Chapter 6 - THE HOUSE WITH THE RED DOOR
Bailey didn't sleep.
Someone had used her mother's access code fifteen years after Evelyn Carter had died.
That meant either the system had been compromised—
or someone who knew the code was still alive.
By sunrise, Lucas had ordered the old access system sealed.
Bailey hated the word order.
She hated how easily powerful people could close doors she had spent years walking through.
But this time, the locked door protected her.
Howard returned with an address.
“Where is this?”
“A house in Evanston.”
Bailey looked at him.
“Why?”
“It was rented by Meridian's children's foundation.”
“For how long?”
“Sixteen years.”
Lucas studied the document.
“Who lived there?”
Howard shook his head.
“Records are incomplete.”
Bailey looked at the address.
Something about it felt familiar.
Then she remembered.
Her mother had once driven her past a red-fronted house in Evanston.
Bailey had asked why they were there.
Her mother said:
“Just visiting someone who needs us.”
Bailey had been twelve.
She remembered a little girl's laughter.
The house still had a red door.
An elderly woman opened it.
She looked at Lucas.
Then at Bailey.
And went pale.
“Evelyn's daughter.”
Bailey's heart stopped.
“You knew my mother?”
The woman nodded.
“I knew her very well.”
“Who are you?”
“Margaret Holloway.”
Lucas stepped forward.
“Were you involved with Maggie Mercer?”
Margaret's face tightened.
“Come inside.”
The living room was filled with old photographs.
Children.
Volunteers.
Fundraisers.
Then Bailey saw one.
Her mother.
Margaret.
And Maggie.
The little girl was smiling.
Bailey touched the photograph.
“She was here.”
“Yes.”
“For how long?”
“Almost a year.”
Bailey closed her eyes.
“Where is she now?”
Margaret hesitated.
“She left.”
“With my mother?”
“No.”
“With whom?”
Margaret sat down.
“Your mother brought Maggie here because Daniel Mercer was looking for her.”
Bailey listened.
“Your mother believed Daniel would hurt her if he found her.”
Lucas's voice was quiet.
“Why didn't you tell me?”
Margaret looked at him.
“Because Evelyn asked me not to.”
“Why?”
“Because she didn't trust you.”
Lucas flinched.
Bailey noticed.
“Why didn't she trust him?”
Margaret looked at Bailey.
“Because Daniel had convinced Evelyn that Lucas was involved.”
Lucas went still.
“I wasn't.”
“I know that now.”
Bailey frowned.
“Now?”
Margaret nodded.
“Back then, Evelyn wasn't sure.”
Margaret brought out a small box.
Inside was a child's drawing.
A house.
A woman.
A little girl.
And a man standing far away.
The man was crossed out with black crayon.
On the back, in Evelyn's handwriting:
Maggie says this is the man who comes when she dreams.
Bailey stared.
“Daniel?”
Margaret shook her head.
“No.”
Lucas leaned closer.
“Who, then?”
Margaret looked at him.
“Your father.”
Lucas stepped back.
“My father was dead.”
“I know.”
“Then how could she have seen him?”
Margaret's voice softened.
“She hadn't.”
Bailey looked confused.
“She had seen a photograph.”
Margaret pointed to the drawing.
“Maggie thought the man in the photograph was the man who had been following her.”
Lucas stared at the drawing.
His father's face was familiar.
But the connection made no sense.
“My father died eighteen years ago.”
“Yes.”
“Daniel worked with him.”
Margaret nodded.
“They did.”
Bailey suddenly understood.
“Then Daniel wasn't working alone.”
Margaret looked at her.
“No.”
Margaret gave Bailey another object.
A small wooden box.
Inside was a rosary.
Bailey recognized it.
Her mother's.
“She left this here,” Margaret said.
Bailey touched the beads.
“There’s something inside.”
She opened the tiny clasp.
A folded piece of paper was hidden beneath the lining.
Bailey read it.
Lucas is innocent. But he doesn't know what his father built.
Lucas stared.
“What did my father build?”
Margaret looked toward the window.
“A network of private homes.”
“For children?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“To hide them.”
“From whom?”
Margaret's eyes filled.
“From their own families.”
Bailey felt sick.
“Why would families want their children hidden?”
“Some were dangerous.”
“And Maggie?”
“She wasn't hidden because of Daniel's money.”
Margaret looked directly at Bailey.
“She was hidden because she had seen something.”
“What?”
Margaret's answer was almost a whisper.
“She saw Daniel kill a man.”
Lucas went silent.
Bailey's heart pounded.
“Who?”
Margaret looked at him.
“Your father.”
On the drive back to Chicago, neither Bailey nor Lucas spoke.
Finally Bailey said:
“Your father was murdered?”
Lucas stared ahead.
“My family told me he died in a boating accident.”
“Did you ever question it?”
“I was twenty.”
“I’m sorry.”
Lucas gave a bitter smile.
“I spent fifteen years believing my father died because he was careless.”
He looked at Bailey.
“And now I have to wonder if everything I knew was built on a lie.”
Bailey touched the rosary in her pocket.
Then her phone buzzed.
A photograph had been sent.
It showed the red-door house.
Taken from across the street.
Underneath it was one sentence.
You found the wrong house.
Bailey's blood ran cold.
A second photograph arrived.
This one showed her apartment building.
May you like
And beneath it:
The right house is where your mother died.
