Chapter 6 - The DNA Report Had One ProblemConrad didn't confront Maureen further.
Not because he believed her.
Because Officer Ellis advised ending the argument and allowing the investigation to proceed through proper channels.
Maureen packed a suitcase.
She did it angrily.
She accused Conrad of humiliating her.
Of allowing staff to turn him against family.
Of choosing "Elise's lies" over his own mother.
Conrad said almost nothing.
Before leaving, Maureen stopped beside the front door.
"You'll regret this."
Conrad looked at her.
"That sounds like something you've probably said to Wren."
For once, Maureen had no response.
She left.
Conrad immediately changed the security codes.
Then he returned to Nina's house.
Wren was asleep.
He sat beside her bed for nearly an hour.
The DNA report remained folded in his pocket.
He hated it.
Not because he feared the answer.
Because of what Maureen had done with it.
Suppose it was real.
Suppose Elise had cheated.
Suppose Wren wasn't biologically his.
None of that justified terrorizing an eight-year-old child.
Wren had called him Daddy before she could pronounce his name.
He'd changed diapers.
Stayed awake through fevers.
Taught her to ride a bicycle.
Held her when Elise died.
Biology couldn't erase history.
The next morning, Conrad called the laboratory printed on the report.
Harrison Genetic Services.
The receptionist asked for the case number.
Conrad read it.
Silence.
"Could you repeat that?"
He did.
More typing.
"I'm sorry, sir. We have no record of that case number."
Conrad's chest tightened.
"Maybe it's old."
"What year?"
He told her.
"Our records go back twelve years."
"Could it have been private?"
"We still assign a case number."
Conrad looked at the report.
"What about the doctor listed?"
"Dr. Kevin Markham?"
"Yes."
Another pause.
"Dr. Markham has never worked here."
Conrad went completely still.
"Are you sure?"
"Yes."
He thanked her and ended the call.
Fake.
Or altered.
He called his attorney next.
Then a forensic document examiner.
By afternoon, they had a preliminary answer.
The report appeared to use Harrison's old letterhead.
But the formatting was inconsistent.
The signature block didn't match known templates.
The report was almost certainly fabricated.
Conrad sat in Nina's study staring at it.
Why?
Why would Maureen create fake proof Wren wasn't his?
Nina sat across from him.
"Control."
He looked up.
"What?"
"Mom has always wanted control."
"Of me?"
"Of everyone."
"That doesn't explain this."
"Maybe it does."
Nina leaned forward.
"Think about Dad's estate."
Conrad frowned.
Their father, Everett Whitaker, had died nine months earlier.
Founder of Whitaker Systems.
Worth hundreds of millions on paper.
His estate had been complicated but orderly.
Conrad inherited voting control of the company.
Nina received investment assets.
Maureen received lifetime income from several trusts.
Wren received something too.
Conrad's stomach tightened.
"The grandchildren's trust."
Nina nodded.
Everett had created it years earlier.
Each biological grandchild would receive shares at twenty-five.
Wren was currently the only grandchild.
Her trust held approximately eight percent of Whitaker Systems.
Worth tens of millions.
Conrad stood.
"If Wren isn't biologically mine—"
"She might not qualify."
"And where do the shares go?"
Nina already knew.
"Back to the family control trust until another eligible descendant exists."
"Who controls that?"
They stared at each other.
Maureen.
Not permanently.
But as surviving co-trustee under Everett's original structure.
Conrad felt sick.
"Mom would gain voting influence."
"Yes."
"Enough to matter?"
"Maybe."
Conrad called the family trust attorney, Henry Lawson.
Henry answered carefully.
"Conrad, I can't discuss trust administration casually."
"I'm not asking casually."
He explained the report.
The videos.
Maureen's fixation.
Henry became silent.
Then:
"Your father asked me about this."
Conrad stopped.
"When?"
"Approximately four years ago."
"Before Elise died."
"Yes."
"What did he ask?"
"Whether Wren's eligibility could be challenged."
"By whom?"
"He didn't say."
"Did he believe she wasn't mine?"
"No."
Henry's answer came immediately.
"Everett was furious."
"About what?"
"He said someone had brought him supposed evidence questioning Wren's paternity."
Maureen.
Conrad knew.
"What did Dad do?"
"He ordered an independent test."
Conrad's heart pounded.
"What result?"
Henry hesitated.
"I never saw it."
"Who did?"
"Everett."
"Anyone else?"
"Elise."
Conrad sat.
"Where is it?"
"I don't know."
"Did my father keep copies?"
"Possibly."
Conrad looked toward the broken birdhouse in his mind.
A silver key.
An original.
Maureen's words:
If Conrad finds the original before I do, everything changes.
"Henry."
"Yes?"
"Did my father keep important documents somewhere outside the main estate?"
Silence.
"Conrad, why?"
"Because I think Elise hid something."
Henry lowered his voice.
"Your father maintained a private safe-deposit box at First Lakeshore Bank."
Conrad's pulse accelerated.
"Who had access?"
"Everett."
"After his death?"
"The executor."
"Which is?"
Henry paused.
"You."
Conrad stared.
"I never received a key."
"Then you need one."
The silver key.
Everything clicked into place.
Conrad ended the call.
He went upstairs to Wren.
She was drawing at Nina's kitchen table.
He sat beside her.
"Birdie."
She looked up.
"I think I figured out what Mommy's key opens."
Wren stared.
Then whispered:
"Grandpa's box?"
Conrad froze.
"You know about Grandpa's box?"
Wren nodded.
"Mommy said the key was for something Grandpa wanted you to see."
"Where is it?"
Wren looked frightened again.
Conrad touched her hand.
"You don't have to tell me."
She studied him.
Then reached for her stuffed rabbit.
On the rabbit's left foot, beneath a patch shaped like a blue bird, was a zipper Conrad had never noticed.
Wren opened it.
Inside—
May you like
wrapped in tissue paper—
was a tiny silver key.
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