Chapter 17: The Truth Outside the Church

Bastian stood between two officers beneath the church steps, his suit wrinkled and his face pale.

The guests inside had not yet realized anything was wrong.

Thayer moved in front of me.

"This can wait," he said.

"No," Bastian replied. "It can't."

One of the officers held up a sealed evidence bag.

Inside was a phone.

"Mr. Wilson surrendered this device an hour ago," the officer said. "It contains messages relevant to Lydia Wilson's case."

"From whom?" I asked.

Bastian looked at me.

"Gina."

My stomach tightened.

"She contacted you again?"

"Before Lydia attacked your parents' house. She said Lydia had someone inside the Sinclair family."

Thayer's expression sharpened.

"Who?"

"She didn't know. She only had a number and a name used in the messages."

"What name?"

Bastian swallowed.

"J."

Julian appeared in the church doorway behind us.

"That is convenient," he said.

His shoulder was still bandaged from the kidnapping, and anger burned through the exhaustion on his face.

"You think it was me?"

Bastian shook his head.

"I don't know. But Gina said Lydia paid someone close to Thayer for schedules, passwords, and security details."

Thayer took the evidence bag from the officer only after signing the release form.

The phone held a chain of encrypted messages.

Lydia asked for the rehearsal location.

The unknown contact supplied it.

She asked for the church access schedule.

The contact sent photographs.

She asked when Thayer's security detail would rotate.

The contact answered within minutes.

Every message ended with the same initial.

J.

Julian stared at the screen.

"Someone used my account."

"Can you prove that?" Bastian asked.

Julian turned on him.

"You gave Lydia information about Meredith. You do not get to question me."

"I admitted what I did."

"After people nearly died."

The officers separated them before the argument escalated.

I looked at Thayer.

"The wedding can wait."

His jaw tightened.

"You wanted to marry today."

"I still do. But not while your brother is being accused of helping the woman who tried to kill us."

Julian looked away.

Thayer took my hand.

"We postpone for two hours," he said. "No longer unless there is an active threat."

The ceremony was delayed.

Guests were told there was a security issue.

Inside the church office, investigators examined the phone while Julian surrendered every device and account he owned.

The first result came quickly.

The messages had been sent from Julian's old recovery phone.

He had reported it lost eight months earlier.

"Who knew you still used that number for account recovery?" Thayer asked.

"Only family and the clinic."

"Which family?"

Julian hesitated.

"Mother. You. Aunt Celia."

Thayer's face changed at the last name.

Celia Sinclair was their father's younger sister.

She sat on the foundation board, managed several family trusts, and had warmly welcomed me at the luncheon.

"Why would Celia help Lydia?" I asked.

Thayer answered quietly.

"Because my father removed her from the company succession plan when I became chief executive."

The pattern was painfully familiar.

Another relative who believed inheritance had been stolen.

Security found Celia in the church.

She was seated in the second row beside my mother.

When officers approached, she did not resist.

She merely looked at Thayer and said, "You were always too confident."

In the interview room, Celia admitted nothing.

But her phone contained photographs of Julian's recovery device and access codes for Sinclair security.

Bank records connected her to one of Lydia's offshore accounts.

"Why?" Thayer asked.

Celia smiled without warmth.

"Because your father built an empire and handed it to a son who believed morality was a business strategy."

"You helped a woman plant explosives beneath a house."

"I gave her information. Her methods were her own."

"That distinction will not save you."

Celia's gaze moved to me.

"And this is the woman worth destroying two families for?"

"No," I said. "She destroyed them because she thought people were property."

Celia's smile faded.

The officers led her away.

The threat assessment was completed at noon.

No explosives remained at the church.

No active accomplices had access.

The guests were still waiting.

Thayer stood with me in the empty side chapel.

"We can go home," he said.

"Do you want to?"

"I want you safe."

"That was not my question."

He looked toward the closed doors.

"I want to marry you."

"Then let's stop letting other people interrupt us."

A slow smile touched his mouth.

The music began again.

This time, when the church doors opened, no one stopped me.