Chapter 4 - The Woman at the Gate
"Nobody opens that door."
Andrew's voice changed so quickly that Ivy froze.
The softness disappeared.
Every person in the room moved.
Lights dimmed.
Curtains closed.
Marco drew Ivy away from the windows while Andrew stared at the security feed.
Ivy's mother stood outside the iron gate thirty feet from the house.
She wore the same clothes from the photograph except the yellow scarf was gone.
Her hair was wet and tangled.
One cheek looked swollen.
But she was alive.
That should have been good news.
The red dot resting against her back made it something else.
"Where's the shooter?" Andrew asked.
"Searching rooftops," Marco said.
"No movement."
"Thermal?"
"Coming up."
Ivy twisted away.
"That's my mommy!"
"I know."
"Let her in!"
Andrew knelt in front of her.
"I will."
"Then open it!"
"I can't yet."
"Why?"
He hated the answer.
"Someone may be watching her."
Ivy's face changed.
Not confusion.
Understanding.
Too much understanding.
"Will they hurt her?"
"Not if I can prevent it."
The intercom buzzed.
Everyone looked toward the monitor.
Ivy's mother pressed the gate button again.
"Please."
Her voice came through the speaker.
"Andrew Mercer. I know you're inside."
Andrew approached the console but didn't open the gate.
"Who brought you here?"
Silence.
"Ms. Callahan, look straight ahead."
She did.
"If someone is listening, blink twice."
She blinked once.
Then again.
Andrew looked at Marco.
"Definitely controlled."
He activated the speaker.
"Are they close?"
Her lips barely moved.
"I don't know."
"Did they tell you what to say?"
"Yes."
"What?"
She swallowed.
"Give them Ivy."
Ivy whimpered.
Andrew's expression hardened.
"Not happening."
"They said if I don't bring her back—"
Her voice broke.
"—they'll kill Daniel."
Andrew felt the floor drop beneath him.
"He's alive?"
She nodded.
"I saw him this morning."
For nine years Andrew had imagined that sentence.
Never like this.
"What condition?"
"Weak."
"Conscious?"
"Sometimes."
"Can he walk?"
"I don't know."
"Where is he?"
"Ashwood."
Andrew glanced at Marco.
Exactly where they expected.
Which meant the church clue was either separate—or the real answer.
"Who is holding him?"
She hesitated.
"I don't know his real name."
"What does he call himself?"
"Mr. Vale."
A new name.
Andrew memorized it.
"What does he want with you?"
The woman looked down.
"The marriage."
"To him?"
"No."
"Then who?"
Her face tightened with disgust.
"His son."
Andrew had expected blackmail.
Not that.
"Why?"
"I don't know."
"That's not true."
Her eyes lifted.
She had the look of someone deciding whether one more truth would destroy everything.
Finally:
"Because I saw Daniel awake."
Andrew waited.
"After Daniel told me his name, I searched his records. They were fake. Different patient name. Different date of birth."
"What name?"
"David Merrill."
Andrew's jaw tightened.
"I copied the file."
"Where?"
"I hid it."
"Where?"
"I can't say."
"Because they're listening?"
She nodded almost imperceptibly.
"Then don't."
Andrew looked at Marco.
"Find the shooter."
A guard spoke from across the room.
"Thermal has one heat source on a roof east of us."
"Distance?"
"Two hundred yards."
"Visual?"
"Working."
The laser dot disappeared.
That worried Andrew more.
"Mommy!"
Ivy shouted before anyone could stop her.
Her mother looked toward the house.
"Ivy?"
Ivy ran to the intercom.
"I'm here!"
Her mother's face crumpled.
"Oh, baby."
"I'm okay."
"I told you to hide."
"I did."
"You weren't supposed to leave."
"I needed help."
Her mother's eyes closed.
"I'm sorry."
"Don't cry, Mommy."
Andrew looked away.
He had seen men beg for their lives without feeling anything.
This was harder.
Her mother touched the gate.
"Listen to me, Ivy."
"No."
"I need you to listen."
"No! Mr. Mercer is going to save you."
Andrew felt every eye in the room turn toward him.
Ivy continued.
"I paid him."
Her mother stared through the rain.
"What?"
"Five dollars."
For one impossible moment, Ivy's mother almost laughed.
Then she cried harder.
Andrew activated the speaker.
"Ms. Callahan."
She looked up.
"You came here because they told you to."
"Yes."
"How did you escape?"
"I didn't."
The room went still.
"They let you go."
"Yes."
"Why?"
"So I'd bring Ivy."
"Which means they expect us to make a decision."
She nodded.
"Did they give you a deadline?"
"Midnight."
Andrew checked the clock.
10:17.
Less than two hours.
"Did they say where?"
"St. Gabriel's Church."
Marco swore softly.
Andrew's eyes narrowed.
The church.
Again.
"Why there?"
"I don't know."
"Did they mention Father Reeves?"
Her expression changed.
Andrew had his answer.
"You know him."
"I've seen him."
"Where?"
"At Ashwood."
"With Daniel?"
"Yes."
"When?"
"Three days ago."
Andrew felt old memories rearranging themselves.
Father Reeves.
Ashwood.
Daniel.
The church basement.
Nine years.
"What was Reeves doing?"
"Talking to Mr. Vale."
"About?"
"I couldn't hear everything."
"Anything."
She looked toward the street nervously.
"They argued."
"About Daniel?"
"Yes."
"What did Reeves say?"
She took a breath.
"He said keeping Daniel alive had become too dangerous."
Andrew's blood chilled.
"And Vale?"
"He said Daniel was insurance."
"Against me?"
"I think against someone else."
"Who?"
Before she could answer, Marco shouted:
"DOWN!"
The security monitor flashed.
Ivy's mother dropped instinctively.
A shot cracked through the night.
Not at her.
The camera above the gate exploded.
The feed went black.
Andrew was already moving.
"Open inner security."
Marco stared.
"Andrew—"
"Now."
The gate buzzed.
Two armored vehicles moved from the side driveway, forming a barrier between the house and the eastern rooftops.
Andrew ran outside.
Rain hit him immediately.
Ivy's mother was crawling through the gate.
Andrew grabbed her arm and pulled her behind the stone wall.
"Can you run?"
"Yes."
"Then run."
They crossed the courtyard under cover.
Another shot struck stone.
Inside, Ivy launched herself toward her mother.
Nobody stopped her.
Her mother fell to her knees and caught her.
For several seconds, the dangerous house became quiet.
Only Ivy's sobbing could be heard.
"I'm sorry," her mother whispered over and over. "I'm so sorry."
Ivy clung to her.
"You came back."
"I tried."
"You came back."
Andrew stood near the doorway, rain dripping from his coat.
Marco approached.
"Shooter's gone."
"Of course."
"Shell casing?"
"Nothing yet."
Andrew looked at Ivy's mother.
"Medical."
She shook her head.
"I'm fine."
"That's not a question."
A doctor from Andrew's security team came forward.
Her mother reluctantly allowed herself to be examined while Ivy refused to release her hand.
Andrew waited until the doctor confirmed there were no serious injuries.
Then he asked:
"What's your name?"
"Claire."
Finally.
Claire Callahan.
"Claire, I need the whole story."
She looked at Ivy.
"Not in front of her."
Andrew agreed immediately.
Ivy did not.
"I'm staying."
"No," Claire said.
"Mom—"
"No."
There was authority in her voice now.
The voice of a mother returning to herself.
Andrew almost admired it.
Marco took Ivy toward the kitchen with the promise of more cereal.
When they were gone, Claire began.
Two months earlier, she'd noticed irregular medication records for David Merrill in Room 417.
The patient had been at Ashwood for nearly nine years.
No visitors.
No family.
No proper insurance history.
Yet every bill was paid through a private foundation.
One night, Claire reduced his sedative.
The man woke.
Barely.
He grabbed her wrist.
Said his name was Daniel Mercer.
Said he had a brother named Andrew.
Said people were slowly poisoning him.
Claire initially thought he was confused.
Then Daniel mentioned things.
Brooklyn.
A church.
His brother's scar beneath his left shoulder from falling through a greenhouse roof when they were teenagers.
Andrew subconsciously touched the exact spot.
Claire noticed.
"That's when I believed him."
"What did you do?"
"I copied his chart."
"And?"
"I called a friend."
"Who?"
"Another nurse. Elena Ruiz."
"Where is she?"
"I don't know."
"When did you last speak?"
"Six days ago."
The night Claire was taken.
"What happened?"
"Three men came to my apartment building. They said they knew where Ivy went to school."
Andrew's jaw tightened.
"They told me if I cooperated, Ivy would be safe."
"The marriage?"
Claire looked sick.
"Gideon Vale's son, Ethan."
"Why you?"
"Because he's obsessed."
Andrew frowned.
Claire continued.
"Ethan came to Ashwood several times. I rejected him. After I found Daniel, he used it. He told his father he could keep me controlled."
"By forcing you to marry him?"
"He said once I became family, I'd stop being a problem."
"That's insane."
"Yes."
Andrew believed her.
Criminal plans weren't always smart.
Sometimes they were simply built around people accustomed to nobody saying no.
"Where is Daniel now?"
"Still Room 417 unless they moved him."
"And Elena?"
"I think she helped leave the messages."
Andrew touched the folded five-dollar bill.
"The red writing?"
Claire's eyes widened.
"You found it?"
"Did you write it?"
"No."
"Then Elena?"
"Probably."
"The church basement?"
Claire shook her head.
"I don't know anything about it."
Andrew moved to the map.
"Tell me about Vale."
"Gideon Vale runs the foundation paying Daniel's bills."
"Name?"
"Harbor Light Foundation."
Marco looked up sharply.
Andrew noticed.
"You know it."
Marco turned a laptop toward them.
Harbor Light Foundation.
Board members.
Donors.
One photograph showed Gideon Vale shaking hands at a charity gala.
Beside him stood Father Michael Reeves.
And beside Reeves stood another man.
Andrew's late father.
The photo was dated eleven years earlier.
Two years before Daniel disappeared.
Claire whispered:
"They all knew each other."
Andrew stared at his father's face.
His entire childhood suddenly felt like a room in which someone had turned off the lights.
His father had known Vale.
Reeves had known Vale.
Daniel had discovered something in the church basement.
Then Daniel vanished.
Claire looked at Andrew.
"There's something else."
"What?"
"When Daniel woke yesterday, he said a sentence over and over."
Andrew waited.
Claire's voice lowered.
"He said, 'Andrew can't know what Dad did.'"
For the first time that night, Andrew wished his brother had stayed dead in his memory.
Because whatever Daniel had survived might destroy the only good thing Andrew still believed about the man who raised them.
And downstairs, the captured messenger had finally started screaming for Marco.
Not because he wanted freedom.
Because he had just received a message on his confiscated phone.
Three words.
May you like
THE WEDDING STARTS EARLY.
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