Chapter 3: The Brother Who Buried Her
I read the message three times.
Then I called the ambulance.
No answer.
I called again.
Still nothing.
“Detective Morgan,” I said, holding out my phone.
“Someone says my brother is already at the hospital.””
She read the message.
“Which hospital?””
“St. Catherine's Medical Center.””
“Who is your brother?””
“Jonathan Hale. He's a senior surgeon there.””
Morgan immediately called the hospital.
I paced beside the pool while she spoke.
The terrace was almost empty now. Police officers were photographing the hatch, collecting the medicine bottles, and questioning the remaining guests.
The engagement flowers had been knocked over.
Champagne had soaked into the marble.
The red velvet ring box sat open beneath a table.
Everything looked like the remains of a celebration that had never happened.
“Mr. Hale.””
I turned.
Detective Morgan was holding her phone.
“The ambulance has arrived at St. Catherine's. Your wife is being treated in the emergency department.””
“Good. I'm going.””
“Wait.””
“What now?””
She lowered her voice.
“The hospital says Dr. Jonathan Hale is not currently on duty.””
I frowned.
“Then why would that message say he's there?””
“Because somebody entered his employee credentials into the hospital's internal system twenty minutes ago.””
My chest tightened.
“Can you contact hospital security?””
“Already did.””
She paused.
“There's another problem.””
“What?””
“Your brother's access badge was used to enter the restricted medical records department at 8:36 p.m.””
I stared at her.
“That's impossible. He should be at home.””
“Then let's find out where he is.””
We drove to the hospital with two police officers following behind.
During the journey, I couldn't stop thinking about Elena's last words.
Don't trust the doctor.
Your brother.
Jonathan and I had grown up together.
After our parents died, he had practically raised me. He was the person who helped me build my company, the person who stood beside me at my wedding, and the person who held my shoulder at Elena's memorial service.
When I couldn't sleep, he had given me medication to calm my nerves.
When I struggled with grief, he had recommended a private therapist.
When Ava cried for her mother, he had told me children sometimes needed help accepting loss.
I had trusted him with everything.
Even my wife.
The hospital doors slid open.
A security guard approached us.
“Mr. Hale?””
“Yes.””
“Detective Morgan, we've been expecting you.””
“Where is Dr. Jonathan Hale?””
The guard looked uncomfortable.
“His badge was used in the records department, but the cameras show someone else.””
He led us to a security office.
A monitor displayed grainy footage from the hospital corridor.
At 8:36 p.m., a man wearing a dark surgical coat entered the restricted area.
He was tall.
Broad-shouldered.
His face was partly hidden beneath a surgical cap.
But I recognized the way he walked.
Jonathan.
“Zoom in,” I said.
The guard enlarged the image.
The man turned toward the camera.
For half a second, his face was visible.
It was my brother.
Detective Morgan leaned closer.
“Can you access the corridor outside the emergency department?””
The guard switched screens.
A second camera showed a hallway near the treatment rooms.
At 9:04 p.m., Jonathan appeared again.
He walked toward a nurse's station carrying a small black case.
Then he entered a room.
Room 214.
Elena's room.
I rushed toward the door.
“Which way?””
The guard pointed.
I ran.
Detective Morgan shouted behind me.
“Mr. Hale! Wait for the officers!””
I didn't stop.
I reached Room 214 and pushed the door open.
The room was empty.
The bed sheets were still warm.
An IV line dangled from the side of the mattress.
A small glass vial lay on the floor.
I picked it up.
There was a label on it.
*Midazolam.*
A nurse rushed into the room.
“Sir! You can't be here!””
“Where is my wife?””
“Your wife was transferred.””
“Transferred where?””
She looked confused.
“Dr. Hale authorized the transfer.””
“Which Dr. Hale?””
“Dr. Jonathan Hale.””
I grabbed the edge of the bed.
“Where did he take her?””
The nurse stepped backward.
“I don't know. He said it was a private medical transfer.””
Detective Morgan entered with two officers.
“Lock down the hospital,” she ordered.
“Nobody leaves until we identify the destination.””
The nurse began trembling.
“Detective, I didn't know anything was wrong. Dr. Hale showed me the transfer authorization.””
“Did you see the patient?””
“Yes.””
“Was she conscious?””
The nurse hesitated.
“No.””
My fingers tightened around the vial.
“She was unconscious?””
The nurse nodded.
“Dr. Hale said she was being moved for specialized neurological treatment.””
Morgan turned to her.
“Did you verify the receiving facility?””
“No. He said he had already arranged it.””
The detective looked at me.
“Your brother has medical authority, but that doesn't give him permission to remove a patient without proper documentation.””
I looked toward the empty bed.
“He's taking her away again.””
Morgan immediately ordered officers to check every hospital exit and contact nearby medical facilities.
Then my phone rang.
Jonathan.
I answered without speaking.
“Marcus,” he said calmly.
His voice was so familiar that, for a moment, I almost forgot what had happened.
“Where is Elena?””
A pause.
“I'm glad you found her.””
My blood ran cold.
“You knew?””
“Marcus, listen carefully. You need to stop asking questions.””
“Where is my wife?””
“She isn't well.””
“You drugged her?””
“She's been unstable for a long time.””
I looked at Detective Morgan.
She silently motioned for me to keep him talking.
“Why was she locked beneath my pool?””
Jonathan sighed.
“Because she refused to cooperate.””
My grip tightened around the phone.
“Cooperate with what?””
“Do you remember the boating accident?””
I swallowed.
“Of course I remember.””
“No, Marcus. You remember what we told you.””
The room seemed to tilt.
“What does that mean?””
Jonathan continued.
“Elena didn't disappear because of an accident. She discovered something about your company. Something that would have destroyed everything.””
“What?””
“Your father left you more than a business.””
I stared at the wall.
“What are you talking about?””
“Ask yourself why he transferred the controlling shares to you instead of me.””
My throat tightened.
“Jonathan…”
“You were always his favorite. Even when you knew nothing about the company, he trusted you with everything.””
“That has nothing to do with Elena.””
“It has everything to do with her.””
I heard a door slam on his end.
Then Jonathan lowered his voice.
“She found the original trust documents. She discovered that someone had been transferring company assets through accounts connected to your signature.””
I felt sick.
“I never authorized anything.””
“I know.””
“Then why?””
“Because the signatures were forged. And Elena found out who did it.””
I closed my eyes.
“Who?””
Jonathan didn't answer immediately.
Then he said something that made my legs weak.
“Vanessa.””
I looked at Detective Morgan.
She was already listening.
“Vanessa worked with you?””
“Of course. She was the financial consultant assigned to the private acquisition accounts.””
My mind raced.
The woman I had invited into my home.
The woman who had kissed my daughter goodnight.
The woman I had nearly given my last name.
“She knew Elena was alive?””
Jonathan laughed bitterly.
“She was the one who found her after the boat disappeared.””
I struggled to breathe.
“Then why didn't you call the police?””
“Because by then, Elena had already made copies of the documents. She threatened to expose us.””
“Us?””
Jonathan went silent.
I finally understood.
“You were involved.””
“Marcus, don't pretend you're innocent. Your company benefited from those transfers. Your name is on the accounts.””
“Because you forged my signature!””
“Can you prove that?””
I stared at the phone.
Then Jonathan spoke again.
“Listen to me. I can make this disappear. I can get Elena treatment.
I can protect you. But you need to come alone.””
Detective Morgan shook her head sharply.
I asked, “Where?””
“Your father's old estate. The lake house.””
I remembered the property.
It had been abandoned for years.
“Why there?””
“Because there's something Elena left behind. Something you need to see.””
“What?””
Jonathan's voice became almost gentle.
“The truth about your daughter's mother.””
The call ended.
For several seconds, I couldn't move.
Then Detective Morgan took the phone from my hand.
“Mr. Hale, you're not going anywhere alone.””
“I know.””
She looked toward the nurse.
“Get me the transfer authorization.””
The nurse hurried away.
I turned toward the empty bed.
On the pillow, beneath the hospital blanket, I noticed something small.
A folded piece of paper.
I picked it up.
My name was written on the outside in Elena's handwriting.
My hands began shaking.
Inside was a photograph.
It showed Elena standing in front of our old lake house, holding a newborn baby.
But Ava had been born six years earlier.
And the baby in the photograph was not Ava.
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On the back, Elena had written one sentence:
*Marcus, if Jonathan finds out about our first child, he'll kill us both.*
