Chapter 4 - The Missing Heir
Daniel Cross survived the shooting, but barely.
An ambulance carried him to a hospital under federal protection. Before surgery, he gave investigators a signed statement identifying Martin Shaw as the gunman and confirming that Richard Blackwood had ordered the destruction of Thomas Carter's evidence.
It was a beginning.
Not justice.
Victoria remained in custody, refusing to answer questions. Martin Shaw had disappeared again. And the ledger revealed that the financial fraud was larger than anyone had imagined.
But Evelyn could think about only one sentence.
The truth about Richard Blackwood's first son.
Adrian brought her to his father's estate in Westchester, a sprawling stone mansion surrounded by bare trees and iron gates.
The house was beautiful in the way expensive places often were—immaculate, cold, and strangely lifeless.
"My father kept everything," Adrian explained as they entered his private study. "Letters, photographs, contracts. If there's evidence of a first son, it will be here."
They searched for hours.
In a locked cabinet, Evelyn discovered a collection of photographs taken decades earlier.
One showed Richard Blackwood beside a young woman with dark hair. She wore a simple wedding band and held a baby wrapped in a blue blanket.
On the back was a name.
Margaret Ellis.
Adrian frowned.
"I've never heard of her."
Evelyn studied the baby's face.
There was something familiar about his eyes.
Another photograph showed Margaret standing outside a small house with a little boy beside her.
The child was older now, perhaps five.
Written beneath the photograph were three words.
My son, Jonathan.
Adrian sat down.
"My father had another child."
The discovery changed everything.
They searched the estate's old correspondence and found letters between Richard and Margaret. The relationship had begun before Richard married Adrian's mother. When Margaret became pregnant, Richard promised to support her privately.
Then, according to the letters, he demanded that she leave New York.
He offered money.
She refused.
The final letter was dated twenty-eight years earlier.
You have chosen your empire over your own blood. One day, Jonathan will learn what kind of man you are.
Evelyn looked at Adrian.
"Your father had a son he erased."
Adrian rubbed his face.
"That sounds like him."
They found Margaret's address in an old envelope.
She lived in a modest house in Connecticut.
When they arrived, a woman in her sixties answered the door. Her dark hair had turned silver, but her eyes were sharp.
"Adrian Blackwood," she said. "I wondered when you would come."
"You know who I am?"
"I've known who you are since you were born."
Her gaze moved to Evelyn.
"And you must be Thomas Carter's daughter."
Evelyn's breath caught.
"You knew my father?"
Margaret stepped aside.
"He came to see me two days before he died."
Inside the house, Margaret explained that Thomas had discovered Richard's secret while investigating the company's accounts. Some of the money had been transferred into a trust created for Jonathan, Richard's firstborn son.
Thomas believed the trust was being used to hide stolen funds.
But when he met Margaret, he learned that Jonathan had never received a cent.
"Your father realized someone was using my son's identity to move money," Margaret said. "He promised to find proof."
"Why didn't you go to the police?" Evelyn asked.
"I did. Daniel Cross came to my house and warned me that my son would be killed if I continued asking questions."
Adrian's face darkened.
"Where is Jonathan now?"
Margaret looked toward the window.
"I don't know. He disappeared six years ago after receiving a letter from Richard. He believed his father wanted to meet him."
She went to a drawer and returned with a photograph.
Jonathan stood beside a woman with curly brown hair. He looked almost exactly like Adrian, except for the small scar above his left eyebrow.
Evelyn studied the photograph.
"Who is the woman?"
"Her name is Claire Bennett. She worked as a nurse at a private clinic in Manhattan."
Adrian turned the photograph over.
On the back was a telephone number.
Margaret's voice trembled.
"Claire called me three months ago. She said Jonathan had discovered something about Richard's death. Then the call ended, and I never heard from her again."
"Richard died recently," Adrian said. "He left evidence behind."
Margaret stared at him.
"Then Jonathan may be in danger."
They called the number.
A woman answered on the fourth ring.
"Hello?"
Adrian introduced himself.
There was a long silence.
Then the woman whispered, "If you're really Richard Blackwood's son, tell me what happened to the little boy who wore the blue coat."
Adrian looked at Margaret.
"I don't know."
"Your father sent a man to the clinic when Jonathan was six. The man took his coat and told him his mother had abandoned him. Jonathan spent years believing no one wanted him."
Evelyn felt sick.
"Who was the man?"
The woman answered.
"Martin Shaw."
A crash sounded at the other end of the line.
Claire gasped.
Then the call went dead.
Adrian immediately called Rachel.
"Find Claire Bennett. She's in danger."
They drove toward Manhattan, but the hospital where Claire had worked had already been evacuated after a reported gas leak.
In the parking lot, Evelyn found a small envelope beneath the windshield wiper.
Inside was a photograph of Jonathan.
On the back, someone had written:
Stop looking for the missing heir, or another daughter will lose her father.
Evelyn stared at the words.
Adrian took the photograph from her.
His face was white with rage.
"They're threatening you."
"No," Evelyn said quietly. "They're afraid."
She looked at the photograph again.
"If Jonathan knows what happened to my father, he may be the only person who can prove it."
For the first time since the restaurant, Adrian reached for her hand.
"We'll find him."
Evelyn squeezed his fingers.
"Then we find him together."
Neither noticed the dark car parked across the street.
Inside it, Martin Shaw watched them leave.
He lifted his phone.
"She's found Margaret," he said. "And Blackwood knows about Jonathan."
A voice answered.
"Then it's time to finish what Richard started."
Martin glanced at the photograph on the passenger seat.
It showed a man who looked remarkably like Adrian Blackwood.
May you like
But the name written beneath his face was not Jonathan.
It was Daniel Blackwood.
