Chapter 6 - The Secret Ally
The weeks after the trial were the happiest of my life.
The media circus died down. The death threats stopped. The security team stayed, but they faded into the background, quiet and unobtrusive. I spent my days nesting: painting the nursery soft lavender, folding tiny onesies, building the crib with Luke (who read the instructions three times and still put the side rails on backwards), taking birthing classes with Lauren, who’d decided she wanted to be my labor coach. Grandma came in every night to read to the baby, her voice low and warm, telling her stories about the Hale family, about growing up on the Montana ranch, about how she was going to teach her to ride a horse before she could walk.
I was thirty-two weeks pregnant now. My belly was big and round, the baby kicking nonstop, especially when I drank iced coffee or listened to 90s pop. Dr. Torres said everything was perfect, that the baby was measuring right on time, that she’d be here before we knew it.
We’d named her Vivian Elara Carter. Vivian after Grandma, Elara after the moon, because I’d always loved the stars, because it felt like a name for a girl who was going to shine bright, no matter what.
Everything was perfect. Until the day the letter came.
It was a plain white envelope, no return address, slipped under the penthouse door early one morning. Luke found it when he went to get the paper, bringing it to me in the kitchen, his brow furrowed. “Who do you think this is from?”
I tore it open. Inside was a single sheet of paper, typed, no signature.
They’re not done. Eleanor and Richard have a plan. They’re going to take the baby the second you give birth. They’ve paid off two nurses at Mercy General. They’re going to sneak her out of the hospital, take her to a cabin in Montana. They have fake birth certificates, fake passports. They’re going to disappear. You have three days. Don’t trust anyone inside the penthouse. There’s a mole.
I stared at the letter, my blood running cold. Luke read it over my shoulder, his face going white. “This has to be a joke. A sick prank. We won the trial. The restraining order—”
“Mom doesn’t care about the restraining order,” I said, my voice shaking. “She doesn’t care about anything except getting that baby. And if she’s desperate enough to punch me in the stomach, she’s desperate enough to kidnap her.”
I ran to Grandma’s study, the letter clutched in my hand, Luke right behind me. She was on the phone with Marcus, but she hung up the second she saw my face. “What’s wrong? Is it the baby?”
I handed her the letter. She read it fast, her face getting darker and darker with every line. When she was done, she slammed it down on the desk, her jaw tight.
“Marcus,” she said, dialing his number, putting it on speaker. “We have a problem. Someone slipped a letter under the door. Says Eleanor and Richard are planning to kidnap the baby from the hospital when Natalie gives birth. Paid off two nurses. Have a cabin in Montana. And there’s a mole inside the penthouse.”
Marcus’s voice was tight. “I’ll call the hospital security chief right now. We’ll go through every nurse on the labor and delivery floor, check their bank records, their backgrounds. I’ll put two plainclothes officers on Natalie 24/7 when she checks in. No one gets near her or that baby without ID. As for the mole… who has access to the penthouse? Security, the cleaning staff, the cook, the personal assistants—”
“Margaret,” Lauren said, stepping into the study, her face pale. We all turned. She’d been standing in the doorway, listening. “Grandma’s personal assistant. Margaret. She’s mom’s cousin. The same one who testified at the trial. She’s been working for Grandma for fifteen years. She’s the mole. It has to be her.”
Grandma’s face went white. She sat down hard in her chair, staring at Lauren like she’d been slapped. “Margaret? No. She’s been with me since my husband died. She’s like family. She’d never—”
“Mom paid her fifty grand to lie at the trial,” Lauren said, walking into the room, leaning against the desk. “She’s been leaking information to them for months. That’s how they knew which hospital Natalie was going to. That’s how they knew the nursery was painted lavender. That’s how they got our new address after we moved into the penthouse. Margaret has access to everything. All Grandma’s files, all our schedules, all the security codes. She’s the only one who could have given them all that.”
Grandma looked at Margaret’s desk, across the room, at the stack of papers, the computer, the keys to the penthouse. For a second, I saw something I’d never seen on her face before: doubt. Hurt. Betrayal.
Then her face hardened. She stood up, picking up the phone, dialing Margaret’s extension. “Margaret, come to my study. Now.”
Margaret walked in two minutes later. She was a woman in her fifties, mousy brown hair, glasses perched on her nose, wearing a sensible gray sweater and slacks, her face open and innocent. “You called, Vivian? Is everything okay?”
Grandma didn’t answer. She just pushed the letter across the desk toward her. “Do you know anything about this?”
Margaret picked it up, reading it, her face a mask of shock. “Oh my goodness. No! Vivian, this is terrible! Who would send such a thing? We need to call the police—”
“Cut the crap, Margaret.” Lauren stepped forward, her voice sharp. “We know you’re working for mom. We know you’ve been leaking information to her. We know she paid you to lie at the trial. Did you help her plan the kidnapping too?”
Margaret’s face went pale. She looked from Lauren to Grandma, her eyes darting around the room, like she was looking for an escape. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’ve never done anything to hurt this family. Vivian, you know me—”
“I thought I did.” Grandma’s voice was cold, broken. “Fifteen years, Margaret. I trusted you with my life. With my family’s lives. And you’ve been spying on me for Eleanor this whole time? Why? For money? Is that all it takes to sell us out?”
Margaret’s mask cracked. Her face twisted with anger, with resentment, with years of bitterness she’d hidden behind that mousy smile. “Because you never appreciated me! I worked for you for fifteen years! I put up with your moods, your demands, your stupid rules! And what did I get? A lousy salary, a tiny apartment, no respect! Eleanor promised me two million dollars if I helped her get the trust money. Two million! Enough to quit this job, move to Florida, never have to take orders from anyone ever again! Can you blame me?”
She looked at me, her eyes hard. “That baby doesn’t deserve that money. It’s not even really Hale blood. Eleanor was right—you’re just a stray they picked up off the street. That money should be ours. Hale blood. Real family.”
Grandma stared at her for a long second, her face empty of all emotion. Then she picked up the phone, pressing a button. “Security. Come to my study. Now. And call the police. We have an intruder.”
Margaret’s eyes went wide. She turned to run, but Luke stepped in front of the door, his arms crossed, his face like stone. She froze, staring at him, then back at Grandma. “You can’t do this! I didn’t do anything! It’s all lies—”
“Save it.” Grandma’s voice was ice. “You sold us out. You helped Eleanor plan to kidnap a newborn baby. You’re going to jail. For a very long time.”
The security guards burst in a minute later, grabbing Margaret, dragging her out of the room, screaming, kicking, yelling that she’d sue, that Grandma would regret this, that Eleanor would make us all pay. The door closed behind her. The room was quiet.
Grandma sat back down in her chair, putting her head in her hands, her shoulders shaking. I walked over to her, putting my hand on her back. “I’m so sorry, Grandma. I know you cared about her.”
She looked up at me, her eyes wet with tears. “I did. She was the closest thing I had to a sister after my husband died. And she threw it all away for money. Just like Richard. Just like Eleanor. Is that all anyone cares about anymore? Money?”
I knelt down in front of her, taking her hands in mine. “No. We don’t. Luke doesn’t. Lauren doesn’t. And Vivian Elara won’t. We’re going to raise her to know that family is more important than any amount of money. That love is worth more than all the diamonds in the world.”
Grandma smiled, wiping her tears. “You’re right. You’re absolutely right.”
Marcus called an hour later. “Good news and bad news. Good news: we found the two nurses at Mercy General. Margaret gave us their names when the police questioned her. They’ve been fired, arrested for conspiracy to commit kidnapping. They confessed. They were going to get fifty grand each to sneak the baby out in a laundry cart. Bad news: Richard and Eleanor are gone. They skipped town last night. Their car was found abandoned at the airport. No sign of them. No flight records. The police think they’re driving north. Probably heading for that cabin in Montana Margaret told them about.”
He paused, his voice serious. “They’re desperate, Vivian. They have nothing left to lose. We need to assume they’re still going to try something. I’m moving four more security guards to the penthouse. When Natalie checks into the hospital, we’ll have eight officers on the floor. No one gets in or out without being searched. No exceptions.”
Grandma nodded. “Do it. Whatever it takes. They’re not getting their hands on that baby.”
That night, I lay in bed, my hand on my stomach, feeling Vivian kick, soft and steady. Luke held me from behind, his arm tight around my waist, his breath warm on my neck.
“Scared?” he whispered.
I nodded. “A little. But not as scared as I was before. We have security. We have the police. We have each other. They’re not going to get her. I won’t let them.”
Luke kissed the top of my head. “Damn right. They’ll have to go through me first. And Grandma. And Lauren. And Ms. Lopez. And Marcus. And those eight cops. They don’t stand a chance.”
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I smiled, closing my eyes, letting his warmth wrap around me. He was right. We had an army. And we were fighting for the most important thing in the world.
Three days later, my water broke.
