Chapter 4 — My Son Had Been Right

The name beneath my finger was Celeste Voss.

My former wife.

Piper’s mother.

I read it twice, then checked the date against the first page. Seven years ago. The clinic’s address was in Switzerland, outside the city where Celeste had claimed she was attending meetings.

“She gave birth there?” I asked.

“That is what the record states,” Castillo said. “The clinic will need to confirm the document through an appropriate request.”

“And Noelle raised the baby.”

“Yes.”

I reached for the letter again.

Celeste told me the child’s father was someone she could not publicly acknowledge. She said her marriage was already falling apart, and that another child would destroy what remained of it.

She paid me to take Piper. At first, I told myself I was helping a frightened woman. Then I held the baby, and I stopped thinking about the money.

My eyes moved down the page.

Noelle had described the arrangements with painful care. Celeste’s absence. The payments. The instruction that nobody was ever to connect the child with the Ashford name.

I remembered those months.

Celeste and I had been separated in everything but paperwork. She traveled frequently. I stopped asking where she went because every question became an argument, and every argument ended with one of us leaving the house.

Later, we had tried again.

Wyatt had been born after that reconciliation. For a little while, we had both behaved as though wanting a child meant we knew how to make a family.

Piper had already existed.

Somewhere, while I was buying a crib for my son, another child with his mother’s eyes was being raised by a woman whose last name I hadn’t bothered to learn.

I put the birth record beside the photograph Knox had printed for me.

Wyatt’s arm lay across Piper’s shoulders.

Dad, this is my sister.

He had been right.

Neither child had known why.

“Mr. Ashford?”

Castillo was holding out a glass of water.

I took it, though I didn’t drink.

“Did Celeste ever try to take Piper back?”

“There are references to occasional visits in the letter.”

I found them.

She came twice when Piper was a baby. Once after her first birthday. After that, she asked for photographs.

She always wanted to know whether the child was healthy. She never asked whether she was happy.

I could hear Celeste asking those questions.

Practical. Controlled. Concern expressed in a form that required nothing of her.

Noelle had loved the girl differently.

There were descriptions of a first fever, a stubborn refusal to eat peas, a stuffed bear bought after Piper became frightened of sleeping alone.

The bear.

I stopped at a sentence near the bottom.

Piper calls me Mama. Whatever you learn about her birth, please do not let anyone tell her that the love she remembers was a lie.

I set the letter down.

Castillo watched me without speaking.

“She was her mother,” I said.

“Yes.”

“The woman who raised her.”

“Yes.”

I took out my phone and called Knox.

“Piper is Celeste’s daughter.”

For several seconds, I heard only the low background noise of traffic.

“Silas?”

“I have a birth record and Noelle’s account. We’ll verify them. But that’s what they say.”

“Then Wyatt—”

“Her half brother.”

Knox exhaled slowly.

“Does Piper know?”

“No.”

“Don’t tell her over the phone.”

“I wasn’t planning to.”

I looked at the photograph.

A day earlier, I had thought my son had invented a family for a lonely girl.

Now I understood that two children had found each other despite every arrangement adults had made to keep them apart.

“Keep watching the house,” I said. “And find out whether anyone besides Noelle and Celeste knew.”

“There’s more in that envelope, isn’t there?”

“Yes.”

“Call me when you finish.”

I ended the call and returned to the letter.

The tone changed halfway down the next page.

Noelle stopped writing about Piper.

She began writing about Garrett Sinclair.

After Celeste married him, he asked me to continue assisting with certain accounts. He said the work was legitimate and that discretion was necessary because of your business interests.

I believed him until I saw the same payments moving between companies without any service being provided.

There were names beneath that paragraph.

Meridian Holdings.

Two overseas firms.

An account associated with an Ashford subsidiary.

I knew that last company. We used it for equipment purchases.

“What are these attachments?” I asked.

“Copies of records she provided.”

“Did you review them?”

“Enough to understand that her concerns were serious. Not enough to prove every allegation. I advised her to speak to investigators.”

“She refused.”

“She said she needed time to put Piper somewhere safe.”

“And she died before she did.”

Castillo lowered his eyes.

“Yes.”

I unfolded a printed email.

Garrett had written to Noelle asking her to reconcile a set of transfers. Celeste was copied on the message.

The attachment listed payments routed through a purchasing account I recognized.

I had authorized that account.

I hadn’t authorized those payments.

Another page contained Noelle’s handwritten notes about a conversation with Garrett.

Stop asking about the recipient companies.

Then, beneath it:

He knew which preschool Piper attended.

I looked up.

“He threatened the child.”

“That was her understanding.”

“You keep choosing your words carefully.”

“I am a lawyer holding the papers of a dead woman. Careful words are part of keeping her claims useful.”

I wanted certainty. A name I could give my men. A door they could break through.

Castillo offered me something less satisfying and more durable.

A starting point.

I read to the end.

Noelle described becoming ill after she had questioned the transfers. She believed someone had harmed her, but she had no proof. Her final request was simple.

If I cannot finish this, please find someone who can. Keep Piper away from Garrett. If you discover what Celeste has helped him do, do not assume he will leave a child alone.

The letter was dated three years earlier.

A year before Wyatt died.

Noelle hadn’t predicted my son’s death. She had identified a man willing to threaten one child to protect his money.

I gathered the papers into their original order.

“I need copies,” I said.

“Of course.”

“Preserve the envelope. Your appointment records too. Anything showing when she brought this.”

Castillo nodded.

“And whatever requests are needed to verify the birth record, start them through my attorney.”

“I’ll coordinate with him.”

I stood.

At the door, I stopped.

“You said you made inquiries after she died.”

“I did.”

“Write down every person you contacted. Every response.”

He didn’t defend himself again.

“I will.”

My driver opened the car door, but I remained on the sidewalk long enough to call Joanna’s house.

Piper answered.

“Hello?”

“It’s Silas.”

A small breath.

“Did you find out about the lady?”

“Not yet.”

“Are you coming back?”

“Yes.”

“When?”

“As soon as I can. There’s a woman who may come to talk with you about how things are at home. Her job is to listen.”

“Am I in trouble?”

“No. You haven’t done anything wrong.”

She was quiet.

“Can I keep the coat?”

“Yes, Piper. It’s yours.”

“Even if I move?”

“Especially if you move.”

I heard a door close somewhere behind her.

“Wyatt said I could keep his blanket.”

“I know.”

“Did he tell you?”

“No. Claire did.”

“Oh.”

I didn’t tell her about the birth record. She deserved more than a stranger’s voice explaining that the mother she remembered wasn’t the woman who had given birth to her.

“Keep your picture safe,” I said.

“I put it with my bear.”

“Good.”

After the call, I sent Knox the account details.

He called back before I reached my office.

“I’ve seen this payment route before,” he said.

“Where?”

“In a Mercer investigation that never went anywhere. Different company name. Same intermediary.”

I watched the rain collect against the window.

Victor Mercer had spent years keeping his operations outside my territory.

Apparently, he had found another way in.

“Check the access history,” I said. “I want to know who opened that door.”

Knox was silent for a moment.

Then he said, “The earliest authorization carries Celeste’s name.”