Chương 9
It was the first contract in years that I signed without changing a word.
Celia came as far as the viewing window.
Inside, Priya showed me how to place my hand flat against the baby’s back without stroking. Premature infants could find repeated touch overstimulating, she explained.
My daughter’s body rose beneath my palm.
“What does her mother call her?” I asked.
“She hasn’t completed the name form.”
“She must have had a name.”
Priya checked the chart.
“There is a note from prenatal records. ‘Isabel, if female.’”
Isabel.
Elena’s mother had been named Isabelle, with an extra l and e. Elena had disliked the spelling because teachers always stumbled over it.
I stood with my palm against the baby’s back until my shoulder cramped.
“Hello, Isabel,” I said.
Her breathing continued, unaffected by introductions.
When I came out, Claire was waiting.
“You had no right to name her.”
“I didn’t. Elena did.”
Claire’s anger faltered.
“How did you know?”
“It was in the chart.”
She sat on the bench.
I remained standing because sitting beside her felt too intimate.
“Isabel was always the name,” Claire said. “Elena bought a wooden letter I months ago, then threw it away because she thought keeping it was tempting fate.”
“Where was she living?”
“A rental house outside Middleton.”
“Alone?”
“Mostly.”
“Who paid for her medical care?”
“She did.”
“She came in under another name.”
“After the records inquiry. Her cardiologist helped transfer her under restricted status. Reed was her mother’s maiden name.”
“Why didn’t she go to the police?”
“She did.”
That surprised me.
“What happened?”
“She showed them the texts. They traced back to your number. Your lawyers contacted her the next day.”
“My lawyers?”
“A man named Daniel Voss said he represented you and warned her that making false accusations would violate the confidentiality clause in the divorce agreement.”
“I don’t know Daniel Voss.”
“Victor did.”
Evelyn, standing several feet away, looked up from her phone.
“Do you have documents?”
Claire reached into her bag and took out a thick envelope.
“I have copies. The originals are in a safe-deposit box.”
Evelyn accepted the envelope with both hands.
“Thank you for not giving these to Mr. Vale.”
“I considered setting them on fire in front of him.”
“That would have been emotionally satisfying and legally unhelpful.”
Claire looked almost disappointed.
I sat opposite her.
“Why did Elena leave the hospital in Wisconsin?”
“Because she saw the man who followed her.”
“Who?”
“She didn’t know his name. Large, shaved head, scar near his ear. He was in the lobby asking which floor she was on.”
Jonas stepped closer.
“Did she photograph him?”
“No. She hid in a restroom until her nurse found her.”
Jonas showed her an image on his phone.
Claire’s face drained.
“That’s him.”
The man in the photograph was Caleb Rusk, former Chicago police, later head of field operations for North Lake Risk Management.
I had hired him seven years earlier after Victor recommended him.
“What was the photo from?” I asked.
Jonas locked the phone.
“A company retreat.”
“Where is Rusk now?”
“His listed address is empty. His passport was used to enter Canada three weeks ago.”
Evelyn heard us.
“No one searches for him except law enforcement.”
“He may be a threat.”
“Then you provide his information to the authorities.”
“I can find him faster.”
“And destroy the case faster.”
Claire looked from Evelyn to me.
“You’re actually listening to her.”
“I am experimenting.”
“Try it longer.”
At nine that morning, the hospital placed Elena under an alias and restricted her directory status. Chicago police assigned an officer to the floor. Jonas’s men were permitted in public areas only, unarmed.
Victor called me at 9:18.
His name appeared on the replacement phone Celia had brought from my house.
Everyone in the family room looked at the screen.
Evelyn raised one finger.
“Speaker. Say as little as possible.”
I answered.
“Victor.”
“I heard Elena is at Northwestern.”
I looked at Jonas.
He shook his head. No one authorized had contacted Victor.
“How did you hear?”
“Madison called me.”
“Did she?”
“She was upset.”
“What did she say?”
“That Elena appeared pregnant and you lost your mind.”
“That sounds incomplete.”
Victor sighed.
He had always sighed before telling me I was behaving like our father.
“Adrian, whatever is happening, do not make commitments until paternity is established. You are vulnerable, the press will be interested, and Elena has never been above using emotion to—”
“Stop.”
The word came out softly.
He stopped.
Through the wall, an infant began crying in another room.
I asked, “Do you know Caleb Rusk?”
A pause.
“Former contractor.”
“When did you last speak with him?”
“I don’t remember.”
“That is unusual for you.”
“So is being interrogated by my brother before breakfast.”
“Did you know Elena was pregnant?”
“No.”
Another pause.
Too clean.
Victor continued. “Why are you asking about Rusk?”
“I saw his name in an old file.”
“What file?”
Evelyn wrote on her legal pad: HE IS FISHING.
I said, “Come to the hospital.”
“No.”
Victor rarely refused directly. He redirected, delayed, or made agreement impossible through logistics. A plain no meant fear.
“Why not?”
“Because this is a family matter, and I am not going to participate in a spectacle while you are emotional.”
“Elena may die.”
“I’m sorry.”
He said it in the same tone one used for a failed shipment.
“Are you?”
“Of course.”
I heard a faint clicking in the background.
A turn signal.
He was in a car.
“Where are you?”
“Home.”
Evelyn circled something on her pad.
I asked, “Why can I hear your car?”
Silence.
Then Victor laughed.
“You always did become clever at the least useful moment.”
The call ended.
Jonas was already moving.
Evelyn stood.
“No pursuit.”
“He lied about his location,” I said.
May you like
“That is not a license for a chase through Chicago.”
Jonas called the driver assigned to Victor. The driver had been dismissed for the day at six that morning. Victor had left his house in a private vehicle.
