Chương 9
Marcus did not argue.
Cho watched him.
“What do you want, Mr. Blackwell?”
“To find my wife.”
“And after that?”
“To keep my daughters alive.”
“And after that?”
Marcus felt irritation rise.
Cho waited.
Nobody in the room rescued him from the question.
“I don’t know.”
“That may be the first useful answer.”
Cho recommended immediate contact with a small federal team because local records might be compromised. He also recommended notifying Chicago police through a controlled channel so Grace’s missing-person status could be entered without broadcasting Emma’s location.
The first interview began at ten thirty that night.
Two federal agents arrived separately. Special Agent Lena Ortiz spoke softly, asked precise questions, and never used Grace’s aliases until Karen introduced them. Her partner, Evan Price, looked around the townhouse as if mentally pricing everything.
Marcus surrendered Grace’s letter for imaging but insisted Emma retain the teddy bear. Evelyn documented the exchange.
The agents took the tracker, photographed Karen’s forged documents, and requested permission to examine the phones she carried. She refused until Cho explained the limits they could negotiate.
At midnight, Lily came downstairs in pajamas.
She stood in the hallway while strangers asked Karen where Grace had slept in Indianapolis four years earlier.
Marcus rose.
“You should be in bed.”
“I can’t sleep.”
“I’ll come upstairs.”
“I don’t want you.”
The words were quiet.
He stopped.
Lily looked toward the agents, then at his bruised knuckles.
“I want Aunt Karen.”
Karen’s face softened.
Marcus nodded.
“Go.”
Karen took Lily upstairs.
Emma followed, carrying the bear by one arm.
Agent Ortiz watched them leave.
“How often does your daughter see violence?”
Evelyn began to object.
Marcus answered.
“More than she should.”
The agent’s pen moved.
By dawn, the townhouse smelled of cold coffee, wet coats, and the reheated pasta Jonah had made because no one had eaten. Agent Price left to coordinate the apartment search. Ortiz remained.
A preliminary check of the number that called Grace showed it had been activated two days before the meeting and used near a cluster of towers west of downtown. The number was now dead.
Union Station security footage showed Grace entering at 6:58 p.m. wearing a green coat. She crossed the Great Hall, bought coffee with cash, and sat near the Jackson Boulevard entrance.
At 7:21, a man in a baseball cap approached her.
The camera did not capture his face clearly.
Grace stood. They argued. The man handed her something small. Grace put it in her pocket. They walked toward the parking garage.
A camera near the garage showed a dark minivan leaving eleven minutes later. The rear plate was obscured by salt. The front plate was missing.
Karen stared at the still image.
“That’s Dr. Vale.”
Marcus looked at the man in the cap.
“You’re sure?”
“He always stood like that. Left shoulder lower. He broke his collarbone skiing.”
Agent Ortiz enlarged the frame.
“Dr. Adrian Vale?”
“Yes.”
“He has been missing for years.”
Karen shook her head.
“He has been hiding.”
Marcus studied the image. The man’s beard was gray. His face remained shadowed, but the posture matched a photograph Marcus remembered from Lily’s birth announcement.
“Why contact Grace now?” Ortiz asked.
Karen sat back.
“Maybe he found something.”
“Or someone found him,” Marcus said.
At eight in the morning, Victor’s attorney called Evelyn.
He alleged Marcus had assaulted his client, unlawfully detained a child, and threatened Victor’s life. He requested immediate confirmation that Emma and Karen were free to leave.
Evelyn put the call on speaker after obtaining permission.
Marcus listened from across the room.
“We are not confirming the presence or absence of any person,” Evelyn said. “Your client entered private property voluntarily and departed without obstruction.”
“He was struck in the face.”
“My client acknowledges a physical altercation occurred.”
Marcus looked at her.
She muted the phone.
“Do not make me regret the phrasing.”
She resumed.
Victor’s attorney continued.
“Mr. Blackwell has reason to believe a vulnerable child is being manipulated by an unstable adult.”
Karen muttered a curse.
Evelyn’s voice remained calm.
“Your client threatened that child in the presence of witnesses.”
“I dispute that characterization.”
“Then preserve all communications, location data, and security footage from the last seven years.”
The line went quiet.
“On what basis?”
“Anticipated litigation.”
“You are attempting to intimidate—”
“No. Intimidation is usually less well documented.”
She ended the call.
Marcus looked at her.
“That was almost enjoyable.”
“Do not get used to it.”
At nine sixteen, Jonah received a photograph from the team following Victor.
Victor had gone first to a private club on LaSalle Street, then to St. Casimir Medical Pavilion, a rehabilitation facility in Cicero owned through a nonprofit controlled by Leo Santori’s sister.
The name meant nothing to Karen.
It meant something to Marcus.
His father had used the facility thirty years earlier to hide men recovering from injuries that hospitals would report. Marcus believed the arrangement had ended when the founder died.
“Victor stayed seventeen minutes,” Jonah said.
Agent Ortiz was already calling for records.
“We need a warrant before entering private patient areas.”
“By the time you get one, they’ll move her,” Marcus said.
“We do not know she is there.”
“Victor learned Emma was alive, threatened me, and went to a facility connected to our organization.”
“That supports investigation. It does not authorize you to storm a medical building.”
Marcus stood.
Ortiz looked up at him.
“Sit down.”
Nobody spoke to him that way in his house.
Marcus sat.
She returned to the call.
The warrant process took hours.
Those hours altered the house.
Lily and Emma ate cereal at the kitchen counter while two agents worked in the study. Karen borrowed sweatpants and a sweater from Evelyn. Jonah removed his tie and repaired the back gate latch because it had begun knocking in the wind. Marcus took three calls from business associates and answered none of their real questions.
May you like
News of his conflict with Victor spread anyway.
By noon, two company managers had postponed meetings. A restaurant supplier demanded an early payment. Someone leaked a photograph of Marcus striking Victor in the doorway. The image appeared on a neighborhood crime account, then on local television.
