CHAP 9
The mansion's security alarms sounded at exactly 11:43 p.m.
One sharp tone.
Then another.
Then every light around the estate suddenly switched on.
Floodlights illuminated the front gates.
Motion sensors flashed across the gardens.
Everyone inside jumped.
Detective Sarah Collins was already on her feet.
"Stay inside!"
She pulled her service weapon and rushed toward the front entrance.
Two officers followed close behind.
Outside...
The black SUV was gone.
Only fresh tire tracks remained in the snow.
One officer pointed toward the road.
"They left less than thirty seconds ago."
Sarah frowned.
"They wanted us to know they were here."
Inside the library...
Victoria sat beside Noah.
She hadn't let go of his hand in nearly an hour.
Every few seconds she looked at him, as though she feared he might disappear again.
"I'm not letting anyone take you away."
Noah smiled weakly.
"I don't think anyone's ever said that to me before."
Victoria's eyes filled with tears.
"I should have said it twenty-one years ago."
Meanwhile...
Ethan couldn't stop thinking.
He stared at the surveillance photo of the man with the raven tattoo.
Something bothered him.
"I've seen this face."
Everyone looked at him.
Sarah frowned.
"Where?"
"I don't know."
He rubbed his temples.
"It wasn't yesterday."
"It was months ago."
He closed his eyes.
Trying to remember.
Then suddenly—
"The charity gala."
Harold looked confused.
"What gala?"
"The Whitmore Children's Foundation dinner."
Ethan hurried toward the family computer.
"There were photographers everywhere."
He searched through thousands of archived photographs.
Birthday parties.
Business events.
Charity dinners.
Fundraisers.
Then he stopped.
"There."
He enlarged one picture.
In the background...
Standing beside a column.
Almost hidden behind a group of guests.
Was the same gray-haired man.
The raven tattoo peeked out beneath his shirt cuff.
Sarah stared at the screen.
"He was inside your family's events."
Victoria slowly looked toward Harold.
"Charles invited him."
Harold lowered his head.
"I believe he did."
Sarah immediately contacted the FBI task force handling historical child trafficking cases.
Within an hour...
Agents arrived at the mansion.
One of them introduced himself.
"Special Agent Marcus Reed."
He studied the photograph carefully.
"I've been looking for this man for fifteen years."
Noah frowned.
"You know him?"
Marcus nodded.
"We know his nickname."
He looked directly at Noah.
"They called him..."
"The Collector."
The room became silent.
Marcus continued.
"He specialized in newborn infants."
"He never kept records."
"He erased identities."
"He sold children into illegal adoption rings."
Victoria nearly collapsed.
"My husband worked with him?"
Marcus hesitated.
"We don't know."
"But your husband paid him."
Noah suddenly became pale.
His breathing changed.
He pressed both hands against his head.
"I remember..."
Sarah stepped closer.
"What is it?"
"The basement."
Everyone froze.
"It smelled like bleach."
"There were metal beds."
"Children crying."
His voice shook violently.
"And..."
He looked terrified.
"There was music."
Marcus leaned forward.
"What kind of music?"
"A lullaby."
Victoria's face turned white.
She whispered,
"No..."
Everyone turned toward her.
"That's..."
She couldn't continue.
Ethan stared.
"What?"
Victoria covered her mouth.
"I used to sing that lullaby."
Silence.
Noah slowly nodded.
"I remember hearing it."
Marcus frowned.
"How?"
Victoria looked at him with horror.
"I sang it every night during my pregnancy."
Noah whispered,
"I knew the melody before I knew any words."
The realization sent chills through everyone in the room.
Even after being stolen...
Somewhere deep inside...
Noah had remembered his mother's voice.
Just after midnight...
A forensic officer rushed into the library carrying a sealed evidence bag.
"Detective!"
Sarah looked up.
"What happened?"
"We searched Charles Whitmore's old garage."
"And?"
The officer carefully placed the bag on the table.
Inside...
Was an old cassette tape.
Its handwritten label read:
Maternity Ward – Room 214
Date:
Twenty-one years earlier.
Harold stared at it.
"I've never seen that before."
Marcus looked at the evidence bag.
"If this is what I think it is..."
Sarah nodded.
"We're playing it."
Minutes later...
The tape recorder crackled to life.
Static filled the room.
Then voices.
Doctors.
Nurses.
Machines.
A newborn crying.
Victoria began trembling.
Then...
Charles Whitmore's unmistakable voice echoed through the speakers.
"Take the second baby."
The room froze.
Another man's voice answered.
"It'll cost more than we agreed."
Charles replied coldly.
"I don't care."
"I only need one heir."
Noah closed his eyes.
Victoria broke down completely.
But the tape wasn't finished.
The raven-tattooed man's voice came next.
"What if your wife asks questions?"
Charles answered without hesitation.
"Tell her the child died."
Silence filled the mansion.
No one moved.
No one spoke.
Then...
One final sentence played from the tape.
A sentence that made even the FBI agents stare at each other in disbelief.
The raven-tattooed man laughed quietly and asked,
"And what if the boy comes back one day?"
May you like
Charles Whitmore answered in a voice so calm it was terrifying.
"Then make sure he never reaches adulthood."
