Chapter 8
The other belonged to a man I recognized immediately.
Major Charles Whitcomb.
Daniel's closest friend.
His former executive officer.
The man who had stood beside him during our divorce.
The man who had delivered the final paperwork to my apartment while I was pregnant and crying.
My pulse accelerated.
“Where is Charles now?”
Daniel looked startled.
“He's retired.”
“Where?”
“He lives in Colorado Springs.”
Rebecca glanced toward the hallway.
“Actually…”
She hesitated.
“What?”
Daniel demanded.
Rebecca swallowed.
“Charles is here.”
A chill moved through the room.
“What do you mean, here?”
I asked.
“He arrived before dinner.
He's in the east drawing room with the other guests.”
I stared at Daniel.
He stared back.
For one strange moment, neither of us spoke.
Then I remembered something.
Eight years earlier, after Daniel filed for divorce, Charles Whitcomb had visited me twice.
Both times, he had urged me to accept the settlement quietly.
Both times, he had warned that pursuing additional financial support could damage Daniel's military career.
And during the second visit, he had said something I had never forgotten.
Some battles aren't worth fighting, Kesha.
At the time, I believed he was simply protecting his friend.
Now I wondered what else he had been protecting.
Margaret reached into the box again.
“There is another envelope.”
She handed it to me.
Across the front, in General Reynolds's handwriting, were three words.
FOR KESHA ONLY.
I stared at the envelope.
My name.
Written by the man who had despised me.
Daniel leaned closer.
“Open it.”
I looked at him.
“Don't give me orders.”
He stepped back.
“Please.”
That single word surprised me more than I wanted to admit.
I broke the seal.
Inside was a handwritten letter.
The paper had yellowed slightly.
The first sentence made my blood run cold.
If Kesha Reynolds ever discovers what happened at the hospital, Charles Whitcomb must never be allowed to explain it first.
I stopped reading.
Daniel noticed.
“What does it say?”
I couldn't answer.
Because the next paragraph contained a confession so disturbing that I had to read it three times.
General Reynolds claimed that he had authorized the suppression of information concerning my children's birth.
But he insisted he had not known the full extent of what Charles had done.
Then came the sentence that changed everything.
“The original medical records may reveal that one of the four infants was subjected to an unauthorized transfer request.”