Chapter 8 - The Contract Hidden in the Wall
Arthur Bell's disappearance turned private history into a public emergency.
Police were contacted.
His family insisted he would never voluntarily leave without medication or his wallet.
Vincent's security team began reviewing cameras.
Elena's first instinct was guilt.
“If we hadn't opened the box—”
Vincent cut her off.
“No.”
“He came because of us.”
“He came because he was afraid.”
“Exactly.”
“That doesn't make his choices yours.”
Elena looked at him.
“You say things like someone who learned them the difficult way.”
“I did.”
They returned to the bakery the next afternoon.
This time, Vincent brought two security men.
Elena hated the attention.
She hated more that she understood why it was necessary.
While examining Margaret's box again, Elena found a second layer beneath the papers.
A thin wooden base lifted out.
Below it sat another folded document.
She unfolded it.
A partnership agreement.
Dated 1997.
Carter's Bread & Pie Community Trust.
Margaret Carter.
Arthur Bell.
Lucia Hale.
Elena read slowly.
The bakery had been intended to become a nonprofit refuge and employment program for women leaving dangerous homes.
Lucia had helped design it before her death.
Margaret had apparently continued alone afterward.
Vincent looked over Elena's shoulder.
“My mother wanted this?”
“Yes.”
Elena kept reading.
A final clause stated that if the business ceased operation, any surviving descendants of Margaret or Lucia could revive the project jointly.
Elena looked at Vincent.
“So technically…”
He read.
“Technically our families are still business partners.”
She laughed despite everything.
“Your mother and my grandmother managed to arrange this thirty years before we met.”
“Margaret would probably find that funny.”
“You knew her better than I did in some ways.”
“No.”
Vincent shook his head.
“I knew one version of her.”
Elena considered that.
Perhaps everyone only knew versions.
A mother.
A grandmother.
A boss.
A rescuer.
A baker.
A woman who had kept more secrets than anyone imagined.
The front door opened.
One of Vincent's guards entered.
“We found Arthur.”
Elena stood instantly.
“Where?”
“Hospital.”
“What happened?”
“He says he fell.”
Vincent's eyes narrowed.
“He says?”
“He won't speak to police.”
They reached the hospital thirty minutes later.
Arthur had a bruised cheek and a sprained wrist but was otherwise fine.
He looked ashamed when Elena entered.
“I'm sorry.”
She didn't sit.
“For disappearing?”
“For lying.”
Vincent remained near the door.
Arthur looked at him.
“Lucia was right. I knew.”
“About my father?”
“Yes.”
“You knew he threatened her?”
“Yes.”
“Did he cause the crash?”
Arthur's eyes filled.
“I don't know.”
Vincent's jaw tightened.
“I need more than that.”
“I know Thomas ordered her followed. I know he wanted the evidence back. I know he was furious the night she died.”
“But you don't know whether he ordered the crash.”
“No.”
“Why lie?”
Arthur looked toward Elena.
“Because Thomas Hale is still alive.”
Elena froze.
Vincent's expression didn't change.
She turned toward him.
“You told me your father—”
“I told you nothing about where he was.”
“Is he in Chicago?”
“No.”
“Where?”
Vincent's voice was cold.
“Florida.”
Arthur shook his head.
“Not anymore.”
Vincent looked at him.
Arthur continued.
“He returned three weeks ago.”
“Why?”
“For the building.”
Elena's stomach tightened.
“Why does he care about this building after thirty years?”
“Because he believes something is still hidden here.”
“The evidence?”
“More than evidence.”
Arthur looked at Vincent.
“Money.”
Vincent's expression turned disgusted.
“What money?”
“Lucia had access to one of Thomas's accounts. She transferred a large amount before she planned to leave.”
“How large?”
Arthur hesitated.
“About two million dollars.”
Elena stared.
“In 1999?”
“Yes.”
“That would be…”
“A great deal more today,” Michael Reyes said from the doorway.
Everyone turned.
Arthur nodded.
“Thomas never found it.”
Vincent's tone sharpened.
“You think it's here?”
“He does.”
Elena looked around the hospital room as though the bakery might somehow answer.
“Grandma would've never kept stolen money.”
Arthur shook his head.
“It wasn't for herself.”
“What was it for?”
“The women they were helping.”
Elena understood.
Lucia had taken money from the man controlling her and intended to use it to help other women escape similar situations.
Vincent sat down slowly.
“My father has spent twenty-seven years looking for it?”
“Yes.”
“And he thinks Elena reopening the bakery will uncover it.”
“Yes.”
Elena's phone buzzed.
Unknown number.
She opened the message.
A photograph appeared.
Rosie's Diner.
Taken from across the street that morning.
Below it:
SIGN NOTHING. WALK AWAY.
Elena's blood went cold.
Vincent saw her expression.
“What?”
She showed him.
His entire demeanor changed.
He stood.
“We're done.”
“What does that mean?”
“You're leaving Chicago for a few days.”
“No.”
“Elena.”
“No.”
“This is not about independence.”
“It is when you're telling me what I am doing.”
“Someone is watching you.”
“So we deal with that.”
“My way.”
“No.”
Vincent stared at her.
She stared back.
Arthur actually looked between them like a spectator at a tennis match.
Finally Elena said:
“My grandmother protected your mother when everyone else was afraid.”
Vincent's eyes narrowed.
“Don't.”
“I'm not going to run from her building because your father sent a text.”
Vincent's voice dropped.
“You don't know what he's capable of.”
“Then tell me.”
Silence.
Elena stepped closer.
“Stop protecting me with missing information.”
Vincent closed his eyes briefly.
When he opened them, something had changed.
“Fine.”
He looked at Michael.
“Tell her everything.”
Michael hesitated.
Vincent nodded.
“Everything.”
May you like
And Elena was about to learn exactly why half of Chicago still lowered its voice when saying the name Hale.
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