Chapter 27 - The Real Bennett
Nobody moved.
Morales raised his weapon.
“Drop it.”
Bennett smiled.
“I expected you to say that.”
“Put the gun down.”
He did.
Then raised his hands.
“I am not here to fight.”
I stared.
“You've been dead.”
He nodded.
“Officially.”
“Why?”
“To disappear.”
“Who shot the man at your office?”
“Blackwell.”
“So he knew you weren't dead.”
“Yes.”
“Then why didn't you tell us?”
“Because I wasn't sure who I could trust.”
I laughed bitterly.
“That's becoming everyone's favorite excuse.”
Bennett looked at me.
“I deserve that.”
He walked toward us.
Evelyn stiffened.
“You lied to Margaret.”
“Yes.”
“You told her Arthur was dead.”
“Yes.”
“You forged Daniel's death.”
“Yes.”
“You worked with Samuel.”
Bennett shook his head.
“I worked against him.”
“Then why?”
“Because someone had to stay close.”
I looked at Daniel.
“And Ethan?”
“I recruited him.”
“To protect me.”
“Yes.”
“And to steal the ledger.”
“No.”
I stared.
Bennett hesitated.
“To protect the ledger.”
The archive went silent.
“The ledger wasn't financial.”
I frowned.
“What was it?”
“Names.”
“Of everyone.”
“Yes.”
“Everyone working for Blackwell.”
“Yes.”
“What about the money?”
“A distraction.”
I stared.
“You mean all of this was never about thirty-six million dollars?”
“No.”
“Then what?”
Bennett looked at Arthur.
“Arthur found something far bigger.”
Arthur stared back.
“Don't.”
Bennett ignored him.
“He found evidence that Blackwell controlled judges, hospital administrators, bank officials, investigators, attorneys.”
My stomach tightened.
“People inside the system.”
“Yes.”
“That's why nobody could stop him.”
“Yes.”
Bennett looked at me.
“And that's why your father disappeared.”
I turned toward Arthur.
“Why did you never tell me?”
“Because I couldn't.”
“Because of me?”
“Yes.”
Bennett took a folder from his coat.
“This is what Samuel has been trying to destroy.”
He handed it to me.
Inside was a photograph.
Arthur.
Bennett.
Evelyn.
And a fourth man.
I stared.
The fourth man was young.
Too young.
But the face was familiar.
I looked at Daniel.
Then at Bennett.
“That is…”
“Yes.”
“The real Daniel.”
Daniel stared at the photograph.
He was standing beside Arthur at age five.
Alive.
Visible.
Protected.
Then I noticed someone holding his hand.
A teenage boy.
Ethan.
My heart hurt.
Ethan had been guarding Daniel for years.
Not me.
Daniel.
Bennett explained.
“Ethan was never assigned to Claire first.”
I felt a knot in my chest.
“He was assigned to Daniel.”
“Why did he marry me?”
“Because Daniel was hidden inside the identity you trusted.”
I stared at him.
“What does that mean?”
Bennett sighed.
“Ethan needed to remain inside your family.”
“Why?”
“Because Samuel knew the Williams family would eventually search for Daniel.”
I looked at the archive.
“So Ethan became Daniel.”
“Yes.”
“And then married me.”
“Yes.”
“For the mission.”
“Yes.”
I felt tears burn my eyes.
“Did he ever love me?”
Bennett was silent.
Then he said:
“Yes.”
I looked at him.
“He was never supposed to.”
“Love doesn't follow orders.”
For the first time that morning, I believed something someone said.
Then the archive alarm sounded.
Red lights flashed.
Bennett's face changed.
“What?”
“Someone entered the outer system.”
“Samuel.”
“No.”
Bennett looked at the monitor.
“Someone else.”
“What do you mean?”
He pointed.
A new user had logged into the archive.
User ID:
DANIEL-W.
I stared.
“The real Daniel?”
Bennett shook his head.
“No.”
“Then who?”
The system displayed a second line.
ACCESS GRANTED BY:
CLAIRE WILLIAMS.
I froze.
“I didn't do that.”
Bennett turned pale.
“Neither did you.”
“Then who?”
A voice came from the speakers.
A woman's voice.
Soft.
Familiar.
My mother gasped.
“No.”
The voice said:
“You've been searching for the wrong person.”
Mom stared at the ceiling.
“Evelyn?”
The woman laughed.
“No.”
Then she said my name.
“Claire.”
My blood turned cold.
“I've been waiting for you.”
I knew the voice.
I had heard it once before.
A voicemail from years ago.
A voice from the night Dad disappeared.
A voice I had always assumed belonged to an insurance investigator.
It wasn't.
Bennett whispered:
“Margaret's mother.”
My grandfather's wife.
My grandmother.
May you like
Dead for twenty years.
Except apparently she wasn't.
