Chapter 8 - A Name They Buried
Firefighters cut through the red door in seven minutes.
To Mark, it felt like an hour.
Evelyn Whitcomb emerged supported by a paramedic, her silver hair stuck to her forehead and a cut above one eyebrow.
She was alive, thinner than he remembered, but her eyes had the same fierce blue light.
"Evelyn," he whispered.
She touched his face.
"You got your father's eyes."
Behind her, officers brought out a man in a work jacket who identified himself as Ray Mercer, a private security contractor for Blue Ridge Water.
Mercer claimed he'd been checking the company's survey equipment.
Ellis pointed to a bolt freshly installed on the inside of the chamber door.
"Then why did you trap her?"
He stopped answering questions.
At the hospital, Evelyn explained she had returned to Briar Glen a week earlier after Beatrice contacted her about the sale.
She had lived under her married name in Ohio since Margarethe accused her of embezzling estate funds.
"Why didn't you tell us the truth?" Mark asked.
"I tried. Letters came back. Your mother controlled the accounts, the mail, everything."
Evelyn pressed her knuckles together.
"I wasn't brave enough to fight her again until Claire found me."
The name cut into him.
"Claire knew where you were?"
"Yes. She asked me to stay away until we had documents strong enough to protect Lily and you. Then she got sick, and I thought we'd lost our chance."
Evelyn reached into her coat and produced a folded photograph of Henry Whitcomb standing beside the town spring with several children.
On the back was his handwriting: WATER IS NOT A FAMILY HEIRLOOM. IT IS A PROMISE.
"Your mother didn't build a fortune," Evelyn said. "She stole a public trust and sold people the right to their own water."
Mark studied the photograph.
Then he noticed a child in the corner, standing close to Henry as if she belonged there.
"Who is that?"
May you like
Evelyn closed her eyes.
"The daughter your father never told you about."
