Chapter 10 - JACKSON HEARS THE RECORDING
The bullet passed through the flesh beneath my ribs without striking a major organ.
That was the phrase the surgeon used.
Without striking a major organ.
As though the difference between life and death could be reduced to the good manners of a piece of metal.
I woke in intensive care with Judith sleeping in a chair beside me.
A scarf remained around my head.
Someone had cleaned the blood from my skin.
“Jackson?” I whispered.
Judith woke instantly.
“He is safe.”
“The baby?”
“Safe. Elena too.”
Relief hurt almost as much as the wound.
“Thomas?”
“Dead.”
“Mercer?”
“Escaped.”
“Patricia?”
“Escaped.”
“Natalie?”
Judith’s expression hardened.
“In custody.”
Natalie had given Agent Cross the code to Elena’s room and the location of Patricia’s secondary vehicle. She also provided an address where Mercer stored documents.
Then she requested an attorney.
“Did she save me?” I asked.
“She applied pressure to the wound.”
“That was not my question.”
Judith looked toward the window.
“She may have kept you alive until the medics reached you.”
Life refused to divide people into simple categories.
Natalie had drugged me, shaved my head, targeted my estate and participated in a plan to murder my son.
She had also pressed both hands against my wound and begged me not to die.
Neither truth erased the other.
Jackson entered the room carrying two cups of coffee.
He looked older than he had on his wedding morning.
When he saw my eyes open, he set the cups down and came to the bed.
“You are not allowed to do that again.”
“Get shot?”
“Step in front of me.”
“I will put it on my calendar.”
He laughed and cried at the same time.
Then he rested his forehead against my hand.
“I am sorry.”
“You have said that.”
“I will keep saying it.”
“Then learn new words.”
He sat beside me.
Elena had identified Natalie, Patricia, Adrian and Mercer. The infant was reunited with her biological mother, a young woman named Camille Harris.
Camille had been told the baby died during delivery.
The child was healthy.
Elena was dehydrated and traumatized but physically stable.
“What will happen to Natalie?” I asked.
“She is negotiating.”
“For immunity?”
“Reduced charges in exchange for testimony.”
Judith made a disgusted sound.
“She deserves prison for the rest of her life.”
“Yes,” I said.
Jackson looked at me.
“You agree?”
“Saving my life does not cancel what she did.”
He nodded, but I saw conflict in his eyes.
“You still love her,” I said.
“I don’t know what love means anymore.”
“It means your emotions do not obey evidence as quickly as your mind.”
“She asked to see me.”
“Will you?”
“Agent Cross thinks she may reveal more if I do.”
“That was not what I asked.”
He looked toward the floor.
“Yes. I need to see her.”
Two days later, Jackson met Natalie in a federal detention interview room.
I watched through a secure video connection from the hospital with Agent Cross and Rebecca.
Natalie wore a plain gray uniform. Without makeup and wedding satin, she looked younger.
She also looked more dangerous because there was nothing left to distract from her eyes.
Jackson sat across from her.
For a long moment, neither spoke.
Then Natalie said, “How is your mother?”
“Alive.”
“I know.”
“You asked.”
“I wanted to hear you say it.”
“Why?”
“Because I still see the blood.”
Jackson’s voice remained flat.
“You created that room.”
“I didn’t tell Thomas to shoot her.”
“You helped bring us there.”
“I gave the code for Elena.”
“After the money disappeared.”
Natalie looked away.
“You always believed you were different from your family,” Jackson said.
“I am.”
“You became exactly like them.”
“No.”
“You used a kidnapped baby to demand money.”
“I was trying to survive.”
“You had years to leave.”
“You don’t understand what Grant does to people who leave.”
“My father understood.”
She flinched.
“Your father was arrogant.”
“My father was trying to protect us.”
“He threatened to expose my mother.”
“Your mother helped kill elderly men.”
“You think your family became rich without destroying anyone?”
“No. I think people can build a business imperfectly without poisoning them.”
Natalie leaned forward.
“Frank offered me money.”
“For what?”
“To stay away from you.”
Jackson’s expression shifted.
“How much?”
“Five million.”
“Did you take it?”
“No.”
“Why?”
“Because by then I loved you.”
“Or because one hundred twenty million was better.”
Her eyes filled.
“I knew about the trust before I met you. That is true. Grant told me to approach you. He gave me your schedules and told me what you liked.”
“What parts were real?”
“The first night we stayed awake talking.”
“You knew my favorite book.”
“I read it because Grant told me to.”
“You knew where Dad took me fishing.”
“I memorized the story.”
“You cried when I described his funeral.”
“I was crying for myself.”
Jackson sat back.
There was the answer.
Not one clean truth.
A mixture of strategy, imitation and genuine emotion.
“What did you want from me?” he asked.
“At first? Access.”
“And later?”
“A life.”
“You planned to take one from me.”
“I was not going to let the plane crash.”
“You disabled the warning system.”
“Adrian did.”
“You knew.”
“Yes.”
“You let me board.”
“I planned to stop it before takeoff.”
“How?”
She said nothing.
“You did not have a plan.”
“I would have made one.”
“You always say that after someone else gets hurt.”
Natalie lowered her head.
Jackson removed a small device from his pocket.
“What is that?” she asked.
“A recording.”
He played Ethan’s bridal-suite audio.
Not the section about the plane.
An earlier section.
Patricia’s voice said:
Once Jackson is gone, the child claim gives us leverage against Margaret.
Natalie answered:
There is no child yet.
There will be. Grant has three women ready.
And if the baby does not resemble Jackson?
Then we choose another.
Natalie closed her eyes.
Jackson continued the recording.
His own wife laughed while discussing how easily he would accept a child after grief.
She said he was desperate to be loved.
The audio ended.
Jackson stared at her.
“You did not decide to take a baby because Grant forced you at the last minute.”
“No.”
“You planned it.”
“Yes.”
“You watched me build a nursery.”
“Yes.”
“You let me choose names.”
Her voice became almost inaudible.
“Yes.”
He removed his wedding ring from his pocket.
“I kept this because part of me thought I needed proof that something between us happened.”
He placed it on the table.
“Now it is evidence.”
Natalie began crying.
Jackson stood.
“I will testify against you.”
“Jackson.”
“I will tell the jury everything I gave you. Every password. Every document. Every warning I ignored.”
“You will destroy me.”
“No.”
He looked down at her.
“You did that before I understood what was happening.”
He walked toward the door.
Natalie struck the glass partition with both hands.
“I know where Mercer keeps Frank’s original file.”
Jackson stopped.
Agent Cross leaned toward the monitor.
Natalie continued.
“It contains the names of judges, doctors, guardians and bankers he paid. It proves your father was not the first.”
“Where?”
“I will tell you after I speak to Margaret.”
Agent Cross looked at me.
“She wants leverage.”
“Of course.”
“You do not have to meet her.”
“Yes,” I said.
“I do.”
Natalie and I met the following morning.
I remained in a wheelchair because walking pulled at the wound.
When I entered, her gaze moved to my scarf.
“Your hair is growing.”
“So is the case against you.”
She almost smiled.
“I always liked that about you.”
“What?”
“You never wasted words when a sharper one was available.”
“Flattery is late.”
“I am not asking you to forgive me.”
“Good.”
She looked toward the camera in the corner.
“Grant keeps the original file at Briar Hill.”
“The house was searched.”
“Not the house.”
She described a storm cellar beneath an abandoned greenhouse. The entrance required a code based on Patricia’s first victim’s birthday.
“What is in the file?”
“Everything. Payments. Death certificates. Medical substitutions. Copies of wills.”
“Why did Mercer keep it?”
“Insurance against the people who worked for him.”
“Including you?”
“Yes.”
“Why tell me now?”
“Because my mother left me at the dam.”
“That surprised you?”
Natalie’s eyes hardened.
“It should not have.”
“No.”
She looked down at her hands.
“I thought when the moment came, she would choose me.”
“We often remain loyal to the version of a parent we needed rather than the one we received.”
Her gaze rose.
“You understand.”
“I understand disappointment. Do not confuse that with absolution.”
She swallowed.
“There is one more thing in the file.”
“What?”
“A copy of Frank’s revised trust.”
“He never revised the trust.”
“Yes, he did.”
She leaned closer.
“He removed Jackson as automatic successor.”
My heart quickened.
“Why?”
“Because he discovered Jackson had another living relative.”
“What relative?”
May you like
Natalie watched my face.
“Frank had a daughter.”
