Chapter 39: The Time Zone

The empty coffin was a message. *I am not dead. I am not done.*

I shoved the phone into my pocket, the image of the open grave burned into my retinas. The mist on the lake was thickening, swallowing the boat and my sons, but I couldn't follow them. Not without a boat of my own. Not without a plan.

I needed help. And I needed it from someone outside the Vane orbit.

I ran back to my car, my wet dress clinging to my legs like a shroud. I cranked the heater, shivering uncontrollably as I drove away from the botanical gardens.

The old Blackwood site.

I knew where it was. It was the original headquarters of Blackwood & Sons, before the merger. A derelict industrial park on the edge of the river, abandoned since 2002.

Midnight.

I checked the dashboard clock. 6:45 PM. I had five hours.

But first, I needed to make a call.

I pulled into a gas station and parked in the shadows. I took out Mrs. Higgins' phone again. I scrolled through her contacts, looking for anything, anyone who could help.

Most of the numbers were local businesses—the butcher, the pharmacy, the dry cleaner. But there was one international number saved under *Emergency.*

The country code was +64. New Zealand.

I remembered the medical registry I had found earlier. Julian Vane. Doctor. New Zealand.

But Mrs. Higgins said Julian was dead. She said the man in the woods was Gabriel.

So who was on the other end of this number?

I hit dial.

It rang once. Twice. Three times.

"Hello?"

The voice was groggy, sleep-rough. It was a man's voice.

"Who is this?" I asked, my voice tight.

Silence on the line. Then the sound of rustling sheets.

"You're calling Mrs. Higgins' phone," the man said, his tone sharpening. "Where is she?"

"She's... unavailable. My name is Elena. I'm Richard's wife."

A long pause. I could hear him breathing.

"Richard's wife," he repeated, testing the words. "The second one. Or the third?"

"The one who knows about the attic," I said. "And the one who knows about Adam."

The line went dead silent.

"Listen to me," I said, desperation creeping in. "Someone took my children. A man calling himself Julian Vane. But Mrs. Higgins says Julian is dead. She says this man is Gabriel."

"Gabriel," the man on the phone whispered. It sounded like a curse. Or a prayer.

"Who is he?" I demanded. "And who are you?"

"My name is Julian Vane," the man said. "The real one. And if Gabriel has your children... God help you."

"But the grave..." I stammered. "The photo..."

"An empty box," Julian said. "Just like my life."

"Why did you leave?" I asked, tears pricking my eyes. "Why did you let them erase you?"

" because I was the only way to save Catherine," he said. "Eleanor gave me a choice. Leave, and Catherine gets the medical care she needs. Stay, and she goes to a state institution. Permanently."

"She's in a state institution now!" I shouted. "In her own home! Drugged out of her mind!"

"I know," he said, his voice heavy with guilt. "I failed her. But Gabriel... Gabriel won't fail her. He'll burn the world down to get her back."

"He has my sons," I said. "He wants the box from the attic. The evidence."

"Give it to him," Julian said instantly. " Whatever he wants. Give it to him."

"I can't just hand over the only leverage I have against Richard and Eleanor! They'll destroy me."

"Elena," Julian said, his voice hard. "You don't understand. Gabriel isn't just Catherine's ex-lover. He isn't just Adam's father."

"Then who is he?"

"He's the architect," Julian said. "He built the Blackwood fortune. He designed the tax shelters. He created the Trust."

"I thought that was Eleanor."

"Eleanor stole it. Gabriel built it. And he knows where all the bodies are buried because he dug the graves."

I gripped the steering wheel. The man in the woods. The man on the boat. He wasn't a kidnapper. He was the mastermind.

"He wants to meet at the old Blackwood site," I said. "Midnight."

"Don't go alone," Julian warned. "He's desperate. And he's dangerous."

"I don't have anyone else."

"You have me," Julian said. "I'm getting on a plane. But I won't be there in time. You need local help. Call Marcus Thorne."

"Marcus? He's their lawyer! He's helping them annul my marriage!"

"Marcus is a mercenary," Julian said. "He works for the highest bidder. And right now, the Vane accounts are frozen. Eleanor can't pay him."

"And I can?"

"You have the box," Julian said. "That box is worth more than money. It's leverage. Offer him the box. Half of it. The half that implicates Richard but saves Marcus."

"Does such a half exist?"

"Marcus drafted the adoption papers," Julian said. "But he didn't sign the death certificate. That was Richard's masterpiece. Show Marcus the death certificate. Show him he's being set up as the fall guy."

I looked at the documents on the passenger seat. The new death certificate for *Elena Vane.*

"Okay," I said. "I'll call him."

"And Elena?"

"Yes?"

"Tell Gabriel... tell him I'm coming home."

I hung up.

I dialed Marcus Thorne's office. It went to voicemail. I called his cell.

He answered on the first ring.

"Elena. I assume you're calling to surrender?"

"I'm calling to offer you a lifeboat, Marcus," I said. "Before the Vane ship goes down with you on it."

"I'm listening."

"Meet me. Not at the office. Somewhere public."

"The Marina," he said. "Construction site. Trailer 4. Twenty minutes."

"Fine."

I hung up and started the car.

But as I pulled onto the road, my phone buzzed again. Another text.

From *Julian Vane* (Gabriel).

*One more thing. Don't tell Catherine about the boys. Not yet. She thinks they're dead.*

She thinks they're dead.

I thought of Catherine in the garden. *Dreams where he's crying.*

She didn't know Leo and Sam were her sons. She didn't know they were alive.

I looked at the message. Then I looked at the contact info for the New Zealand clinic.

A minute later, a man's voice came on the line.

"Is she alive?"