Chapter 15 - The Man with Peter’s Face
Hannah did not believe Lorraine.
Not at first.
Then she remembered the scar.
Peter had scars when she was young.
A small white line under his chin from a childhood bicycle accident.
The man at St. Vincent had a scarred cheek.
But she had never looked under his chin.
She had recognized his voice.
His nickname for her.
Birdie.
Memories could be learned.
Voices could be imitated.
Faces could change.
Caleb said, “Samuel was buried on the Rowan land.”
Lorraine nodded.
“A body labeled Samuel.”
“DNA?”
“Not yet.”
Maya called Shaw.
The remains were being tested.
Dental identification had matched Samuel’s historical records, but those records could have been altered.
Of course.
Hannah felt nauseated.
“Why would Samuel pretend to be Peter?”
Lorraine answered.
“To get close to you.”
“He had eighteen years.”
“He was hiding.”
“From who?”
“Grant.”
Caleb leaned closer.
“My father wanted Samuel dead?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Samuel stole the Project August accounts.”
Caleb laughed bitterly.
“Everybody stole from everybody.”
Lorraine almost smiled.
“That is a fair summary.”
Hannah refused to let humor soften anything.
“How do you know the man is Samuel?”
“I saw him four years ago.”
“When?”
“At a fundraiser.”
“Did he look like Peter?”
“Almost.”
“Why didn’t you tell Elias?”
Lorraine’s eyes shifted.
“I did.”
Hannah went still.
“What did Elias say?”
“That I was mistaken.”
Caleb looked at Hannah.
That mattered.
A lot.
They left custody and drove straight to Elias’s hospital room.
Empty.
His bed made.
His belongings gone.
A nurse said he had discharged himself an hour earlier against advice.
Hannah called.
No answer.
Again.
Nothing.
Maya whispered, “That is not a good look.”
Caleb said, “Maybe he panicked.”
Hannah stared at the empty bed.
“Everyone panics exactly when evidence appears.”
Shaw issued an alert.
Elias’s car was found in a parking garage.
Inside, a box.
Photographs of Peter.
Photographs of Samuel.
Medical records.
Facial-reconstruction notes.
Hannah sat in the police conference room and compared them.
Samuel Morgan before disappearance.
Peter Pierce before disappearance.
Similar age.
Similar build.
Not similar enough.
Then surgery records.
Jaw reconstruction.
Nasal surgery.
Dental replacement.
Possible.
Horrifying.
Adrian said, “This could explain the false dental match in the grave.”
“If Samuel altered his own dental records to match Peter,” Maya said.
“Or Peter’s to match Samuel.”
Hannah covered her face.
“Which one raised me?”
No one answered.
That was the question now.
Was Peter Pierce truly Peter?
The man she remembered from childhood had been around before the disappearances.
So the father who raised her was Peter.
That was certain.
But the man at St. Vincent?
Maybe not.
Then Shaw received the DNA result.
The buried remains were not Samuel Morgan.
“Who?”
“Peter Pierce.”
Hannah stopped breathing.
The real Peter was in the grave.
Dead around eleven years ago.
Seven years after his staged highway death.
She began shaking.
Caleb held her.
“So the man at St. Vincent was Samuel,” Maya whispered.
Likely.
Hannah cried against Caleb’s chest.
Her father had been alive for seven hidden years.
Then died.
And someone else wore his face.
The grief was new and old at once.
“What killed him?” she asked.
Shaw answered carefully.
“Blunt force trauma to the skull.”
Murder.
Her father had not died in a car accident.
Not the first time.
Not the second.
He had been killed and buried under Rowan land.
Hannah pulled away from Caleb.
“Who put him there?”
Adrian opened the old property access logs.
Only three people had authorization that week.
Grant Rowan.
Lorraine Rowan.
Victor Hale.
Caleb closed his eyes.
His parents again.
Lorraine was questioned.
She denied killing Peter.
Victor denied everything.
Grant remained missing.
Samuel remained missing.
Elias remained missing.
Then a security camera at a private airfield captured two men boarding a small plane.
Elias.
And the man with Peter’s face.
Samuel.
Father and son.
Together.
Hannah stared at the footage.
“Elias knew.”
Caleb’s jaw tightened.
“Yes.”
“He knew Samuel was alive.”
“Yes.”
“He knew the man at St. Vincent wasn’t Peter.”
“Yes.”
“And he let me hug him.”
That was the betrayal that broke her.
Not the chart.
Not the hidden money.
He had watched her believe her father came home.
Caleb reached for her.
She stepped away.
“I need air.”
They walked outside.
Charleston evening was warm.
Normal traffic moved.
People laughed on sidewalks.
The ordinary world felt offensive.
Hannah whispered, “Why would Elias do that?”
Caleb did not answer.
Then her phone rang.
Elias.
She answered immediately.
“You knew.”
Silence.
“You knew!”
“Yes.”
Her voice broke.
“You let me call him Dad.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Where are you?”
“I can’t tell you.”
“Is Samuel with you?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because he has Grant.”
Caleb moved closer.
“What?”
Elias put the phone on speaker.
A second voice.
Samuel.
Older.
Calm.
“Hannah.”
She felt sick.
“Do not call me that like you know me.”
“I do know you.”
“No.”
“You’re my daughter.”
“Biology does not give you permission.”
A pause.
Then Samuel said, “Your father Peter died protecting you.”
Hannah’s throat closed.
“Who killed him?”
“Grant.”
Caleb froze.
“No.”
Samuel continued.
“Grant found Peter at St. Vincent eleven years ago. They fought over the ledger.”
Caleb shook his head.
“My father—”
Hannah lifted a hand.
“Let him speak.”
Samuel said, “Peter refused to surrender the key. Grant struck him.”
“Did he mean to kill him?”
“I don’t know.”
“Were you there?”
“Yes.”
“Why didn’t you call police?”
“Because I was already a fugitive.”
“Then who buried him?”
“Grant and Lorraine.”
Caleb’s face drained.
Lorraine had lied again.
Hannah asked, “Why impersonate Peter?”
Samuel’s voice softened.
“Because you would never meet me otherwise.”
“You were right.”
“I needed your signature.”
“For the trust.”
“Yes.”
“You don’t love me.”
Samuel did not answer.
That was the answer.
“What does Elias want?”
Elias came back on.
“To stop him.”
“But you’re with him.”
“Because Grant has the last archive.”
“Where?”
“On a boat.”
Caleb looked toward the harbor.
“What boat?”
May you like
Elias answered:
“The same one your father supposedly died on eleven years ago.”
