The cemetery was almost empty when we arrived.
A thin mist hung between the graves, turning the rows of headstones into pale shapes beneath the early morning sky. Jennifer sat beside me in the back seat while Daniel waited in another vehicle with two officers.
Miller had insisted on bringing a full team.
Nobody argued.
Not after Elena's warning.
I looked through the windshield toward the old stone chapel at the center of the cemetery. A woman stood beside it wearing a gray coat.
Elena.
Jennifer recognized her immediately.
"That's her."
Miller turned around.
"You stay behind me."
Jennifer nodded.
We stepped out together.
Elena looked older than I remembered from the photographs. Her hair was streaked with gray, and she held herself as though every movement hurt.
When she saw Jennifer, tears filled her eyes.
"You came."
Jennifer stopped several feet away.
"You said you knew who ordered it."
Elena nodded.
"I do."
"Then tell me."
Elena looked at Miller.
"Not here."
Miller's hand moved toward his radio.
"You said you wanted to talk."
"I do."
"Then talk."
Elena swallowed.
"The person who ordered the attack on Jodi wasn't Richard."
My stomach tightened.
"Who?"
She looked directly at me.
"The retired detective who handled Jennifer's disappearance."
Miller went completely still.
For several seconds, nobody spoke.
Then he asked, "You mean Thomas Reed?"
Elena nodded.
Miller stepped away.
I watched his face change.
"Reed was assigned to the case from the beginning."
"Yes."
"He retired four years ago."
"I know."
"Why would he do this?"
Elena looked at Jennifer.
"Because Richard paid him."
Jennifer stared.
"Paid him to do what?"
"To make sure your mother never learned where you were."
Miller's jaw tightened.
"That's not enough."
Elena reached into her coat.
She removed a small notebook.
"He kept records."
Miller took it.
"Where?"
"At his lake house."
"How do you know?"
"Because I delivered the payments."
Jennifer stepped forward.
"You?"
Elena looked ashamed.
"I was working for Richard."
Jennifer's face hardened.
"You lied to me."
"Yes."
"For years."
"Yes."
"Why should I believe you now?"
Elena's eyes filled.
"Because I finally understood what they were going to do to your daughter."
Jennifer stopped.
"What did they plan?"
Elena looked at Hope, who was asleep in my arms.
"They planned to take her."
My arms tightened around the baby.
"When?"
"After you died."
Jennifer went pale.
"They expected you to die?"
"Richard knew you were sick."
"He knew about my condition?"
"Yes."
"How?"
Elena looked away.
"Your medical records."
I felt sick.
"Who had access?"
Elena answered quietly.
"Reed."
Miller closed his eyes.
That single detail connected too many things.
The surveillance.
The motel.
The hidden room.
The financial records.
The warning.
Everything.
Miller called another detective.
"Lock down Reed's records. Nobody accesses the old case files without authorization."
He ended the call.
Then he looked at Elena.
"Where is the notebook from?"
"Richard gave it to me."
"Why?"
"Because he trusted me."
"That ended when?"
"When Jennifer escaped."
Elena looked at Jennifer.
"I couldn't turn you over."
Jennifer's expression softened for only a moment.
"Why?"
"Because you reminded me of my daughter."
The answer hung between them.
Elena had lost her own daughter years earlier.
Jennifer had never known.
"I was supposed to report every location you stayed," Elena continued. "Every job. Every doctor. Every person who helped you."
Jennifer whispered, "But you didn't."
"Not always."
"Enough times."
Elena nodded.
"I know."
I stepped closer.
"Why did you send Hope to me?"
"Because Jennifer asked me."
"When?"
"After she became too sick to move."
Jennifer looked down.
"You were there."
"I was."
"You saw me dying."
Elena nodded.
"I saw you trying to stay alive long enough to make sure your daughter survived."
Her voice broke.
"I couldn't let Richard take Hope."
Miller opened the notebook.
"Where is Reed now?"
Elena looked toward the cemetery gate.
"At his lake house."
"How do you know?"
"Because he called me yesterday."
"Why?"
"He wanted to know whether Jennifer had returned."
Miller looked at me.
"Then we move now."
The lake house was nearly two hours away.
Police vehicles followed us through winding roads.
Jennifer sat beside me.
For most of the drive, she stared out the window.
Then she said, "Mom."
"Yes?"
"If Reed really did this, he knew everything."
"Maybe."
"He knew where I was."
"Maybe."
"He knew about Hope."
"Yes."
She looked at me.
"Then why did he never find me?"
I thought about Elena.
"Because someone kept lying to him."
She nodded.
"Elena."
"Probably."
A little later, Daniel called.
"I found something."
Jennifer took the phone.
"What?"
"I went through the old photographs."
"Which ones?"
"The motel pictures."
He paused.
"Evan wasn't standing with Paul."
"What?"
"He was standing behind him."
Jennifer frowned.
"What's the difference?"
"There was someone else reflected in the window."
I looked at Jennifer.
"Who?"
Daniel's voice lowered.
"Reed."
The call ended.
Nobody spoke.
When we reached the lake house, the front door stood open.
Miller signaled the officers.
They entered.
The house was empty.
Drawers had been pulled open.
A computer had been removed.
The fireplace was still warm.
"He was here," Miller said.
We searched room by room.
Then Jennifer stopped outside a bedroom.
"That's his study."
Miller opened the door.
The room had been cleared.
Almost.
One drawer remained locked.
An officer forced it open.
Inside was a stack of envelopes.
Each had a name.
Richard.
Paul.
Elena.
Jennifer.
Daniel.
Jodi.
I stared at my own name.
Miller opened the envelope.
Inside was a photograph of me holding Jennifer's sixteenth-birthday cake.
On the back:
PRIMARY LEVERAGE.
I felt cold.
Jennifer took my hand.
Another envelope contained medical records.
Mine.
Jennifer's.
Hope's.
All copied.
All annotated.
The dates went back years.
Miller photographed everything.
Then he found a final document.
A payment authorization.
Signed by Richard Vale.
Recipient: Thomas Reed.
Purpose: FINAL SILENCE.
The amount was enormous.
Miller stared at it.
"That's enough."
A sound came from outside.
An engine.
We ran toward the windows.
A black SUV was speeding away.
Miller shouted for the officers.
The chase lasted less than ten minutes.
The SUV crashed into a ditch.
The driver escaped into the trees.
But the passenger door was open.
On the seat was a phone.
Miller picked it up.
There was one unsent message.
To: Jodi.
The message contained only an address.
My address.
Then another line appeared.
WE SHOULD HAVE FINISHED THIS FIVE YEARS AGO.
I looked at Jennifer.
She understood before I did.
"He's coming for Hope."
I held my granddaughter closer.
This time, nobody was going to make me wait.
Click here to continue reading: PART 10: Reed Came for the Baby Before Midnight, but the Evidence He Left Behind Finally Explained Why Jennifer Had Been Hunted
The Baby on My Porch Carried a Message That Turned Five Years of Grief Into a Question I Was Afraid to Answer
Part 9 of 12
