Chapter 7 - The DNA Revelation
By four o’clock in the morning, the forensic team from the state medical examiner’s office had arrived at the mansion under armed escort.
A kind woman in scrubs with silver hair took a gentle buccal swab from the inside of my cheek, then took a sample from Daniel.
“Stat expediting on the genetic markers, Dr. Bailey,” Daniel said, standing by the library window, a bandage wrapped around his right knuckles. “I need certified court results by nine a.m.”
“With the Vaughn Institute’s automated gene sequencers, Mr. Vaughn, I’ll have a 99.99% probability match in four hours,” Dr. Bailey assured him before leaving the room with the sealed vials.
I was sitting on the leather sofa, wrapped in a thick wool blanket, sipping hot chocolate that Martha had made with tiny marshmallows on top. The fear from the night attack was slowly fading, replaced by an overwhelming urge to help the man who had fought for me.
“Uncle Daniel?” I said softly.
He looked over, the storm in his eyes clearing instantly. He walked over and sat beside me on the sofa. “Yes, Lily?”
“Mama told me a secret,” I whispered, looking around the library as if Brenda might be hiding behind the bookshelves. “Before the bad water took her.”
Daniel froze. Every muscle in his body locked. “What secret, sweetheart?”
“When Richard was screaming at her about the papers, mama took me out to the old barn behind the farmhouse,” I said, remembering the smell of hay and old motor oil. “Under the third wooden board near the grain silo, there’s a rusted metal tin. Mama told me… she said if Richard ever locked me away, the tin had her true voice inside.”
Daniel stared at me, his chest rising rapidly. “Her true voice? A recording?”
“A little plastic tape,” I nodded. “Like the ones Richard plays in his old truck. Mama had a small black machine with two buttons. She was crying when she pushed the red button, Uncle Daniel. She talked into it for a long time. Then she wrapped it in plastic wrap and put it under the board.”
Daniel vaulted to his feet. He looked at Marcus Vance, who was already typing furiously on his tablet.
“Marcus! Get a federal search warrant for the Harper farmhouse immediately!” Daniel ordered.
“On what grounds, Daniel? The trespassing charges from tonight won’t automatically give us warrant access to the entire outbuilding property without probable cause.”
“Probable cause is the recovery of stolen property belonging to Eleanor Vaughn’s estate,” Daniel said, his voice rising with unstoppable momentum. “Lily is the sole heir. That farm was purchased with trust fund stipends. Every square inch of that dirt belongs to Eleanor’s estate!”
Marcus stopped typing. A slow, dangerous smile spread across the lawyer’s face. “You’re right. Richard put the farm deed under Eleanor’s name nine years ago for tax evasion purposes. Legally, Lily owns the farmhouse.”
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“Miller!” Daniel barked into his radio. “Prep the helicopter. We’re going to the Harper farm with two federal marshals. We’re taking back what my sister left behind.”
***
