Chapter 14 - The Brothers
Rachel arrived before midnight.
Marcus placed the report on the table.
“Tell me.”
She looked at David.
Then Daniel.
Then Marcus.
“I didn’t know for sure.”
“Who is my father?”
Rachel sat.
“David and I were together.”
“That isn’t an answer.”
“No.”
She closed her eyes.
“There was someone else.”
David stared.
“You never told me.”
“I was afraid.”
“Of me?”
“Of Charles.”
Daniel’s pulse jumped.
“Who?”
Rachel looked at Margaret.
Margaret whispered, “No.”
Rachel nodded.
“There was another Carter.”
Silence.
Daniel laughed once.
“Another dead brother?”
Margaret covered her mouth.
David stared at her.
“Mom.”
She began crying.
“Charles had a third son.”
Daniel went still.
“What?”
“Not mine.”
“Whose?”
“Your father’s.”
Daniel’s chest tightened.
Their father had another child.
Half-brother.
Raised outside the family.
Charles knew.
Ruth knew.
Margaret knew.
David whispered, “Name.”
She shook her head.
“I promised.”
Daniel slammed his palm on the table.
“No more promises.”
Margaret flinched.
“Michael.”
Rachel’s face collapsed.
Marcus whispered, “Michael Carter?”
She nodded.
David looked at Rachel.
“You slept with my half-brother.”
“I didn’t know he was your brother.”
Of course.
Nobody knew anybody in this family.
Daniel asked, “Where is Michael?”
Margaret whispered, “Alive.”
Marcus laughed bitterly.
“Great.”
David looked sick.
The paternity report fit.
Marcus belonged to David’s branch genetically because Michael was David’s half-brother.
Close enough to create confusion.
Rachel said, “Michael disappeared before Marcus was born.”
“Why?”
“He found Charles’s trust fraud.”
Daniel closed his eyes.
Pattern again.
Find truth.
Disappear.
Marcus asked, “Did he know about me?”
Rachel did not answer.
That was yes.
Daniel’s phone rang.
The captured gunman had requested a deal.
One condition.
He would speak only to Daniel and David.
They went.
The man smiled through the interview-room glass.
“Brothers.”
Daniel sat.
“Who hired you?”
“Richard Sloan.”
Sloan denied it.
“Who gave Sloan orders?”
The man leaned back.
“Charles.”
David said, “Charles is alive.”
“Yes.”
“Where?”
The man laughed.
“Still wrong.”
Daniel’s jaw tightened.
Then the man slid a small recorder across the table.
“Listen.”
Charles’s voice.
Old.
Distinct.
“David’s line ends before the boy turns eighteen.”
Daniel stared.
The recording continued.
A second voice answered.
Male.
Younger.
“He’s my son.”
Marcus’s father.
Michael.
Then Charles said:
“Then control him.”
Michael replied:
“No.”
A gunshot sounded on the recording.
Then static.
Daniel looked at David.
“Michael confronted Charles.”
The gunman smiled.
“Years ago.”
David asked, “Did Charles kill him?”
The man leaned forward.
“No.”
Then the interview-room door opened.
An older man stood there.
Same Carter eyes.
Different face.
Marcus went white.
The man looked at him.
May you like
“Hello, son.”
CUT.
