Chapter 4 - The Man in Pine Hollow
Detective Reyes didn't want me going to Colorado.
I went anyway.
My orthopedic surgeon used several words I won't repeat.
My physical therapist used even more.
But forty-eight hours later, I was on a flight with Reyes and another detective, my wheelchair folded into cargo beneath us.
Pine Hollow was a small mountain town where secrets probably had more residents than people.
The hardware store from Mom's photograph stood on Main Street.
A bell rang when Reyes opened the door.
An elderly clerk looked up.
Then looked at me.
His face changed.
“You're Thomas's girl.”
My heart stopped.
“You know me?”
“Never met you.”
“Then how—”
“You've got his eyes.”
He pointed toward the rear door.
“He lives six miles north. Old cabin by Miller Creek.”
Thomas Bennett opened the cabin door before we knocked.
For twenty-six years I'd imagined this moment.
Sometimes I slapped him.
Sometimes I demanded explanations.
Sometimes I walked away.
I had never imagined arriving in a wheelchair.
He stared at me.
Then at the braces.
Then at Reyes.
Finally, he whispered, “Claire?”
I hated how much one word hurt.
“You knew I existed.”
His eyes filled.
“Yes.”
“You knew where I was.”
“Yes.”
“And you stayed here?”
His face crumpled.
“I thought it was the only way to keep you alive.”
I almost turned around.
Then he said my mother's name.
“Where's Elena?”
I looked at him.
He didn't know.
Reyes lowered his eyes.
I understood then.
Mom had found him.
But she hadn't reached him.
“She died.”
Thomas gripped the doorframe.
“No.”
“Someone cut our brakes.”
His knees nearly gave way.
“No.”
“Vivian has been arrested.”
He closed his eyes.
And whispered, “She finally did it.”
Inside the cabin, Thomas told us everything.
Twenty-six years earlier, he'd discovered Vivian embezzling from the business she shared with Mom.
He planned to report her.
Before he could, Vivian confronted him.
She wasn't alone.
A man named Gordon Pike—Eddie's father—was with her.
They forced Thomas into a vehicle.
He escaped hours later after Gordon stopped at a remote service station.
Thomas called Mom.
Vivian intercepted the message.
Then she threatened him.
If he returned, Claire would disappear.
Thomas didn't believe her.
Until a photograph arrived.
Baby me asleep in my crib.
Taken through the bedroom window.
Thomas ran.
He changed names.
Moved repeatedly.
Years later, he tried contacting Mom.
Every letter was returned.
He believed she wanted nothing to do with him.
Mom never received them.
“Vivian controlled the business mail back then,” I whispered.
Thomas nodded.
Then he opened a metal box.
Inside were twenty-six birthday cards.
One for every year of my life.
Never sent.
I picked up the first.
For Claire, on her first birthday.
My vision blurred.
He had remembered every birthday.
Every single one.
But there was something else in the box.
A cassette tape.
Thomas placed it on the table.
“Gordon Pike gave me this before he died.”
“What's on it?”
“Vivian.”
Reyes straightened.
Thomas pressed play.
Static.
Then Vivian's younger voice.
“If Thomas comes back, the baby goes first.”
My skin went cold.
Another voice answered.
“You wouldn't.”
Vivian laughed.
“Try me.”
The tape continued.
Money.
Threats.
The disappearance.
Everything.
Then came something none of us expected.
Gordon asked:
“What about Elena?”
Vivian replied:
“My sister always forgives me.”
The recording ended.
Thomas stared at the machine.
“She stopped forgiving her.”
I thought about Mom's final months.
The changed insurance beneficiary.
The investigation.
The hidden notebook.
Mom had finally decided to expose Vivian.
And Vivian had responded by trying to kill us.
Reyes stood.
“This changes everything.”
But before we could leave, his phone rang.
He answered.
His expression darkened.
“What happened?”
Silence.
Then:
“When?”
He looked at me.
Vivian Mercer had been transported to court that morning.
The vehicle never arrived.
Someone had rammed the transport van.
One officer was injured.
Vivian was gone.
And police had found a message inside the abandoned vehicle.
Three words.
Written for me.
May you like
BRING ME THOMAS.
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