Chapter 1 - The Missing Scar
The white roses around Raymond Archer’s casket were so perfect they looked artificial.
Nicole Hart stood beside them in a fitted black dress, one hand resting on the shoulder of her six-year-old daughter. Across the viewing room, her husband Gregory spoke quietly with employees from Archer Properties, the family real-estate company Raymond had run for nearly fifteen years.
Everyone looked exhausted.
Everyone except Emma.
Emma looked confused.
She stared into the open casket for nearly a minute before tugging Nicole’s hand.
“Mommy?”
Nicole bent toward her. “What is it, sweetheart?”
Emma pointed at the man surrounded by white satin.
“That isn’t Uncle Raymond.”
Nicole stopped breathing.
A few feet away, Gregory turned.
“What did you say?” Nicole whispered.
Emma seemed surprised by her mother’s expression.
“That isn’t Uncle Raymond.”
Nicole glanced toward the casket.
The funeral home had done remarkable work considering the condition in which the body had supposedly been recovered after the warehouse fire. The face was waxy and slightly swollen, but the dark hair, build, jawline and carefully reconstructed features had been enough for grieving relatives to accept what they had been told.
Enough for nearly everyone.
Emma touched the right side of her own cheek.
“Uncle Raymond has a scar right here.”
Gregory approached slowly.
“How do you know that?”
Emma turned toward her father.
“Because I saw him yesterday.”
Silence seemed to spread through the room.
Nicole felt every muscle in her body stiffen.
Gregory stared at his daughter.
“Where?”
Emma looked back at Nicole.
“In Mommy’s car.”
Nicole’s face drained of color.
Gregory’s eyes moved from Emma to his wife.
For one terrible second, nobody spoke.
Then the funeral director approached from behind.
“Mrs. Hart? Is everything all right?”
Nicole forced air into her lungs.
“She’s six,” she said too quickly. “She’s confused.”
“I’m not confused,” Emma said.
Gregory continued staring at Nicole.
Nicole squeezed Emma’s shoulder.
“That’s enough.”
Emma’s mouth fell open slightly.
She had not expected anger.
She had only told the truth.
Gregory’s expression changed almost imperceptibly.
The grief disappeared.
Something colder took its place.
“Nicole.”
“Not here.”
“You said you hadn’t seen Raymond since Tuesday.”
“I haven’t.”
Emma frowned.
“But—”
Nicole knelt immediately.
“Emma, sweetheart, go sit with Grandma June.”
Her voice sounded gentle.
Her eyes did not.
Emma slowly crossed the room.
Gregory waited until she was several yards away.
Then he leaned closer.
“What did she see?”
“A frightened child sees all kinds of things.”
“She described the scar.”
“She knows Raymond has a scar.”
“She said she saw him yesterday.”
Nicole looked toward the casket.
“Children confuse days.”
“She said he was in your car.”
Nicole finally faced her husband.
For fourteen years, she had known Gregory’s moods.
His irritation.
His ambition.
His charm.
His temper.
But there was something in his eyes now that she had never seen before.
Fear.
Not grief.
Fear.
That frightened her more than anything Emma had said.
Nicole lowered her voice.
“Our daughter is standing ten feet away.”
“That isn’t an answer.”
“Then ask me later.”
Gregory held her gaze.
“I will.”
The service began five minutes later.
Nicole barely heard the minister.
She remembered another voice instead.
Raymond’s voice.
Twenty-one hours earlier.
He had been sitting in the passenger seat of her car, still smelling of smoke and rain.
He had grabbed her wrist before she could reach for her phone.
“Do not call Gregory.”
Nicole had stared at him.
“Everyone thinks you’re dead.”
“For the moment, that may be the only reason I’m still alive.”
She had looked into the rearview mirror.
Emma was supposed to be asleep beneath her pink travel blanket.
Nicole had believed she was.
Apparently, she had been wrong.
At the funeral, Gregory stood beside Nicole as the minister spoke about Raymond’s loyalty, courage and devotion to family.
Nicole glanced at the casket.
She knew the man inside was not her brother.
What she did not know was his name.
And she had promised Raymond she would keep silent for forty-eight hours.
Only twenty-one had passed.
After the service, Gregory disappeared to speak with the funeral director.
Nicole watched him through a narrow glass panel in the hallway door.
She could not hear the conversation.
But she saw the funeral director’s expression change.
Confusion.
Then concern.
Then alarm.
Gregory returned ten minutes later.
“When is the cremation?” Nicole asked casually.
“Tomorrow morning.”
Her stomach tightened.
Raymond had told her one thing before leaving her car.
One instruction above all others.
Do not let them destroy the body.
Nicole touched Gregory’s sleeve.
“I changed my mind.”
“About what?”
“The cremation.”
Gregory’s eyes narrowed.
“I want an independent examination first.”
For the first time since their wedding, Nicole watched her husband fail completely to hide his reaction.
And in that instant she understood something horrifying.
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Gregory did not merely suspect Raymond might be alive.
He was terrified that the man inside the casket might be identified.
