Chapter 18 - THE WOMAN WHO KILLED CORMAC
Eleanor did not deny it.
They found her through Naomi.
Or perhaps Eleanor allowed herself to be found.
Belle no longer knew.
She sat in a federal interview room with her hands folded.
Renick stood behind the glass.
Belle sat across from her mother.
“You killed him.”
Eleanor’s expression remained calm.
“Yes.”
Belle stared.
“My father.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“He ordered Patrick to kill you.”
Belle stopped.
“What?”
“Cormac discovered Patrick’s betrayal. Patrick convinced him you were the vulnerability that could destroy succession.”
“That makes no sense.”
“It made sense to a frightened old criminal.”
Belle looked toward the glass.
Renick could hear everything.
“Cormac chose the organization over me.”
Eleanor nodded.
“So you poisoned him.”
“I prevented your murder.”
Belle laughed bitterly.
“Everyone protects me in very dramatic ways.”
Eleanor’s eyes softened.
“I wasn’t a good mother.”
“No.”
“I know.”
“That doesn’t fix it.”
“No.”
Belle leaned forward.
“Why didn’t you take me away?”
“I tried.”
“Where?”
“Canada.”
“I was thirteen. You said it was a vacation.”
“It was supposed to become permanent.”
“What happened?”
“Cormac found us.”
Belle remembered.
A motel.
Her mother crying in the bathroom.
A black car outside.
A man Belle never saw clearly.
Everything rearranged.
“Did David know?”
“Your father who raised you? Yes.”
Belle swallowed.
“He agreed to lie?”
“He agreed to keep you.”
That hurt.
David Ashford had been gentle.
Ordinary.
He died of cancer when Belle was seventeen.
Maybe the only adult who gave her a normal life.
“Did he love me?”
Eleanor’s face cracked.
“More than any of us deserved.”
Belle cried.
Quietly.
When she returned to the observation room, Renick stood alone.
Naomi had taken Eleanor into custody pending a broader investigation.
Renick looked at Belle.
“She killed him to save you.”
Belle shook her head.
“That doesn’t make it okay.”
“No.”
“Do you hate me?”
Renick frowned.
“For what?”
“My existence apparently caused half your family to implode.”
“My family managed that before you arrived.”
Belle almost smiled.
Renick looked through the glass at Eleanor.
“I hated my father for years.”
“Now?”
“Now I know he was worse.”
Belle stood beside him.
Two siblings who had not known they were siblings.
Both raised by lies.
“Brinley likes Micah,” Renick said.
Belle laughed softly.
“Micah likes her.”
“Isla too.”
“Micah met Isla for six hours.”
“He gave her his last granola bar.”
“That is basically marriage at seven.”
Renick smiled.
Then his phone rang.
He answered.
His face hardened.
“What?”
Belle watched.
“Where?”
He ended the call.
“Patrick escaped custody.”
Belle stared.
“Again?”
“No.”
Renick’s jaw tightened.
“The man we arrested wasn’t Patrick.”
“What?”
“DNA mismatch.”
Belle felt cold.
“He used a double?”
“Apparently.”
“Then where is he?”
Owen entered.
His face was gray.
“Micah’s school.”
Belle stopped breathing.
“What?”
Owen held up a security image.
Patrick standing outside Micah’s elementary school.
Taken that morning.
“Why?”
Belle whispered.
Renick answered.
“He knows you’ll go there.”
School was closed for summer programming.
But Micah’s classroom contained something Belle remembered suddenly.
Family project.
At the end of first grade, Micah made a box titled MY FAMILY.
Photographs.
Letters.
The red bird.
No.
The red bird had gone missing years earlier.
But maybe another object.
Owen’s key?
Belle’s heart raced.
“He knows Micah hid something.”
They drove to the school.
Naomi arrived separately.
The building was empty.
They entered Micah’s classroom.
Cubbies.
Small desks.
Alphabet posters.
Belle opened his old storage bin.
Inside was a cardboard family box.
She lifted the lid.
Pictures.
Owen.
Belle.
Baby Micah.
And a sealed envelope Belle had never seen.
TO MY SON.
Owen stared.
“I didn’t write that.”
Renick opened it carefully.
Inside was a photograph of Cormac Kavanaugh holding newborn Belle.
On the back:
For Isabella.
When she is old enough, tell her she was the only thing I ever wanted that I did not deserve.
Belle’s eyes filled.
Then a gun clicked behind them.
Patrick stood in the doorway.
The real Patrick.
Older than his double.
Thinner.
Same eyes.
“Beautiful, isn’t it?”
Renick stepped in front of Belle.
Patrick smiled.
“Always protecting the wrong sister.”
Renick froze.
Belle frowned.
“What?”
Patrick looked at her.
“You think you’re Cormac’s only hidden child?”
Silence.
He raised the gun.
“No.”
Patrick smiled.
“Maeve is not your sister.”
Renick’s face changed.
Patrick continued.
“She’s Eleanor’s daughter.”
Belle stared.
“By who?”
May you like
Patrick smiled.
“Sullivan Byrne.”
