Chapter 7 - CLAIRE’S BLOOD
Adrian returned to the lake house with a secret he did not know how to deliver.
Claire was helping Owen assemble a model drone at the dining table when he walked in.
She looked up immediately.
“What happened?”
Adrian glanced at Owen.
“Can we talk?”
Claire’s eyes narrowed.
“That sentence never leads anywhere good.”
Owen looked between them.
“Is someone trying to kill us again?”
Claire closed her eyes.
“Owen.”
“What? They are.”
Adrian pulled out a chair.
“Marcus is arranging dinner.”
Owen understood instantly.
“You want me to leave.”
“I want to speak with Claire for ten minutes.”
“About me?”
“Not directly.”
“That means yes.”
Adrian almost smiled.
“You really are my son.”
Owen frowned.
“Was that supposed to distract me?”
“No.”
“It didn’t.”
“I noticed.”
Eventually Owen took the drone and went upstairs.
Claire waited until his door closed.
“What happened?”
“Richard Sloan is alive.”
“That’s good.”
“He told me Grace contacted him.”
Claire stiffened.
“About what?”
“A trust document.”
“What does that have to do with me?”
Adrian sat opposite her.
“Claire, what do you know about your father?”
The question clearly surprised her.
“My father?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Just answer.”
She folded her arms.
“His name was Michael Dawson. He died when I was six.”
“What did he do?”
“Insurance.”
“Your mother?”
“Died nine years ago.”
“Did she ever tell you anything unusual about your birth?”
Claire’s expression hardened.
“What exactly are you asking?”
Adrian realized there was no gentle route.
“Richard claims my father was your biological father.”
Claire stared at him.
Then laughed.
Not because it was funny.
Because it was absurd.
“Excuse me?”
“Grace apparently discovered—”
“No.”
“Claire.”
“No.”
She stood.
“My father was Michael Dawson.”
“I’m not saying he wasn’t your father.”
“Yes, you are.”
“I’m saying James Cole may have been your biological father.”
Claire stared at him with open anger.
“And Grace knew?”
“Possibly only recently.”
Claire walked toward the window.
“No.”
Adrian remained seated.
“My mother had an affair?”
“I don’t know.”
“She hated James Cole.”
“You knew him?”
“Of course I knew him.”
That surprised Adrian.
“How?”
Claire turned.
“He came to Briar Glen sometimes when I was little.”
Adrian froze.
“What?”
“My mother did accounting work for one of his foundations.”
“Why didn’t I know that?”
“Because we didn’t meet until college, Adrian.”
Claire rubbed her forehead.
“This is insane.”
Adrian’s mind raced.
His father had visited.
He had known Claire’s mother.
Possibly Claire.
“Do you remember him?”
“A little.”
“What?”
Claire hesitated.
“He brought me books.”
“What kind?”
“Science books.”
Adrian almost laughed.
Of course.
“He bought me a microscope when I turned five.”
“Did Michael Dawson know him?”
“I don’t know.”
She sank slowly into a chair.
“My father drank.”
Adrian waited.
“He and Mom fought sometimes.”
“About James?”
“I don’t remember.”
Claire’s face had gone pale.
Then something occurred to her.
“Oh my God.”
“What?”
“When Michael died, James paid for the funeral.”
Adrian sat straighter.
“How do you know?”
“My mother told me years later. She said it was through the foundation.”
Adrian’s phone rang.
Marcus.
“I have something.”
“What?”
“I ran Claire Dawson’s background through archival corporate records.”
Adrian looked at Claire.
“And?”
“Her mother, Elizabeth Dawson, worked as executive assistant to James Cole from 1986 to 1995.”
Claire overheard.
Her eyes closed.
Marcus continued.
“Claire was born in 1989.”
Adrian did the math.
“Anything else?”
“There were monthly payments from a private James Cole account to Elizabeth Dawson for sixteen years.”
Adrian’s stomach tightened.
“How much?”
“Varied. Enough to cover schooling, healthcare, housing.”
Claire whispered, “Put him on speaker.”
Adrian did.
Marcus repeated the information.
Claire looked shattered.
“Why would my mother never tell me?”
Marcus replied carefully.
“There’s more.”
“Of course there is.”
“After James Cole died, the payments continued from a trust administered by Richard Sloan.”
Adrian looked toward the door.
Owen stood at the top of the stairs.
They had not heard him.
He stared at Claire.
“So you’re my aunt?”
Claire covered her face.
“This family needs simpler problems.”
Owen walked down slowly.
“Are you?”
Adrian answered.
“We don’t know yet.”
“DNA test.”
Both adults stared at him.
Owen shrugged.
“You’re rich. How hard can that be?”
Despite everything, Claire laughed.
A real laugh this time.
Adrian shook his head.
“Disturbingly practical.”
“He gets that from me,” Claire said automatically.
Then all three went quiet.
Because perhaps, biologically, he partly did.
A DNA test was arranged that afternoon.
Results could be expedited.
Meanwhile Marcus continued investigating.
By evening, he uncovered something darker.
Grace had not stumbled upon Claire’s parentage accidentally.
She had been looking for Thomas Vale.
Instead, she discovered an archived file connected to Samuel Cole’s trust.
It listed every known descendant.
James Cole.
Adrian Cole.
And a sealed entry marked C.D.
Claire Dawson.
Grace had apparently realized Claire might be Adrian’s half-sister.
She had contacted Sloan.
Then, three weeks later, she died.
Pancreatic cancer explained her death medically.
But Adrian had learned not to trust coincidence.
He requested Grace’s medical records with Claire’s authorization.
Nothing appeared suspicious.
Cancer had been diagnosed properly.
Treatment had failed.
Grace’s death was tragic.
Not murder.
Adrian hated himself for feeling relieved.
That night, Owen could not sleep.
Adrian found him sitting on the dock beneath a blanket.
“You’re going to give security a heart attack.”
“They know I’m here.”
Adrian sat beside him.
For several minutes, they watched moonlight move across the lake.
Then Owen asked, “Did you love my mom?”
“Yes.”
“How much?”
Adrian considered.
“Enough that I spent twelve years pretending I didn’t.”
Owen thought about that.
“That sounds stupid.”
“It was.”
“Did you date other people?”
“Yes.”
“Did you love them?”
“No.”
Owen looked surprised.
“Why?”
“Because some part of me was still waiting for something I thought would never happen.”
“For Mom to come back?”
“Maybe.”
Owen touched the ring around his neck.
“She wore this every day.”
Adrian looked at it.
“My ring?”
“She said it reminded her of a promise.”
“What promise?”
Owen pulled the chain over his head.
He placed the ring in Adrian’s palm.
Inside the band was an engraving Adrian had forgotten.
Find me after every storm.
He closed his hand.
“I said that to her once.”
“When?”
“We got lost hiking in Colorado.”
“You got lost?”
“Very lost.”
“You own satellites.”
“I didn’t then.”
Owen smiled.
Adrian handed the ring back.
“She kept it.”
“Even when she was mad at you.”
Adrian looked at the lake.
“I wish she had called.”
“She did once.”
Adrian turned sharply.
“What?”
Owen shrugged.
“When I was little.”
“How little?”
“I don’t know. Maybe six?”
His pulse accelerated.
“What happened?”
“She called somebody and hung up.”
“Did she say who?”
“No.”
“Did you hear anything?”
Owen thought.
“She cried afterward.”
Adrian stood.
His old personal number from twelve years ago had been transferred through his executive office.
Every call log was archived.
He called Rachel.
“Search communications records from five years ago for calls originating in Briar Glen, Virginia.”
“At this hour?”
“Yes.”
“How urgent?”
“Extremely.”
Twenty minutes later, Rachel called back.
“One call.”
Adrian gripped the phone.
“When?”
“March 17, 2021. Eleven forty-three p.m.”
“How long?”
“Twenty-two seconds.”
“Was it answered?”
“By your executive call center.”
“Who handled it?”
Rachel went silent.
“Rachel?”
“The call was transferred.”
“To whom?”
Another pause.
“Victoria Cole.”
Adrian’s blood went cold.
His mother had intercepted Grace’s call.
Again.
He barely slept.
The next morning, the DNA results arrived.
Adrian, Claire, and Owen gathered around the kitchen table.
Marcus opened the encrypted report.
“Probability that Adrian Cole and Claire Dawson share one biological parent…”
Claire squeezed Owen’s hand.
Marcus looked up.
“99.98 percent.”
Claire closed her eyes.
Owen whispered, “Aunt Claire.”
She laughed through tears.
“Apparently.”
Adrian did not know what he felt.
A sister.
His closest enemy over the past two days was his sister.
Grace’s best friend had unknowingly been part of his family all along.
Then Marcus’s phone vibrated.
He read the message.
His face changed.
“What now?” Adrian asked.
“We found Thomas.”
Everyone froze.
“Where?”
“He didn’t run.”
Marcus turned the laptop.
A livestream had appeared online.
Thomas Vale sat in an empty industrial warehouse.
Behind him was Richard Sloan.
Bound to a chair.
Adrian stared.
“That’s impossible. Sloan is at the hospital.”
Marcus immediately called.
His expression hardened.
“No, he isn’t.”
“What?”
“He disappeared twenty minutes ago.”
On screen, Thomas smiled into the camera.
“Adrian, congratulations on finding your sister.”
Claire went pale.
Thomas continued.
“Your father created quite a complicated family.”
Then he raised a folder.
“But if you want the final truth about Grace, your mother, and who really owns Cole Meridian…”
Thomas leaned toward the camera.
“…bring Owen Bennett to me.”
Adrian’s expression became murderous.
“No.”
Thomas smiled wider.
“I thought you’d say that.”
A second camera angle appeared.
It showed the lake house.
Live.
Claire gasped.
Thomas’s voice continued.
“You see, Adrian, you still believe you’re deciding whether to bring him.”
A red laser dot appeared against the living-room window.
Then moved slowly across the glass.
Toward Owen’s chest.
May you like
Adrian threw himself over his son.
The window exploded.
