Chapter 10 - The Man at the Bottom of the Stairs
“I’m trying to keep her alive.”
Marcus tightened one arm around Barbara and pulled her away from the doorway.
Michael stopped.
The pistol remained aimed at his chest.
For one suspended second, nobody understood what Marcus meant.
Then a man’s voice drifted up the stairwell.
“Marcus?”
Jennifer went white.
Barbara knew the voice too.
Thomas Parker.
Marcus lowered his mouth near Barbara’s ear.
“If you want to survive the next five minutes, do exactly what I say.”
Barbara’s heart hammered.
“You brought him here.”
“No.”
“You work for him.”
“I did.”
Footsteps sounded below.
Marcus pushed Barbara behind the heavy wooden door.
“Everyone away from the hall.”
Daniel moved beside Michael.
Robert reached for Margaret’s wheelchair.
Jennifer stood frozen.
“Dad?”
Marcus looked at her.
“If he hears you, he’ll know exactly which room we’re in.”
Her expression changed.
“My father wouldn’t—”
A gunshot tore through the doorframe.
Wood exploded inches from her face.
Jennifer screamed.
Michael grabbed her and pulled her down.
The second shot shattered the wall behind them.
Marcus fired once through the doorway.
Someone downstairs shouted.
Then silence.
Jennifer stared at the splintered wood.
Her father had just fired into a room where she was standing.
Whatever remained of her certainty died on her face.
Marcus looked at Barbara.
“Believe me now?”
Barbara nodded.
“Good.”
He turned toward Robert.
“Back exit?”
Robert pointed.
“End of the corridor. Service stairs.”
Marcus looked at Margaret.
“Can she walk?”
“Barely.”
“I can walk,” Margaret snapped.
Despite everything, Barbara almost smiled.
Marcus crossed to the old woman.
“You have thirty seconds to prove it.”
He helped her stand.
Daniel moved to the window.
“There are two vehicles outside.”
Marcus cursed.
“How many men?”
“At least three.”
Michael looked at him.
“Your people?”
“No.”
“Then whose?”
“Thomas’s.”
Jennifer whispered, “Dad doesn’t have armed men.”
Marcus glanced at her.
“You really are his daughter.”
She flinched.
“Not biologically.”
Marcus stopped.
“What?”
Jennifer gave a hollow laugh.
“Apparently that’s tonight’s theme.”
Another shot struck downstairs.
Marcus shook his head.
“Family revelations later.”
He moved toward the service corridor.
“Go.”
Margaret first.
Richard followed her.
Jennifer.
Michael.
Daniel.
Robert.
Barbara started after them.
Marcus caught her arm.
“You stay with me.”
Michael turned.
“No.”
Marcus raised the gun slightly.
“She stays.”
“She’s my mother.”
Something flashed across Marcus’s face.
“And mine.”
Silence.
Barbara looked between her two sons.
One she had raised.
One she had lost.
Both were ready to fight over which one had the right to protect her.
Barbara pulled her arm from Marcus.
“I am sixty-two years old. Nobody is deciding where I stand anymore.”
Marcus stared.
Michael almost smiled.
Barbara pointed toward the stairs.
“We go together.”
Marcus gave a tiny nod.
“Fine.”
They ran.
---
The service staircase ended behind the old kitchen.
The smell brought another memory back.
Soup.
Bleach.
Wet coats.
Women speaking quietly so frightened children could sleep.
Barbara stopped.
A flash.
Evelyn standing beside a stove.
Pregnant.
Her face bruised.
Barbara touching her cheek.
*Who did this?*
Then another image.
Thomas Parker.
Younger.
Standing in the kitchen doorway.
Barbara gasped.
Marcus caught her.
“What?”
“I remember Thomas.”
“From Mercy House?”
“Yes.”
Robert looked at her.
“When?”
“Before the babies were born.”
Thomas had claimed not to know her.
Diana had behaved as if their connection were a dangerous secret.
But Barbara had seen Thomas here.
Perhaps confronted him here.
The memory slipped away before she could catch more.
Marcus opened the rear door.
Snow-covered woods stretched behind the building.
A shot struck the wall.
“Move!”
They ran.
Margaret struggled.
Richard and Robert supported her between them.
Marcus led them toward a stone maintenance building fifty yards away.
Barbara heard men shouting behind them.
Michael pushed Jennifer forward.
“Go!”
They reached the building.
Daniel forced the rusted door open.
Inside were shelves, broken furniture, old maintenance equipment.
Marcus locked the door.
“We need another exit.”
Robert pointed toward a trapdoor.
“Tunnel.”
Everyone looked at him.
Michael laughed breathlessly.
“Of course there’s a tunnel.”
“Old utility passage. It connects to the chapel basement.”
Marcus opened it.
Darkness below.
Jennifer stared.
“You expect us to climb down there?”
A bullet punched through the exterior door.
Jennifer climbed first.
---
The tunnel smelled of earth and rust.
Michael used his phone flashlight.
They moved single file.
Barbara followed Marcus.
She could not stop staring at him.
Her son.
His shoulders resembled Robert’s only because she had spent decades imagining Robert in every male face she loved.
But now she saw herself.
The shape of his hands.
The slight inward turn of his left foot.
Her father had walked like that.
Marcus glanced back.
“What?”
Barbara realized she had been staring.
“Nothing.”
“Stop looking at me like that.”
“Like what?”
“Like you know me.”
Her chest tightened.
“I’m trying to.”
“You don’t.”
“I know.”
“Thirty-four years late.”
“I know.”
His anger was easier to bear than indifference.
Barbara whispered:
“I’m sorry.”
Marcus stopped.
Everyone behind them nearly collided.
“For what?”
“For every birthday I missed.”
His face hardened.
“You didn’t know.”
“That doesn’t mean I don’t grieve them.”
Something shifted in his eyes.
Then Thomas’s voice echoed faintly from somewhere behind.
“Marcus!”
Marcus immediately turned.
The softness disappeared.
They moved again.
---
The tunnel opened beneath a ruined chapel.
Margaret collapsed into a chair.
Richard checked her pulse.
“We need an ambulance.”
“No signal,” Michael said.
Marcus moved toward a boarded window.
“My vehicle has a satellite phone.”
“Where?” Barbara asked.
“North road.”
Daniel looked suspicious.
“Why park there?”
“Because I expected Thomas to follow me.”
Robert stared.
“You knew.”
“I suspected.”
“And still came?”
Marcus looked at Barbara.
“I needed to see whether she knew.”
“Knew what?” Barbara asked.
Marcus hesitated.
Thomas’s voice came from outside.
“Marcus!”
Closer now.
Marcus closed his eyes.
Barbara approached.
“What did you need to know?”
“Whether you really signed the papers.”
“I didn’t.”
“I know that now.”
“How?”
Marcus looked at Margaret.
“Because she showed me the originals this morning.”
Jennifer stared.
“You attacked Margaret.”
“No.”
Margaret spoke weakly.
“He saved me.”
Everyone turned.
Marcus nodded.
“I arrived while one of Thomas’s men was inside her house.”
“The blood?” Jennifer asked.
“His.”
Marcus touched his coat.
“I got Margaret out through the back.”
Barbara remembered Jennifer finding blood.
“So you brought Margaret here?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“She insisted.”
Margaret managed a weak smile.
“I’ve spent thirty-four years running from this building.”
She looked at Barbara.
“I wanted the truth to end where the lie began.”
Thomas shouted again.
“Marcus, we need to talk!”
Marcus moved toward the door.
Barbara stopped him.
“What are you doing?”
“Ending it.”
“With a gun?”
“If necessary.”
“No.”
“You don’t know him.”
“I know enough.”
“No, you don’t.”
Marcus leaned toward her.
“He raised me.”
The words hurt.
Barbara let them.
“What was he like?”
Marcus looked confused.
“What?”
“As a father.”
“He wasn’t my father.”
“He was the man who raised you.”
Marcus looked away.
Barbara continued.
“Was he kind?”
“Sometimes.”
“Did he hit you?”
Silence.
That was an answer.
“Did he make you afraid?”
“I learned not to be.”
“That wasn’t my question.”
Marcus’s jaw tightened.
“Why do you care?”
“Because I am trying to understand what happened to my child.”
His eyes flashed.
“I’m not a child.”
“No.”
Barbara stepped closer.
“But you were.”
Marcus could not look at her.
“What did he do to you?”
“He taught me to survive.”
“That isn’t the same as love.”
“Neither is switching babies.”
Barbara absorbed the blow.
“No.”
Marcus finally looked at her.
“And you still love Robert.”
Barbara glanced at her husband.
“I don’t know what I feel about Robert.”
Robert lowered his eyes.
“But I know what I feel about you.”
Marcus went still.
“You don’t get to say it.”
“I wasn’t going to.”
That surprised him.
Barbara continued.
“Love is not a word I can demand you accept from a stranger.”
Marcus stared.
“But I will earn the right to say it if you give me enough time.”
His expression nearly broke.
Then someone kicked the chapel door.
Once.
Twice.
The lock splintered.
Marcus raised his gun.
The door opened.
Thomas Parker entered alone.
He was still wearing the expensive charcoal coat from Christmas.
No visible weapon.
His white hair was damp with snow.
He looked around at the assembled faces.
Then smiled.
“What an extraordinary family reunion.”
Jennifer stared at him.
“You shot at me.”
Thomas looked almost offended.
“I shot at the doorway.”
“I was standing behind it.”
“And you moved.”
Jennifer’s face collapsed.
Michael stepped beside her.
Thomas noticed.
“How touching.”
“Where are your men?” Marcus asked.
“Outside.”
“Tell them to leave.”
“No.”
Marcus aimed at him.
Thomas smiled.
“You won’t shoot me.”
“You sure?”
“I know you better than anyone here.”
Barbara saw Marcus’s hand tighten.
Thomas continued.
“I fed you. Educated you. Gave you work. Gave you purpose.”
“You lied about my mother.”
“I protected you from a woman who chose another child.”
Barbara stepped forward.
“I never chose.”
Thomas finally looked at her.
For the first time, his polished confidence cracked.
“You.”
“Yes.”
“You should have stayed out of this.”
“You mean like Christmas?”
Jennifer closed her eyes.
Thomas looked at her.
“You were given one simple instruction.”
Jennifer whispered, “Keep Barbara away from Evan.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
Thomas sighed.
“Because Evan remembers too much.”
Barbara frowned.
“What does Evan remember?”
Thomas looked at Marcus.
“Ask your brother.”
Marcus went rigid.
“My brother?”
Thomas smiled.
Barbara felt dread.
“Evan and Marcus are brothers?”
“Not biologically.”
“Then what?”
Thomas looked almost amused.
“You still think there were only two babies.”
Margaret whispered:
“Thomas, don’t.”
Everyone turned toward her.
Barbara’s heart sank.
“What does he mean?”
Margaret closed her eyes.
Thomas answered.
“Three infants passed through that neonatal room.”
“No,” Richard said.
“Yes.”
“Records show two.”
“Official records.”
Barbara looked at Margaret.
“You knew.”
Margaret began crying.
“The third child had no hospital admission.”
“Whose child?”
Margaret shook her head.
Thomas smiled.
“Evelyn’s.”
Barbara stopped breathing.
Her sister’s baby.
“What happened to him?”
Thomas looked toward Daniel.
Daniel’s face had gone white.
Barbara noticed.
“You know.”
Daniel shook his head.
“No.”
“You do.”
“Barbara—”
“Who was Evelyn’s baby?”
Thomas answered for him.
“Evan.”
Silence.
Barbara stared.
Evan was not Diana’s missing child.
Michael was.
Evan was Evelyn’s.
Her nephew.
“Then why did everyone believe Evan was Diana’s?”
“Because,” Thomas said, “three babies gave Robert exactly what he needed.”
Michael whispered, “Three identities.”
Thomas nodded.
“One child disappeared into my father-in-law’s network. One went home with Barbara. One was hidden with Diana’s sister.”
Barbara felt nauseated.
“Which child went where?”
Thomas looked delighted by the question.
“That is the part Robert never managed to solve completely.”
Marcus raised the pistol.
“I’m Barbara’s biological son.”
“Yes.”
“DNA proved it.”
“Correct.”
“Michael is Daniel and Diana’s.”
“Yes.”
“Then Evan is Evelyn’s.”
“Yes.”
Barbara frowned.
“That solves all three.”
Thomas smiled.
“No.”
Margaret began sobbing.
Barbara looked at her.
“What?”
Margaret whispered:
“Because one of the babies died.”
The room froze.
Michael said, “Which one?”
Margaret covered her face.
“I don’t know.”
Marcus stared.
“That makes no sense. We’re all alive.”
Thomas laughed softly.
“Exactly.”
Barbara felt the next revelation before it came.
“One of them isn’t one of the three babies.”
Thomas looked at her with something almost like admiration.
“There’s the nurse I remember.”
Barbara’s stomach dropped.
“Who?”
Thomas turned toward Michael.
Then Marcus.
Then toward the empty doorway.
A voice came from behind him.
“Me.”
Everyone turned.
A man stepped into the chapel.
Tall.
Dark-haired despite streaks of gray.
Thirty-something.
Barbara recognized him from Michael’s wedding.
Evan Mercer.
He looked directly at Barbara.
Tears filled his eyes.
“Aunt Barbara.”
Barbara stared.
Evan entered slowly.
Thomas moved aside.
Barbara whispered:
“You’re Evelyn’s son.”
Evan shook his head.
“No.”
Margaret began crying harder.
Evan looked at Daniel.
Then at Robert.
Finally at Barbara.
“My name isn’t Evan Mercer.”
He reached into his coat and removed a folded document.
“My mother found me two years ago.”
Barbara’s heart stopped.
“Your mother?”
“Yes.”
“Evelyn?”
Evan nodded.
Barbara grabbed the back of a chair.
“My sister is alive?”
“Yes.”
“Where?”
Evan’s expression changed.
“She’s the reason I came.”
Barbara could barely speak.
“Where is she?”
Evan unfolded the document.
It was not a birth certificate.
It was a recent photograph.
Evelyn.
Older.
Thin.
But unmistakably Barbara’s sister.
Alive.
Barbara touched the image.
“Evelyn.”
“She asked me to bring you this.”
“Why didn’t she come herself?”
Evan looked toward Thomas.
“Because he found her first.”
Barbara raised her eyes.
Thomas’s smile disappeared.
Evan continued.
“She disappeared three days ago.”
Barbara stepped toward Thomas.
“What did you do?”
“Nothing.”
Evan laughed bitterly.
“You’ve been searching for her for thirty years.”
“Because she stole something from me.”
“What?”
Thomas looked at Barbara.
“The only piece of evidence that can put me in prison.”
Barbara stared.
“And where is it?”
Evan pointed at Robert’s metal box.
Michael looked down.
“We searched it.”
“Not all of it.”
Robert frowned.
“What do you mean?”
Evan took the box.
He pressed two hidden catches beneath the lining.
A false bottom lifted.
Inside lay a small reel of microfilm.
Robert stared.
“I never knew.”
Evan handed it to Barbara.
“My mother hid it there the night of your accident.”
Barbara held the tiny reel.
“What’s on it?”
“Records from every illegal adoption Mercer arranged.”
Thomas’s face hardened.
Evan continued.
“Names. Payments. Buyers. Judges. Doctors. Politicians.”
Richard whispered, “My God.”
“And one recording.”
Barbara looked at Evan.
“What recording?”
“The conversation that caused your accident.”
Her heart pounded.
“Between whom?”
“Thomas and Evelyn.”
Thomas moved.
Marcus immediately aimed at him.
“Don’t.”
Thomas stopped.
Evan looked at Barbara.
“My mother recorded him admitting who ordered the car crash.”
Barbara stared at Thomas.
“You tried to kill us.”
Thomas smiled faintly.
“No.”
Evan shook his head.
“He’s telling the truth.”
Barbara looked at him.
“What?”
“Thomas didn’t order the crash.”
“Then who did?”
Evan’s expression filled with pain.
“My mother spent thirty years believing Thomas did.”
“And?”
“She listened to the original recording two years ago after recovering the microfilm.”
Barbara tightened her fingers around the reel.
“Who ordered it?”
Evan looked across the room.
Not at Thomas.
Not at Daniel.
Not at Richard.
At Robert.
Barbara felt her heart stop.
“No.”
Robert went pale.
“Evan.”
“Don’t.”
Barbara looked at her husband.
“Robert?”
Evan’s voice cracked.
“The man who ordered someone to stop Evelyn’s car that night…”
He swallowed.
“…was Robert Wilson.”