Chapter 12 - The Girl at the Window

Elias didn't deny that his name appeared on the hospital bill.

“I covered the medical costs for everyone in the car,” he said. “Mateo included. I signed a stack of emergency authorizations.”

“You never checked what happened after?” Marisol asked.

“No.”

“One person buried my father. Another person paid the bill. And neither one bothered to look.”

Elias accepted the accusation without defending himself. Somehow that made Marisol angrier.

An hour later, Price traced Chloe to a short-stay motel near Midway Airport. Dominic wanted Owen's loyalty, not the expense of guarding a child forever. A man was stationed outside her room; another waited in a running car.

Owen begged to go with the officers.

“You've already made one terrible choice for your daughter,” Price said. “Don't make another.”

He stayed in the surveillance van, staring at the motel window. Then Chloe appeared at the glass, holding up a drawing of a sun.

“That's her signal,” Owen whispered. “We made it up when she was little. Means she's okay.”

The officers entered quietly. One guard surrendered. The other bolted down the back stairs and fired twice before Price's partner tackled him. Within seconds Chloe was outside, wrapped in a police jacket.

Owen ran to her and dropped to his knees. She threw her arms around his neck.

“Daddy, I did the sun,” she said.

“I saw it, baby. I saw.”

He was still holding her when a rifle cracked from a rooftop across the street. Owen shoved Chloe behind the van. The bullet struck his shoulder. Price returned fire while the driver pulled the child to safety.

At the hospital, Owen woke pale and angry. “I helped them into that house,” he told Elias. “I don't deserve your forgiveness.”

“Good,” Elias said. “I wasn't offering it. Tell Price everything.”

Owen nodded. For the first time, his fear seemed smaller than his shame.

Back at the mansion, Constance watched the news report about the rescue. Then she went upstairs and asked Giata to close the glass-room door.

“I've kept something from you,” she said. “Since the hospital.”

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Giata went still.

Constance touched the piano's curved wooden side. “Lena had a little blue case. I hid it here. And now I think I know why those men came looking.”