Chapter 6 - THE BROTHER WHO BLAMED EVERYONE
Daniel looked smaller in custody. Not physically. He was still broad-shouldered,
still expensively dressed, still wearing the silver watch our father had given him
on his fortieth birthday.
But the charm was gone. Without it, he looked tired. Cornered. Old. Detective Torres
allowed me to observe through the glass while Daniel spoke with his attorney
present.
He blamed Patricia first. Then Hector. Then our father. Then fear. It was almost
impressive how quickly a man could build a ladder out of other people when he was
trying to climb out of a hole.
“I never wanted Marianne dead,” Daniel said. Torres did not react. “You restrained
her while Dr. Lozano injected her.” “I thought it was a sedative.” “You watched her
lose consciousness.”
“I panicked.” “You helped move her to Saint Gabriel.” Daniel looked away. “I was
trying to control the situation.” “You signed a false family authorization.”
“Patricia said the doctor knew what he was doing.” Torres leaned forward. “And the
funeral?” Daniel’s jaw tightened. “I wasn’t there.” “No. You left town.”
“I thought Marianne was dead.” “You believed that?” “Yes.” “Then why did you
transfer two million dollars to an offshore account six hours before the funeral?”
Daniel stopped talking. The room changed. Torres had him. She slid a document across
the table. “You were preparing to run.” Daniel’s attorney whispered to him.
Finally Daniel said, “I knew Patricia was unstable.” “Where is she?” “I don’t know.”
“Who else was involved?” Daniel stared at the table. Then he said something
unexpected.
“My mother.” I nearly entered the room. Torres remained calm. “What did Eleanor do?”
Daniel looked toward the mirrored glass. He knew I was behind it.
“She knew about Dad’s money. She knew about the clinic. She covered for it for
years.” “That is not the same as attempted murder.” “She was at Saint Gabriel the
night Marianne was brought in.”
My stomach dropped. Torres asked him to explain. Daniel said Eleanor had arrived
after Patricia called her. She argued with Patricia and Hector. She wanted Marianne
taken to a real hospital.
That contradicted the story my mother had told. Then Daniel added, “Mom was not the
woman Marianne heard.” I stopped breathing. “Who was?” Torres asked.
Daniel swallowed. “My wife’s mother.” Patricia’s mother, Celeste Navarro, had
supposedly moved to Madrid six years earlier. I had met her only twice. A severe
woman with polished manners and a habit of studying people without speaking.
Torres frowned. “Celeste Navarro is in Spain.” “No,” Daniel said. “She came back
three months ago.” “Why?” “Because Marianne found the old records.” “What does
Celeste have to do with them?”
Daniel looked toward the glass again. “She worked at Santa Amalia Maternity Home.”
The room went silent. My mind raced backward. Rose. Eleanor. Dr. Ernesto Lozano.
The stolen babies. The shell companies. Patricia had not stumbled into an old
criminal network. She had been born near its center. Daniel continued. “Celeste kept
the books for Lozano. She knows where everything went. Money, names, babies, all of
it.”
Torres asked where she was now. Daniel shook his head. “I don’t know.” “Where is
Patricia?” “I told you.” “You expect us to believe Patricia disappeared without
telling you?”
“She stopped trusting me.” “Why?” Daniel laughed bitterly. “Because she thought I
was going to confess.” He was. The night Marianne was drugged, Daniel panicked after
seeing how slowly she was breathing. He wanted to call emergency services. Patricia
refused.
Hector told him Marianne would wake. Then Celeste arrived. According to Daniel,
Celeste said that if Marianne woke and released the files, more than one family
would fall.
Not just ours. Judges. Doctors. Business owners. Politicians. People who had paid
for illegal adoptions decades earlier, and descendants who had built fortunes from
money laundered through the network.
“Celeste told Hector to certify Marianne dead,” Daniel said. Torres stared at him.
“And you went along with it.” Daniel’s eyes filled with tears. “I was afraid.”
I almost laughed. Fear again. The excuse everyone used after choosing themselves
over Marianne. Detective Torres ended the interview after Daniel agreed to
cooperate.
Outside, I called my mother. She did not answer. I called Laura. No answer. Then
Sophia called me. “Dad, Grandma is gone.” “What?” “She left the hospital.”
“When?” “Twenty minutes ago.” “Did she say where she was going?” “No. She left a
note.” My pulse accelerated. “What does it say?” Sophia read it. Alexander, there is
one thing I did not tell you. If Patricia finds Rose before the police do, Rose is
in danger. I know where Patricia may go. I have to fix this.
I closed my eyes. “Where is Rose?” “She went downstairs for coffee.” “Find her.” A
pause. Then Sophia’s breathing changed. “Dad.” “What?” “Her chair is empty.”
“Call security.” “I already am.” I ran toward the elevator. My phone buzzed with a
message from an unknown number. A photograph loaded. Rose sat in the back seat of a
car, eyes wide with fear.
Beside her was my mother. The caption contained only six words. BRING THE BLUEBIRD
FILE OR BOTH DISAPPEAR. I stared at the image. Behind Rose’s head, reflected faintly
May you like
in the car window, was a woman wearing dark glasses.
Patricia.
