Chapter 3 - THE CLINIC THAT NEVER HAD A MARA RADCLIFFE
Chicago was gray when they arrived.
Not dramatically gray.
Ordinarily gray.
Low clouds.
Wet streets.
A thin February rain that made downtown glass look colorless.
Camille sat in the rear of Roman’s SUV with Nadia beside her.
Roman had objected to Nadia coming.
Nadia had objected to Roman objecting.
Camille had ended the argument by saying:
“She comes.”
Roman said, “Fine.”
Nadia spent the first hour looking pleased with herself.
By the second, even she became quiet.
Serena’s photograph was too difficult to joke around.
Roman sat in front.
He barely spoke.
Camille watched him through the reflection in the window.
People called Roman Vale a mafia boss.
The internet called him worse.
After deciding to travel with him, Camille had searched.
Vale Shipping.
Vale Commercial Holdings.
Hotels.
Freight terminals.
Construction companies.
Charities.
Then articles filled with words like alleged.
Suspected.
Connections.
Federal investigations.
No major convictions.
Plenty of dead associates.
Camille did not romanticize any of it.
Roman was not dangerous because he wore dark suits and spoke quietly.
He was dangerous because power followed him without paperwork.
That mattered.
At the same time, she had watched him accept no from her three times in less than twenty-four hours.
Trevor had spent two years telling her he respected her while planning to marry her before revealing an affair.
Danger did not always announce itself with bodyguards.
Sometimes it wore the tuxedo waiting at your wedding.
The clinic sat near Lincoln Park.
Small.
Private.
Women’s health practice on the fourth floor of a medical building.
Roman’s attorney had already arranged a meeting with Dr. Helen Vasquez, the physician whose initials appeared on the ultrasound.
She was furious.
Not afraid.
Furious.
“Someone stole a protected medical copy from my office.”
Her gaze went from Roman to Camille.
“And now my clinic is being dragged into whatever this is.”
Camille placed the ultrasound inside a clear sleeve on the desk.
“Can you confirm the patient?”
Dr. Vasquez folded her arms.
“I can confirm only with authorization.”
Roman slid a document toward her.
“My sister signed this authorization through counsel three months ago.”
The doctor read.
Her face shifted.
“Serena.”
Roman nodded.
“She told you her name?”
“Eventually.”
Camille leaned forward.
“So M. Radcliffe—”
“Administrative alias.”
“Using Mara Radcliffe’s identity?”
The doctor shook her head.
“Not exactly.”
Camille frowned.
“Mara Radcliffe is one of our former billing coordinators.”
Roman’s expression changed.
“Former?”
“She resigned two weeks ago.”
Camille’s stomach tightened.
“Did she know Serena was here?”
“Yes.”
“Did she help create the alias?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
Dr. Vasquez looked at Roman.
“Serena told us she was fleeing a controlling family member.”
Camille glanced at him.
Roman took it.
No defense.
The doctor continued.
“Mara referred her to me through a domestic-violence network.”
Roman closed his eyes briefly.
That hit him.
Good, Camille thought.
Not because she wanted him hurt.
Because if Serena believed she needed a domestic-violence network to escape him, that deserved examination.
“What did Serena say Roman had done?” Camille asked.
Dr. Vasquez hesitated.
“That is Serena’s story.”
“Fair.”
Camille nodded.
“Did Trevor come here?”
“Yes.”
“When?”
“Three weeks ago.”
Roman’s jaw tightened.
“Why wasn’t I told?”
“Because you are specifically the person we were not supposed to tell.”
Again.
Camille watched the words land.
Roman looked at the doctor.
“You were right.”
That surprised everyone.
Even Dr. Vasquez.
Roman continued.
“Based on what Serena believed, you were right.”
The doctor’s expression softened a fraction.
“What did Trevor do?” Camille asked.
“He brought Serena to her first appointment.”
“Did he claim to be her partner?”
“No.”
“Attorney?”
“Friend.”
“Did Mara attend?”
“Yes.”
There it was.
Camille’s fiancé and his affair partner had sat together in a clinic helping Roman’s sister use a false identity.
Maybe Trevor’s affair and the Serena operation had overlapped completely.
The thought made Camille nauseous.
“Who took the ultrasound?” Roman asked.
Dr. Vasquez opened a folder.
“We reviewed cameras after Mara contacted us.”
“Mara contacted you?” Camille asked.
“When?”
“This morning.”
Roman leaned forward.
“Where is she?”
“I don’t know.”
“What did she say?”
“That Trevor had lied.”
Camille’s heart accelerated.
“About what?”
“Everything.”
The doctor looked at the ultrasound.
“She said he stole Serena’s original copy because it had a clinic tracking number.”
Camille stared.
“What can the number reveal?”
“Internally, appointment logs.”
Roman understood first.
“If he had staff access.”
Dr. Vasquez nodded.
“Mara’s.”
Camille felt sick.
“He used Mara’s login.”
“Yes.”
“To locate Serena?”
“Yes.”
“Then why keep the paper after he already found her?”
The doctor shook her head.
“Mara said it became leverage.”
Exactly what Roman claimed.
Dr. Vasquez slid a security photograph across the desk.
Trevor leaving the clinic.
Ultrasound folded in his coat.
Camille stared at the coat.
Same charcoal wool coat.
Same pocket.
The paper had remained there all the way to the night before their wedding.
“Who is the baby’s father?” Camille asked.
Dr. Vasquez looked toward Roman.
He answered.
“Noah Mercer.”
“DNA?”
Roman’s face hardened.
“Serena says yes.”
“That isn’t what I asked.”
Roman looked at her.
“No. No DNA yet.”
Camille appreciated the honesty.
The clinic’s camera showed someone else arriving after Trevor.
Elliot Crane.
Trevor’s business partner.
Camille leaned close to the screen.
“That’s him.”
Dr. Vasquez nodded.
“He asked for records.”
“Did he get them?”
“No.”
“He threatened staff?”
“No.”
“He said he was Serena’s attorney.”
Roman swore quietly.
Camille remembered Elliot telling her Trevor had disappeared for two days.
Another lie.
“Where is Mara?”
Nadia asked.
For the first time, the doctor looked nervous.
“She left me a voicemail.”
She played it.
Mara’s voice sounded frantic.
“Helen, if Trevor comes back, don’t give him anything. He found Serena. Elliot helped him. I didn’t know what they were doing until last night.”
A breath.
“And if Roman Vale comes…”
Silence.
Camille watched Roman.
Mara continued.
“Tell him Serena was scared of him for a reason.”
Roman’s expression did not change.
“But tell him Trevor made the reason worse.”
Then:
“I’m sorry.”
The voicemail ended.
Camille folded her arms.
“What does that mean?”
Roman stood.
“It means Mara knows where Serena is.”
“How?”
“She helped hide her.”
“You’re assuming.”
“Yes.”
“At least you admit it.”
“Yes.”
Roman’s phone rang.
One of his men.
He listened.
“Where?”
His expression hardened.
“Keep eyes only. Do not approach.”
He ended the call.
Camille waited.
“We found Mara.”
“Where?”
“A motel near O’Hare.”
“Trevor?”
“No.”
“Serena?”
“No.”
Camille stood.
“We go.”
Roman looked at her.
“Mara may be part of this.”
“So am I.”
“She slept with Trevor.”
Camille’s face went cold.
“I’m aware.”
His expression changed.
He had not meant to wound.
Good.
Let him feel it.
Roman said, “You do not owe her anything.”
“No.”
Camille picked up the ultrasound.
“But she owes me some answers.”
Mara Radcliffe opened the motel door with a steak knife in her hand.
Nadia immediately said:
“Oh, perfect.”
Roman’s security raised weapons.
Camille stepped forward.
“Put them down.”
Nobody moved.
She looked at Roman.
He raised one hand.
Weapons lowered.
Mara stared.
Blond.
Thirty perhaps.
Beautiful in the tired, frightened way heartbreak sometimes made people look more human.
Her eyes moved to Camille.
Recognition.
Then shame.
“Oh God.”
Camille’s stomach turned.
“So you know who I am.”
“Yes.”
“Good.”
Mara lowered the knife.
“I’m sorry.”
“Not yet.”
Mara flinched.
Camille held up the ultrasound.
“Start with this.”
Mara looked at Roman.
Fear appeared.
Roman did not move toward her.
“I’m here for Serena.”
Mara’s eyes filled.
“So am I.”
Roman’s jaw tightened.
“Where is she?”
“I don’t know anymore.”
Camille stared.
“What does that mean?”
“Trevor moved her.”
“When?”
“Yesterday.”
“Why?”
“Because Serena found out what he wanted.”
“What?”
Mara looked at Camille.
“Your wedding.”
Camille went still.
Mara started crying.
“Trevor needed you married before Roman caught him.”
“Why?”
“Because once you married him, he planned to move money through your trust.”
Camille’s chest tightened.
Roman had guessed correctly.
But Mara continued.
“That wasn’t all.”
“What else?”
“He planned to take you on your honeymoon.”
“Yes.”
“To Rome.”
Camille stared.
“That was the plan.”
Mara shook her head.
“No.”
“What?”
“He was never taking you to Rome.”
The room became silent.
“He bought tickets under different names.”
“To where?”
Mara whispered:
“Argentina.”
Camille stopped breathing.
“He intended to disappear with you.”
“Why me?”
“Because a married couple attracts less attention than a man traveling alone after stealing from Roman Vale.”
Camille felt physically ill.
“He was going to use me as camouflage.”
“Yes.”
“And my money.”
“Yes.”
“And then what?”
Mara looked away.
“I don’t know.”
That was a lie.
Camille stepped closer.
“What did Trevor plan to do to me once he didn’t need me?”
Mara began crying harder.
“I don’t know.”
“Mara.”
“I swear.”
“Mara.”
She finally looked up.
“He said you’d go home eventually.”
Camille’s stomach twisted.
“Eventually?”
“He said after things cooled down, he would explain.”
Nadia laughed bitterly.
“Apparently that’s his favorite plan.”
Camille felt strangely calm.
Trevor had planned to lie after marriage.
Lie during escape.
Lie after using her money.
Maybe lying was the only future he understood.
Roman asked:
“What did he want from Serena?”
Mara wiped her face.
“Noah’s ledger.”
Roman’s expression hardened.
“She has it?”
“No.”
“Then?”
“Serena knows where it is.”
“Where?”
“She never told Trevor.”
“So he moved her.”
“Yes.”
“Elliot?”
Mara nodded.
“He works for Dominic Kessler.”
Roman went completely still.
Camille saw danger enter the room.
Not theatrically.
Like temperature dropping.
“And Trevor?” Roman asked.
Mara looked toward Camille.
“That depends which day you asked him.”
Camille almost laughed.
Of course.
Mara continued.
“He started helping Serena because he thought Roman was dangerous.”
Roman accepted that.
“Then Elliot showed him what the ledger could be worth.”
“How much?” Nadia asked.
“Millions.”
“From Roman?”
“From Dominic. From police. From anyone named.”
Camille looked at the woman who had slept with her fiancé.
“Why did you help him?”
Mara closed her eyes.
“Because I loved him.”
There it was.
Camille expected rage.
Instead she felt pity.
Not enough to forgive.
Enough to understand.
“And he lied to you too.”
Mara nodded.
“Yes.”
“Did he tell you he loved me?”
A pause.
“He said he needed you.”
That hurt more.
Need.
Not love.
Camille looked away.
Roman spoke quietly.
“We need Serena’s last location.”
Mara reached for her bag.
“I have something better.”
She removed a small key.
“Trevor kept a storage locker.”
“Where?”
“Near Midway.”
“What’s inside?”
“I don’t know.”
“How does that help?”
Mara looked at Camille.
“He kept the wedding rings there.”
Camille frowned.
“The rings?”
“Yes.”
“He told me they were insured and he didn’t trust keeping them at your parents’ house.”
That was true.
Trevor said the jeweler held them until the wedding morning.
Another lie.
Mara continued.
“But last week I saw him put a black memory card inside the ring box.”
Roman’s expression changed.
Noah’s ledger.
Or a copy.
Camille held out her hand.
“Give me the key.”
Roman said, “Camille.”
She turned.
“What?”
“That locker is likely being watched.”
“Then we don’t walk in stupidly.”
Nadia smiled.
“Best sentence today.”
Camille took the key.
The wedding rings she had never worn might contain the evidence everyone was willing to kill for.
May you like
And suddenly the canceled wedding had one last gift left to give her.
A reason Trevor had never expected Camille to look inside the box.
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