Chapter 5: The Woman My Mother Wanted to Replace Me
At 8:40 a.m., I received a call from the family court.
The emergency guardianship hearing had been scheduled for noon.
My mother had moved faster than I expected.
James stood beside my desk, reading through the discharge record for the fourth time.
"Eleanor Whitmore," he said.
"I can't find any connection to the family.""
"Search Dr. Whitmore's relatives.""
He typed something into his laptop.
"His wife died years ago. No children listed.""
"Then who is Eleanor?""
"Possibly a relative. I'll need more time.""
I looked at the photograph of Isabella.
Four months earlier, she had been alive.
Four months earlier, she had been somewhere in the country, unable to contact me.
And I had spent every one of those months believing she was buried beneath a marble headstone.
"James.""
He looked up.
"Yes?""
"I want a private investigator.""
"I already have one.""
"Then get another.""
"Dominic—"
"I want every hospital record, every transfer, every payment connected to my mother, Whitmore, and Richard Voss.""
James closed his laptop.
"I'll handle it.""
I turned toward Elise.
She was standing near the nursery door, holding Rosie against her shoulder.
The baby had fallen asleep.
For a moment, I saw Isabella in the way Elise gently rocked her.
The same slow rhythm.
The same soft humming.
"Elise.""
She looked up.
"Yes?""
"Did Isabella ever mention Eleanor Whitmore?""
Her face changed.
It was subtle, but I noticed.
"You know that name.""
She looked toward the stairs.
"Not exactly.""
"Elise.""
She swallowed.
"Isabella mentioned a woman who was supposed to take care of the girls if something happened to her.""
"Who?""
"She called her Aunt Eleanor.""
I frowned.
"My wife never had an Aunt Eleanor.""
"I know.""
"Then why did she call her that?""
Elise lowered her voice.
"Because that's what your mother told her to call the woman.""
I felt my stomach tighten.
"Have you met her?""
"No.""
"Did Isabella?""
"Once. At the hospital.""
"When?""
"The night before she was transferred.""
I walked toward her.
"What did this woman look like?""
Elise closed her eyes, remembering.
"Blonde hair. Maybe in her late fifties. Very elegant. She wore a blue coat and carried a black leather handbag.""
James looked up from his desk.
"That's not enough to identify someone.""
Elise continued.
"She had a small scar near her left eyebrow.""
I turned toward James.
"Find her.""
He was already typing.
My phone rang again.
This time, it was the hospital.
A woman introduced herself as the director of medical records.
"Mr. Caruso, we've received a request for information regarding your wife's hospitalization.""
"From whom?""
"Your mother.""
I exchanged a look with James.
"What did she request?""
"All remaining records related to the patient listed as Evelyn Hart.""
"Why?""
"She claims to be the legal representative.""
I gripped the phone.
"She's not.""
"Then we need documentation proving your authority.""
"Send me the request.""
"Of course.""
I ended the call.
James was already standing.
"She's trying to destroy the records.""
"Can she?""
"Not if the hospital preserves them immediately.""
He called his contact.
I walked to the nursery.
Maisie was awake, lying on her back and staring at the mobile above her crib.
A little wooden duck rotated slowly.
Isabella had bought it during her pregnancy.
I touched the edge of the crib.
"Your mother is coming home," I whispered.
I didn't know if it was true.
But I needed to say it.
Behind me, Elise spoke softly.
"She would be happy to hear you say that.""
I turned.
"Did she talk about me?""
Elise nodded.
"Every day.""
"What did she say?""
"That you were a good man who sometimes forgot to look up from his work.""
I smiled faintly.
"That sounds like her.""
"She said you loved the girls more than anything, even if you didn't know how to show it yet.""
My throat tightened.
"Why didn't she tell me about the trust sooner?""
"She tried. But she was afraid that if she confronted your mother without proof, the girls would become targets.""
I looked at the two tiny faces.
"I should have listened.""
Elise said nothing.
There was nothing she could say.
At 10:15 a.m., James returned with a new photograph.
He placed it on the desk.
"Is this your woman?""
The picture showed a blonde woman leaving a private medical facility.
She wore a blue coat.
A black handbag hung from her arm.
And beside her left eyebrow was a small scar.
Elise took one look and covered her mouth.
"That's her.""
James enlarged the image.
"Her name is Eleanor Whitmore.""
"Who is she?"" I asked.
He turned his laptop toward me.
"She isn't related to Dr. Whitmore.""
"Then why the same surname?""
"Because she married him two months before your father's death.""
I stared at the screen.
James continued.
"She also served as the legal guardian of a patient under the name Evelyn Hart.""
My pulse quickened.
"Isabella?""
"Apparently.""
"Where is she now?""
"That's the strange part.""
He opened another file.
"Eleanor Whitmore currently owns a property in Maine. It's registered to a company connected to Richard Voss.""
I looked at the address.
It was a coastal property, isolated and surrounded by woodland.
"How long has she owned it?""
"Four months.""
The exact month Isabella disappeared.
I looked at James.
"Get a car.""
He nodded.
"Dominic, we need to think carefully. Your mother is expecting you to react emotionally. If we rush in without legal authority, we could lose access to the property.""
I turned toward him.
"Then get the authority.""
He called the district attorney's office.
I called my security director.
And Elise went upstairs to check on the girls.
For the first time, I had a location.
A possible witness.
And a woman who might know what had happened to my wife.
Then my phone vibrated.
A message appeared from an unknown number.
*Stop looking for Isabella. She is not the woman you remember.*
A second message followed.
*Ask Elise what happened the night the babies were born.*
I read it twice.
Then I looked toward the staircase.
Elise was coming down.
Her face was pale.
I held up the phone.
"Elise, what happened the night my daughters were born?""
She stopped halfway down the stairs.
For a long moment, she didn't answer.
Then she slowly came into the room.
"Isabella made me promise something.""
"What?""
"That if you ever found out she was alive, I wouldn't tell you the whole truth until I knew you were safe.""
I stared at her.
"Safe from whom?""
Elise looked toward the nursery.
Then she said something that made the blood drain from my face.
"From your own father.""
I shook my head.
"My father died six years ago.""
"I know.""
"Then explain.""
Elise reached into her pocket and pulled out a folded photograph.
It showed my father standing beside Isabella.
But it wasn't an old photograph.
The date printed in the corner was from the night my daughters were born.
My father was wearing the same gray suit he had been buried in six years earlier.
I stared at the image.
Then I noticed the hospital room number.
The same room where Isabella had recorded the video.
My voice barely worked.
"How is this possible?""
Elise's eyes filled with tears.
"Because, Mr. Caruso, the man you buried six years ago wasn't your father.""
She turned the photograph over.
There was a handwritten message.
*Dominic must never know who was in that coffin.*
May you like
And beneath it was a name.
*Samuel Whitmore.*
