Chapter 10 - Adrian Wanted the BoysMalcolm read the petition twice.
Then a third time.
Adrian sought custody of Jasper and Asher.
Not permanent.
“Protective temporary placement.”
Enough time to get access.
To the house.
To belongings.
To the watch.
To anything Thomas Hale left behind.
“He doesn’t want my sons,” Malcolm said.
Grant nodded.
“He wants what comes with them.”
“Then why both?”
“Leverage.”
Malcolm hated how obvious it was now.
If Adrian controlled Jasper and Asher, Malcolm would sign almost anything.
“Can he still get the order?”
“Not now.”
“Why?”
“The underlying evidence is contaminated.”
“Because Winifred was being manipulated?”
“Because Adrian failed to disclose relationships and potential conflicts.”
Good.
But Eleanor was still missing.
Then a Savannah traffic camera caught a vehicle leaving the motel area.
Dark SUV.
License plate partially visible.
Registered to Bright Harbor.
The same organization that officially claimed Adrian was abroad for a conference.
He wasn’t abroad.
He was moving Eleanor.
Police traced the SUV south.
Then lost it near Jacksonville.
Malcolm thought of the bank.
“He knew about the box.”
Grant nodded.
“Likely.”
Maybe Eleanor had allowed herself to be followed intentionally.
Maybe she wanted Adrian drawn toward the archive.
Or maybe she had been captured.
The uncertainty tortured him.
Then Jasper brought Malcolm something.
A drawing.
“Winifred told me to hide this.”
Malcolm looked.
Not a drawing.
A map.
Childish lines.
Jasper had copied it from something Eleanor showed Winifred on video.
“When?”
“Yesterday.”
“You talked to Eleanor?”
Jasper shook his head.
“I saw her on Winifred’s phone.”
Malcolm’s heart tightened.
His son had seen his supposedly dead mother.
“What did she say?”
“She said hi.”
“Did you know it was Mom?”
Jasper began crying.
“I thought it was a ghost.”
Malcolm hugged him.
“I’m sorry.”
“She told Winifred to make me draw the map.”
“Why?”
“So no phone would have it.”
Smart.
Analog.
No trace.
Malcolm studied the map.
A river.
Bridge.
Old church.
Number 17.
Grant identified the location.
An abandoned children’s camp outside Jacksonville.
Formerly owned by Bright Harbor.
Closed six years earlier.
Police moved.
Malcolm insisted on going but remained behind the perimeter.
The camp was empty.
Mostly.
Inside cabin 17 they found evidence someone had stayed recently.
Food.
Blankets.
Medical supplies.
And Eleanor’s scarf.
Malcolm recognized it.
Then the basement.
Hidden behind storage shelves.
Rows of boxes.
Child files.
Old identification photographs.
Birth certificates.
Court orders.
More records than in Thomas’s archive.
Adrian’s operational archive.
Grant stared.
“This could dismantle everything.”
Malcolm didn’t care yet.
“Where is Eleanor?”
No one knew.
Then an officer called from outside.
Vehicle tracks.
Fresh.
Leading toward the river.
At the riverbank they found another clue.
Eleanor’s bracelet.
Placed deliberately on a rock.
Not dropped.
Placed.
Next to it:
A note.
STOP FOLLOWING OR THE BOYS LOSE THEIR FATHER TOO.
Malcolm stared.
Adrian knew Malcolm was involved now.
Grant said quietly:
“He’s threatening you.”
Malcolm looked toward her.
“No.”
“What?”
“He’s telling me what he thinks I fear.”
Grant frowned.
Malcolm continued.
“That’s how he controls people.”
Fear of losing family.
Fear of exposure.
Fear of prison.
Fear of poverty.
Adrian had built decades on fear.
Malcolm folded the note.
“This time we don’t hide.”
“What are you thinking?”
“Release the archive.”
Grant’s expression changed.
“That could expose children.”
“Not names.”
“Then what?”
“Adrian.”
May you like
Malcolm looked at her.
“Make him realize his secrets aren’t leverage anymore.”
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