Chapter 7 - THE BLOODLINE
Detective Brooks arrived before sunrise.
“I know what Robert meant.”
I sat up.
“What?”
“We checked your husband's birth records.”
“And?”
“There are inconsistencies.”
“What kind?”
His original birth certificate listed one father.
A later amended certificate listed another.
The first father had died when my husband was two.
The second man had died before my husband was born.
I stared at the documents.
“That doesn't make sense.”
“No.”
Brooks placed another file on the table.
“Your husband may not be biologically related to the Carter family.”
I looked at him.
“Then why did Robert say the family needed my baby?”
“Because your baby may be the only biological heir.”
I felt dizzy.
“Of what?”
Brooks opened the final document.
A trust.
Worth nearly eighty million dollars.
I stared at the number.
“Eighty million?”
“More.”
“Who owns it?”
“The Carter estate.”
“And who inherits it?”
“Your husband's biological children.”
I looked at my stomach.
My baby.
The entire conspiracy suddenly became clear.
They didn't want my child because they loved it.
They wanted my child because of money.
But there was another question.
Why kill me?
Brooks answered it without me asking.
“If you die before the baby is born, they can claim control through your husband.”
I stared at him.
“And if I survive?”
“You can fight for custody.”
“And if my husband proves the baby isn't his?”
“Then the trust may be controlled by another branch of the family.”
I looked at the documents.
“Who?”
Brooks didn't answer.
He slid over a photograph.
A young woman.
I recognized her.
She had been at our wedding.
She had smiled at me.
She had congratulated us.
My husband's cousin.
Natalie.
The woman Rachel had mentioned.
The woman who had been pregnant.
I stared at her photograph.
“She isn't his mistress.”
“No.”
“Then why was she involved?”
Brooks looked at me.
“Because she may be the biological heir.”
That afternoon, Natalie agreed to meet.
She arrived with an attorney.
She looked exhausted.
“I never wanted any of this.”
“Then tell me the truth.”
She started crying.
“My pregnancy was part of their plan.”
“What plan?”
“They wanted me to give the baby up.”
“Why?”
“Because the baby wasn't supposed to survive.”
My blood ran cold.
“What?”
“They told me the pregnancy had complications.”
She shook her head.
“They lied.”
“Who?”
“Margaret.”
I stared at her.
“She told me the baby had a genetic disorder.”
“And?”
“My doctor disagreed.”
Natalie looked at my stomach.
“That's when I realized.”
“What?”
“They weren't trying to protect the family.”
“They were eliminating heirs.”
Silence.
Then she whispered:
“They've done it before.”
Detective Brooks asked for details.
Natalie described another pregnancy.
Another woman.
Another death.
Twenty years earlier.
The woman had been Margaret's daughter.
She had died shortly after giving birth.
The baby disappeared.
Nobody knew where it went.
Except Margaret.
And Robert.
My skin crawled.
“How many?”
Natalie shook her head.
“I don't know.”
Brooks looked at me.
“This isn't just a custody case anymore.”
“No.”
I looked at the files.
“It never was.”
That night, someone broke into my house.
The police arrived before I did.
Nothing appeared stolen.
Except one thing.
The old family photograph from our wedding.
Someone had taken a red marker and circled my husband.
Then Natalie.
Then me.
May you like
Across the bottom, someone had written:
ONLY ONE OF YOU GETS TO KEEP THE BABY.
