Lost Bloodline

Chapter 49:

The lights of the city faded behind him as Detective James drove alone through the night, the hum of the engine drowned beneath the storm in his head. The name Valerie Greene was burned into his memory now, like a brand left by something sharp and deliberate.

She wasn’t on the department’s radar. No criminal record. No prior investigations. Nothing flagged.

And yet, there she was, circled in red ink, right at the bottom of the list, meant to be bait.

Deckhand had died from that list.

Ryan had shot him without hesitation.

And someone, someone powerful had made sure Detective James found her name.

He pulled off the highway and parked under a flickering street lamp. The drizzle had begun again, soft and relentless. His fingers moved quickly across his phone, pulling up encrypted databases, hidden contacts, and secure search channels only detectives with his clearance could access.

He typed the name: Valerie Greene.

Nothing. No age. No photo. No known relatives.

He cursed under his breath.

Then, another idea struck him. Not a police database—civilian archives. University records. Hospital files. Old addresses. Something more personal. Off-grid.

It took fifteen minutes, but he found something.

A birth certificate—was issued twenty-five years ago.

A mother who died during childbirth.

No father is listed.

Then, a more recent entry. A student file—English major, dropped out during her final year, then re-enrolled recently. Her current status is active. Major: Literature and Media Studies. GPA: 3.3. No disciplinary records.

Attached is a scanned ID:

Valerie L. Greene.

Brown eyes. Dark hair. Mid-twenties. Quiet smile.

James stared at the photo.

She looks like she’s seen ghosts, he thought. Or maybe she was one.

Then, the second file hit him harder.

Dependent listed under emergency contact:

Name: Audrey Greene.

Age: 5.

James’s hand froze on the screen.

She had a kid.

Was this why she was on the list? Or was the child the real target?

Before he could process further, a crack of thunder split the sky.

And then, headlights flared in his rearview mirror.

Too close.

He looked up—one black SUV, maybe two.

No plates.

Shit.

He shoved the files into his passenger seat, slammed the car into gear, and peeled out from under the streetlamp.

The SUVs followed instantly.

“Valerie Greene?”

James’s voice was steady, but inside, his nerves coiled tight. The silence on the other end was louder than the wind slapping against his car windows.

“Yes.” Her voice was guarded now. Low. “How did you get this number?”

“I’m not here to hurt you,” James said quickly, glancing at his mirrors—SUVs gone. They’d disappeared like ghosts. “But your name was on a list, Valerie. A list men are dying for. Someone marked you.”

More silence.

Then: “If this is about Jake ... I already told him everything I could.”

James frowned. “Jake?”

But before he could press further, Valerie spoke again, her voice brittle and raw. “Listen... I have a daughter. I don’t know what game you're playing, but I can’t—won’t—put her at risk.”

“I’m not playing.” His voice softened. “But you’re in danger, and I’m trying to protect you.”

There was a long pause.

Then she whispered, “Come to me in the morning. Alone.”

Click.

The line went dead.

James exhaled slowly. His hands trembled, not from fear—but from something deeper.

He didn’t know why, but her voice stirred something. Not recognition exactly, but a pull. Like a string inside him had been gently tugged.

\---

Next Morning – Detective James’s officers Lodge.

The sun had barely risen, filtering pale gold light through the blinds.

James sat at the kitchen table, nursing cold coffee, the list still in front of him.

The name Valerie Greene stared back at him like a puzzle piece that didn’t belong.

Then, a knock.

He opened the door to find Martha, his adoptive mother, standing with a basket of muffins and her usual worried expression.

“Ma?”

“I heard about Captain Deckhand,” she said gently. “Thought you could use some breakfast.”

He let her in. She moved quietly, setting down the basket.

“I’m fine,” he muttered. “Just... buried.”

“You never really come up for air, sweetheart., and how is Tina?"

He gave a hollow laugh. " She is fine but Not in this city.”

He watched her carefully, wondering if now finally was the time to ask the question that had lingered in the back of his mind for years. The one she always avoided.

But now it feels urgent.

“Ma...” he said slowly. “Did I... have any siblings?”

She froze, one hand still on the napkin she was unfolding.

James studied her face—how her smile faltered, how her eyes glazed just slightly before she blinked it away.

“You were adopted, James. You know that.”

“That’s not what I asked.”

She sat down.

Sighed.

Then nodded. “There was... one. A baby girl, and your twin brother ".

James felt the breath leave his lungs.

“She was just a few weeks old when we adopted you. But we were told... she didn’t make it. The agency said there were complications.”

“What was her name?”

His mother closed her eyes. “Valerie.”

He stared at her, stunned. “Valerie Greene?”

She nodded again. “Her biological mother died during childbirth. You two were placed in separate homes—we didn’t even know her last name until recently.”

James’s hands curled into fists. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because we believed she was gone, James. And I couldn’t... I couldn’t bear to give you hope that would lead to nothing.”

He stood abruptly, the chair scraping back.

He couldn’t breathe.

Valerie.

His sister.

The girl on the list.

The one someone wanted dead.

Valerie’s Apartment – hours later

Valerie was awake.

She hadn't really slept in days; she was tired and restless after the call she made earlier in the day.

Now she sat by her baby's old crib, gently rocking it with one hand while the other gripped her phone, the screen still cracked from when it slipped earlier that week at work.

Audrey was fast asleep, curled on her side, her fingers clutched around a soft, worn-out bunny Valerie had sewn herself.

Valerie whispered, “You're safe, baby. I promise.” Her throat tightened. “No one’s taking you away from me.”

There was a knock at the door

Her heart jumped.

She stood, stiffly, her bare feet making no sound as she crossed the small living room.

She peeked through the peephole.

Nothing.

Just the dim hallway outside.

Then—

Another knock.

This time, it was softer. Slower.

She backed away.

Then the hallway light outside her door flickered.

Once.

Twice.

Went out.

She reached for the baseball bat hidden behind the coat rack.

And just as her fingers wrapped around it—

Her phone buzzed.

An unknown number.

She hesitated. Then answered.

“Hello?”

A pause. Breathing.

Then—

“Valerie Greene?”

Her voice caught. “Who is this?”

“I need to speak to you. Right now.”

“Who are you?”

“I’m Detective James. Someone wants you dead.”

Then the phone dropped, she tried calling back, but there was no response.

Valerie’s Apartment – later that same night

There was a knock at Valerie's door again, her heart racing, unaware of what might come through, she had been expecting Detective James, but he didn't show up in the morning,

just then, Valerie opened the door cautiously, the baseball bat still tucked behind her leg.

But when she saw the man standing outside—tall, worn, with dark tired eyes and blood still dried faintly under his nails—she froze.

James.

After the failed morning visit, his mom came to visit him at the officer's Lodge.

He looked at

her, stunned. Not because she was in danger. Not because her name was on the list.

But because for the first time in years—

He was staring at his own blood, " I am Detective James,

he breathed. “I think I’m your brother, and I'm here to save you ".

\-