Chapter 6 - MARCUS
Marcus Vale had been Ethan’s friend for fifteen years.
College roommate.
Best man.
Godfather to Sophie.
He was the person Ethan called when Sophie’s biological mother died after childbirth complications.
Marcus brought coffee.
Handled reporters.
Sat on the nursery floor at three in the morning while Ethan cried.
Then, two years later, Marcus introduced him to Vanessa.
Ethan listened to Daniel’s recording again.
Marcus’s voice was younger.
Still unmistakable.
“You’re making this harder than it needs to be.”
Daniel answered.
“She’s stealing from the trust.”
Then Vanessa.
“Daniel, stop.”
A crash.
Recording ended.
Ethan stared at Ava.
“Why didn’t police have this?”
“My dad hid it.”
“Where?”
“In my stuffed rabbit.”
Ava looked embarrassed.
“I found it when I was sixteen.”
“Why wait?”
“Because the first cop my dad talked to took money.”
That answer shut Ethan up.
Quinn began checking Marcus.
His companies had invested with Daniel.
After Daniel’s death, assets moved.
Quietly.
Then Marcus invested in Ethan’s developments.
Money had been washing itself clean through respectable buildings.
Including Ethan’s.
He felt physically dirty.
He called Marcus.
Quinn told him not to.
He did anyway.
Marcus answered on the second ring.
“Hey, brother.”
Ethan nearly threw the phone.
Instead.
“Where are you?”
“Office.”
“Stay there.”
A pause.
“Everything okay?”
“No.”
Marcus went silent.
Then.
“Vanessa?”
Ethan’s grip tightened.
“How did you know?”
Another pause.
Too long.
Marcus hung up.
Federal financial investigators were contacted.
By the time police reached Marcus’s office, he was gone.
His computer was wiped.
One desk drawer remained open.
Inside was a photograph.
Ethan and Vanessa’s wedding.
Sophie was two.
Marcus stood behind them smiling.
On the back, someone had written.
PHASE TWO.
Ethan stared at it.
“What was phase one?”
Quinn said.
“Daniel.”
Ethan looked at her.
“And phase two was me?”
Before she could answer, her radio crackled.
An officer at the hospital.
Sophie’s room.
Security breach.
Ethan ran.
He reached the pediatric floor and found the door open.
Rosa was unconscious in a chair.
A nurse was shouting for security.
The bed was empty.
On Sophie’s pillow sat the little red whistle.
And beneath it, a note.
May you like
YOU SHOULD HAVE PICKED YOUR WIFE.
