Chapter 4 - MY MOTHER’S WARNING
My mother, Evelyn Bennett, lived in Florida.
Or so I believed.
Ortiz traced the message to Brooklyn.
The address belonged to a Carter-owned senior residence.
My mother had returned to New York six months earlier without telling me.
Vincent did not look surprised.
“You knew?”
“I knew she entered the city.”
“You watched her?”
“I protected the storage unit.”
“That is not the same thing.”
“No.”
The honesty did not make the surveillance acceptable.
Ortiz obtained a warrant for the residence.
My mother’s room was empty.
Inside were photographs of me and Ryan taken throughout our marriage.
Some came from cameras inside our apartment.
Others showed Vincent’s men following me.
Both sides had watched.
On the desk lay the children’s book.
The Little Red Door.
Several pages had been removed.
The inside cover contained my father’s handwriting.
LENA KNOWS THE CODE.
I remembered no code.
A recording on my mother’s phone explained part of the truth.
She said Vincent did not start the warehouse fire, but he knew it would happen. He had been negotiating with my father to expose Carter Development.
He delayed going to police because he wanted stronger proof.
During that delay, the Carter family burned the building.
Vincent’s strategy cost lives.
My father blamed him before dying.
Yet he still entrusted Vincent with protecting me because the official system was compromised.
No clean hero.
No simple villain.
My mother confessed that she later accepted Carter money and helped suppress my memories.
She told herself it kept me alive.
Then Ryan’s mother, Margaret Carter, threatened to expose my identity unless Evelyn guided Ryan toward me.
My own mother helped arrange our first meeting.
She watched me marry the son of the family responsible for my father’s death.
Then regretted it.
She entered New York to recover the book before Ryan found it.
The missing pages contained the real ledger.
She moved them somewhere only I would recognize.
The recording ended with a warning.
“Vincent wants justice. The Carters want control. Both men will tell you your pain is necessary.”
I looked toward Vincent.
He did not deny it.
“What did you plan to do with the ledger?”
“Destroy Carter Development.”
“And if I refused?”
“I would find another way.”
“Would you?”
His silence answered poorly.
Then Ortiz received a call.
Ryan had escaped from the secure apartment where Vincent’s men held him.
One guard was unconscious.
The other was gone.
Ryan took the black card, my purse, and Vincent’s gun.
He called me directly.
“Come home alone.”
“No.”
“I have your mother.”
A video appeared.
Evelyn sat inside our apartment bathroom, her wrists tied, the broken door behind her.
Ryan pressed the stolen gun against her head.
“Bring Vincent,” he said. “And bring the book.”
My mother looked into the camera.
Then glanced toward the blood-stained towel on the floor.
Her fingers moved subtly.
Three taps.
Pause.
Two taps.
Pause.
Three taps.
May you like
A childhood rhythm.
The code to the red door.
