Chapter 7 - Zoey DisappearsThe hospital placed Nathan in surgery.
The doctors refused to promise he would survive.
Captain Ortega arrested no one.
Not yet.
Nathan’s accusation against Samuel Price was hearsay from a critically injured man. The altered dental records were three years old. The original medical examiner had retired to Portugal, and the files connected to Daniel’s identification had been transferred twice after a hospital merger.
Everything that should have been simple had been made deliberately complicated.
That was Gregory’s gift.
He never destroyed the truth.
He buried it beneath enough paperwork that honest people became tired before reaching it.
At four forty in the afternoon, Rachel’s emergency motion was denied.
My voting rights remained frozen.
Gregory announced a press conference for six.
The official statement said he would address “financial irregularities and recent instability in company leadership.”
He was going public.
He planned to turn me into a grieving widow who had stolen from her own company and attacked an innocent CEO because his wife had offended her.
Marcus drove us away from the hospital.
Diane remained with police.
I called my mother.
No answer.
I called Marcus’s team.
A woman answered on the second ring.
“Reed Protection.”
“This is Eleanor Monroe. Put my daughter on.”
A pause.
Then another voice came onto the line.
“Ms. Monroe, we have a situation.”
Every part of me stopped.
“What situation?”
“Your mother became ill twenty minutes ago. Possible reaction to something she drank. An ambulance was called.”
“And Zoey?”
“She was with one of our agents.”
“Was?”
“The agent was struck from behind in the stairwell.”
My voice disappeared.
Marcus turned off the highway so quickly that the tires slid.
“Where is she?” I asked.
“We are searching the building.”
“Where is my daughter?”
“We do not currently know.”
The world narrowed into a single black point.
Rachel took the phone from my hand and demanded details.
I heard only fragments.
Camera outage.
Service elevator.
Woman wearing medical scrubs.
Silver sedan.
I pressed both hands against my mouth.
Marcus accelerated.
“No,” I said.
Neither of them responded.
“No. This is not happening.”
Rachel ended the call.
“Police have an alert out.”
I looked at her.
“An alert?”
“They have the vehicle description.”
“She is four.”
“I know.”
“She does not understand what is happening.”
“We will find her.”
I wanted to scream at Rachel for saying it like a promise.
I wanted to tear apart the car with my hands.
Instead, I called Gregory.
He answered immediately.
“I expected you sooner.”
“Where is Zoey?”
Silence.
Then a soft exhale.
“I have no idea.”
“You threatened her.”
“I warned you that your behavior had consequences.”
“You took my daughter.”
“Careful, Eleanor. Calls can be recorded.”
“I will kill you.”
“There she is.”
His voice became almost gentle.
“The emotionally unstable widow.”
I closed my eyes.
“What do you want?”
“Resign your board position. Transfer voting control of your shares to an independent trustee for twelve months.”
“You mean a trustee you control.”
“I mean someone capable of protecting the company.”
“And Zoey comes home?”
“I told you I do not have her.”
“Then why make the demand?”
“Because perhaps whoever does have her understands the danger you are creating.”
Marcus motioned for me to keep him talking.
“Where should I sign?” I asked.
“I’ll send the documents.”
“I want proof she is alive.”
“I cannot provide proof of something I did not do.”
“Then no deal.”
“Eleanor—”
I ended the call.
A video arrived ten seconds later.
Zoey sat in a dim room holding her stuffed rabbit.
Her pink dress was gone. Someone had put her in gray pajamas.
She was crying silently.
A voice behind the camera said, “Tell Mommy what happens when she refuses to listen.”
Zoey shook her head.
The unseen person moved closer.
She flinched.
“Mommy,” she whispered, “please come get me.”
The video ended.
I made a sound I had never heard from myself before.
Marcus reached for the phone.
I pulled it away.
“Trace it.”
“They will have masked the location.”
“Trace it anyway.”
Rachel enlarged the final frame.
“There.”
In the corner behind Zoey was a strip of blue wallpaper.
Tiny white sailboats.
I knew it.
I had chosen it.
“Daniel’s nursery,” I said.
Rachel stared at me.
“What?”
“Our first house. In Connecticut. We sold it after Zoey was born.”
“Who owns it now?”
I searched the property records.
The house belonged to a limited-liability company.
Pierce Family Residential.
Malcolm and Henry Pierce.
The brothers who had delivered the final votes against me.
Marcus called Ortega and changed direction.
The property sat behind iron gates on six wooded acres outside Greenwich.
Police reached it first.
The front door was unlocked.
Inside, the house looked abandoned.
Dust covered the furniture.
The nursery remained exactly as Daniel and I had decorated it before we learned we were having a girl.
Blue sailboats.
White crib.
A wooden moon above the window.
Zoey’s stuffed rabbit lay on the floor.
She was gone.
On the wall, someone had written three words in red paint.
ASK YOUR HUSBAND.
I touched the rabbit.
It was still warm.
Marcus entered from the hallway.
“No sign of forced entry. Tire tracks lead to the rear service road.”
Ortega stood beside him.
“We found one person in the basement.”
“Zoey?”
He shook his head.
“Henry Pierce.”
Henry sat tied to a pipe beneath the house, bruised and terrified.
The moment he saw me, he began talking.
“I didn’t take her.”
“Your company owns this house.”
“Gregory made us buy it.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know.”
“Wrong answer.”
“I swear.”
I crouched in front of him.
“You received a picture of your sons during the vote.”
His face crumpled.
“He said they would disappear if I voted against him.”
“Who said?”
“Gregory.”
“Where is Zoey?”
“I don’t know.”
I grabbed his shirt.
“Where is my daughter?”
“I heard them upstairs,” he gasped. “A woman and a man. They said they were moving her to the old distribution center.”
“Which one?”
“Queens.”
Marcus was already calling his team.
Henry’s eyes filled with tears.
“There’s something else.”
I released him.
“What?”
“The man said Daniel was waiting.”
The room went silent.
“You heard the name Daniel?”
Henry nodded.
“He said, ‘Take the girl to Daniel before Eleanor ruins everything.’”
My mind rejected the words.
Marcus did not.
“Could be manipulation.”
“Or he is alive,” I whispered.
We drove to Queens with police vehicles ahead of us.
The distribution center had closed eight years earlier. Its windows were boarded, and weeds broke through the loading yard.
A single light burned inside.
Police surrounded the building.
Ortega ordered me to remain in the vehicle.
I lasted twelve seconds.
Inside, the warehouse smelled of rust and rain.
Officers spread through the darkness.
“Zoey!” I shouted.
A child cried somewhere above us.
I ran toward the sound.
Marcus caught up as I climbed a metal staircase.
At the top was an office with glass walls.
Zoey stood inside.
Alone.
The door was locked.
“Mommy!”
I struck the glass with both hands.
“I’m here.”
Marcus broke the lock.
Zoey ran into my arms.
I dropped to my knees and held her so tightly she protested.
“You came,” she sobbed.
“I will always come.”
Behind her, a television screen flickered on.
A man sat in shadow.
His face remained hidden.
But I knew the shape of his shoulders.
I knew the way he held his left hand, thumb rubbing the edge of his wedding ring.
My husband had done it whenever he was afraid.
The man leaned toward the camera.
“Eleanor,” he said.
My heart stopped.
May you like
Daniel’s voice filled the room.
“If you are watching this, Gregory has finally lost control.”
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