Chapter 4
I hadn't slept in thirty hours.
Every time I closed my eyes, I saw Nia sitting somewhere in the dark.
I imagined her calling for help.
I imagined her wondering whether I had believed the woman wearing her face.
Then I remembered Victor's voice.
"Mr. Carter, I suggest you stop asking questions."
I wanted to break something.
Instead, I sat in a police interview room while Detective Jackson explained what investigators had discovered.
The abandoned house belonged to a company called Whitmore Heritage Holdings.
The name made me sit upright.
"Whitmore?"
She nodded.
"Nia's father's surname."
I stared at the papers.
"Did he own the company?"
"According to the records, he established it years ago."
I frowned.
"Nia told me her father lost everything before he died."
Detective Jackson opened another folder.
"That may be what she was told."
I felt my stomach tighten.
"What do you mean?"
She showed me a property summary.
Whitmore Heritage Holdings controlled several commercial buildings and investment accounts.
The total estimated value was substantial.
I stared at the figures.
Millions.
Not thousands.
Millions.
"That's impossible."
Detective Jackson didn't argue.
"Some of these assets appear to have been placed in a trust."
I looked at her.
"For Nia?"
"She's named as a beneficiary."
My hands began trembling.
Nia had spent years working long shifts as a pediatric nurse.
She lived carefully.
Saved money.
Bought secondhand furniture.
Refused expensive gifts because she didn't want anyone to think she was marrying me for financial security.
I loved that about her.
But now I was learning that she might have inherited more money than either of us had imagined.
"Did she know?"
The detective shook her head.
"We haven't established that."
I looked down at the documents.
"Why would Victor need me?"
Detective Jackson leaned forward.
"That's what we're trying to determine."
She explained that the trust contained conditions related to Nia's inheritance and future ownership rights.
Some documents required verification of her identity.
Others required authorization from trustees.
And certain transactions involved additional safeguards.
But someone had apparently been trying to manipulate those conditions.
I stared at her.
"By replacing Nia at our wedding?"
"It's possible they wanted to create a false record of identity and obtain signatures under misleading circumstances."
I shook my head.
"But how could a woman wearing a disguise legally become Nia?"
"She couldn't simply become Nia by wearing a mask," the detective said. "But fraudulent documents and false representations can create serious problems before they're discovered."
I looked toward the window.
My entire wedding had been a trap.
The flowers.
The music.
The elegant hall.
The smiling guests.
Everything had been arranged around a plan I didn't understand.
And Nia had disappeared because someone wanted control of her inheritance.
Detective Jackson continued.
"We're examining whether Victor Hale and Celeste Whitmore were involved in earlier financial misconduct connected to Samuel Whitmore's estate."
I looked at her.
"Was Samuel murdered?"
She paused.
"There's no evidence supporting that conclusion at this point."
I appreciated her honesty.
But my fear remained.
If someone had lied about Nia's mother being dead, what else had been hidden?
The detective asked whether I could identify anyone who had recently contacted me about investments or family finances.
I thought carefully.
Then I remembered a man named Peter Lawson.
He had approached me at a charity event six months earlier.
He claimed to be a financial adviser.
He said he knew Nia's family.
At the time, I assumed he was simply being friendly.
He asked about my business.
My savings.
Our wedding plans.
Then he offered to introduce me to private investment opportunities.
I declined.
I mentioned him to Detective Jackson.
She immediately wrote down his name.
"Can you describe him?"
I did.
Tall.
Early fifties.
Clean-shaven.
Expensive watches.
A distinctive silver ring.
The detective's expression changed.
She showed me another photograph.
My stomach dropped.
It was Victor.
Not under the name Victor Hale.
Under the name Peter Lawson.
I stared at the image.
"That's him."
Detective Jackson nodded.
"Thank you."
For several seconds, I couldn't speak.
Victor had met me six months earlier.
He had asked questions about my finances.
He knew where I worked.
He knew who I loved.
And I hadn't recognized his interest as dangerous.
I felt sick.
"How long has he been watching us?"
"We're investigating that."
I looked at the detective.
"Please find her."
Her expression softened.
"We're doing everything we can."
That afternoon, Danielle brought Lily to my apartment.
I hadn't wanted her to see me so frightened.
But my niece refused to go home without visiting.
She ran into my arms the moment I opened the door.
"Uncle Marcus!"
I lifted her.
She hugged me tightly.
Then she looked around.
"Is Aunt Nia here?"
I shook my head.
"Not yet."
Her face fell.
I carried her to the sofa.
Danielle sat beside us.
For a while, we watched a children's movie.
I couldn't concentrate.
But Lily seemed calmer.
Then she reached into her small pink backpack.
"I made something."
She handed me a drawing.
It showed three people standing beneath a large rainbow.
One was tall and wore a gray suit.
One wore a white dress.
The smallest wore pink.
I stared at it.
"Is that us?"
She nodded.
"At the wedding."
My throat tightened.
She pointed toward Nia.
"I gave her a big smile."
I nodded.
"It's beautiful."
Lily looked at me seriously.
"Do you think she's scared?"
I swallowed.
"Probably."
She looked down.
"Then we need to tell her she's brave."
I pulled her into my arms.
"You're right."
Danielle wiped her eyes.
Then my phone rang.
Detective Jackson.
I answered immediately.
"Hello?"
"Marcus, we found something important."
My heart raced.
"What?"
"The memory card from the bridal suite contained a video."
I stood.
"Of Nia?"
"Yes."
My knees weakened.
"Is she okay?"
"The recording was made before she disappeared."
I closed my eyes.
"What does it show?"
The detective hesitated.
"She appears to be speaking directly to you."
I gripped the phone.
"Can I see it?"
"We'd like you to come in."
I looked at Danielle.
She understood immediately.
"I'll take care of Lily."
I kissed my niece's forehead and grabbed my keys.
At the police station, Detective Jackson led me into a small room.
A laptop sat on the table.
She pressed PLAY.
Nia appeared on the screen.
Her hair was loose.
She wore a white robe.
Her eyes were filled with tears.
"Marcus," she whispered, "if you're watching this, I need you to know I love you."
My chest tightened.
She wiped her cheeks.
"I found out why my mother disappeared."
I leaned closer.
Nia took a shaky breath.
"She didn't abandon me because she stopped loving me."
I stared at the screen.
Then Nia said something that changed everything.
"She abandoned me because she and Victor tried to steal my father's company."
I covered my mouth.
The video continued.
"And Marcus, there's something else."
Nia looked directly into the camera.
"Victor isn't the only person involved."
My heart pounded.
She swallowed.
"Someone close to you has been helping him."
The screen went black.
I stared at my reflection.
Then I whispered, "Who?"
Detective Jackson looked at me.
"We're still trying to identify that person."
My phone vibrated.
A message from an unknown number.
It contained a photograph of Nia.
She was sitting on a chair in a dim room.
Her face was bruised slightly near one cheek, but her eyes were open.
Alive.
May you like
Beneath the photograph were eight words.
"YOUR BROTHER KNOWS WHERE SHE IS. ASK HIM."
