Chapter 3 - LOCKER 417Union Station was crowded enough to hide an assassin.
That was Adrian’s first thought as his SUV stopped beside the canal entrance.
His second was that his mother had known exactly what she was doing.
Crowds.
Cameras.
Public lockers.
If Evelyn had wanted to hide something from people inside the Vale organization, she had chosen one of the few places where Adrian’s own security apparatus could not quietly control every angle.
Victor was waiting beside the entrance.
“Marcus went downstairs seven minutes ago.”
“Alone?”
“As far as we can tell.”
“You let him out of sight?”
“Only when he entered the storage corridor.”
Adrian’s expression hardened.
Victor didn’t defend himself.
Claire climbed out behind Adrian.
He turned immediately.
“You stay in the vehicle.”
“No.”
“This is not a discussion.”
“Then stop speaking like it is.”
Victor stared at the ceiling.
Margaret remained in the SUV and murmured, “I like her.”
Adrian ignored that.
“Claire.”
“Evelyn trusted me with information she didn’t trust you with.”
“That sentence is becoming increasingly irritating.”
“It can irritate you while I walk.”
She moved past him.
For a moment Adrian considered ordering Victor to physically stop her.
Then he imagined the argument.
He followed.
The storage corridor was nearly empty.
Locker 417 sat at the far end.
Its door was open.
Adrian stopped.
Victor swore.
Claire whispered, “No.”
Adrian moved toward it.
Empty.
Not entirely.
A single white lily lay on the bottom shelf.
Claire went still.
“What?”
She pointed.
“Evelyn hated cut lilies unless they were placed in water.”
Adrian looked at the flower.
“A message?”
“Maybe.”
Victor examined the lock.
“Fresh scratches.”
Adrian crouched.
Then he saw something taped beneath the shelf.
A small plastic memory card.
He removed it.
Claire exhaled.
“Looks like Marcus didn’t find everything.”
A gunshot exploded.
Victor hit Adrian before Claire understood what was happening.
They crashed against the lockers.
A second shot tore into the metal where Adrian’s head had been.
People screamed.
Claire dropped behind a concrete pillar.
Victor drew his weapon.
“Shooter upper level!”
Adrian grabbed Claire by the back of her coat and pulled her farther behind cover.
“Stay down.”
Another shot.
Glass shattered.
Then running footsteps.
Victor’s men surged toward the stairwell.
Adrian looked at Claire.
“Are you hit?”
“No.”
“Check.”
“What?”
“Check yourself.”
She looked down.
No blood.
Adrian’s hand was on her shoulder.
His face was inches away.
For the first time she saw something behind the cold authority.
Fear.
Not for himself.
For her.
“I’m fine.”
Adrian stood.
Claire caught his wrist.
“Don’t.”
He looked at her hand.
Then at her.
“The shooter wants you,” she said.
“That makes two of us.”
He pulled free and followed Victor.
By the time they reached the upper concourse, the shooter had vanished.
But Marcus was lying behind a ticket kiosk.
Blood soaked his sleeve.
Adrian stopped.
Marcus looked up.
“You think I did this?”
Adrian approached slowly.
“Did you?”
“I was trying to get the locker open.”
“You had a key.”
“It didn’t work.”
“Why were you here?”
Marcus glanced at Claire.
“To protect the family.”
Adrian laughed once.
A terrible sound.
“Try again.”
Marcus pressed his hand against his bleeding arm.
“Aunt Evelyn called me three weeks before she died.”
Claire’s eyes narrowed.
“What did she say?”
“She told me she had hidden documents.”
“Where?”
“She refused to say.”
Adrian held up the memory card.
Marcus’s eyes changed.
There.
A fraction of recognition.
Adrian saw it.
“What’s on this?”
“I don’t know.”
“You’re lying.”
“I swear.”
Adrian crouched beside him.
“Someone just shot at me.”
Marcus’s voice cracked.
“They shot me too.”
“One bullet grazed your arm.”
“You think I arranged that?”
“I think you’ve been lying for approximately one hour, so my imagination is flexible.”
Sirens approached.
Marcus whispered, “Do not give that card to the police.”
Claire stared at him.
“Why?”
Marcus looked at Adrian.
“Because half the people who can bury what’s on that card were sitting in the cathedral today.”
Adrian’s eyes hardened.
“Who?”
Marcus closed his eyes.
“I don’t know all of them.”
“Names.”
“Not here.”
Victor returned.
“Shooter escaped through the river exit. We have camera teams pulling footage.”
Adrian stood.
“Take Marcus to our doctor.”
Marcus blinked.
“You believe me?”
“No.”
Adrian looked at Victor.
“Search him.”
Marcus’s expression changed.
Victor found the hidden phone forty seconds later.
The last outgoing call had been deleted.
The device was encrypted.
Adrian stared at his cousin.
“You have one opportunity to make me believe you are frightened rather than guilty.”
Marcus swallowed.
“I am both.”
Three hours later, Adrian, Claire, Margaret, Victor, and Marcus sat inside an underground conference room beneath Vale Tower.
No windows.
No personal phones.
No outside network connection.
The memory card rested inside an isolated laptop.
Adrian inserted it himself.
There were seventeen files.
Photographs.
Audio recordings.
Scanned documents.
A video.
The first document opened onto a list of shell companies.
Claire did not understand the names.
Adrian did.
His face changed.
“Those are ours.”
Marcus leaned forward.
“Some.”
“What is this?”
Marcus said nothing.
Adrian scrolled.
Payments.
Millions of dollars.
Transfers from Vale construction subsidiaries into consulting firms.
Then outward.
Police retirement foundations.
Political campaign committees.
Medical suppliers.
Private security firms.
One company appeared repeatedly.
Northstar Clinical Holdings.
Claire recognized it.
“That’s the company that purchased Lakeview Grace.”
Adrian looked at her.
“When?”
“Eight months ago.”
Margaret nodded.
“They said it was an investment partnership.”
Marcus stared at the screen.
Adrian opened another document.
Patient files.
Evelyn Vale.
Medication logs.
Adrian went still.
Claire leaned closer.
“That dosage is wrong.”
“What?”
“Her morphine.”
Margaret moved quickly.
“She was never prescribed that amount.”
Claire scrolled.
Another medication.
Digoxin.
Her face drained.
“She didn’t take this.”
Adrian’s voice became barely audible.
“What does it do?”
Margaret answered carefully.
“It’s used for certain heart conditions. Too much can cause dangerous rhythm changes, nausea, confusion, weakness.”
“My mother had all of those.”
No one spoke.
Adrian looked at Marcus.
“Who controlled her prescriptions?”
Marcus’s face was gray.
“A medical concierge service.”
“Name.”
“Dr. Philip Carrow.”
Claire gasped.
Adrian turned.
“You know him?”
“He was at the funeral.”
Adrian remembered.
Silver hair.
Blue tie.
Front pew.
A man who had hugged Adrian and said Evelyn had been comfortable at the end.
Adrian’s hand tightened.
He opened the audio file.
His mother’s voice filled the room.
Weak.
Breathless.
But unmistakable.
“If you’re hearing this, Adrian, then I failed to tell you while I was alive.”
Adrian stopped breathing.
Claire covered her mouth.
Evelyn continued.
“I need you to understand something before anger makes your decisions for you. Marcus is involved, but Marcus is not the person you should fear most.”
Marcus closed his eyes.
Adrian looked at him.
The recording continued.
“Your father made enemies. You inherited them. But the danger around us now was created by someone we trusted long before your father died.”
A pause.
Evelyn coughed.
“I found money moving through our companies. Money I did not understand. When I asked questions, my medications changed. My memory became unreliable. I began to believe I was losing my mind.”
Claire wiped tears from her cheek.
“Then I met Claire.”
Adrian looked at her.
“Claire noticed that my confusion improved on Fridays, because on Fridays I secretly skipped the pills Marcus insisted I take before leaving the house.”
Marcus whispered, “Jesus.”
Evelyn’s voice continued.
“Claire believed someone was sedating me.”
Adrian looked at Marcus.
“You insisted?”
Marcus stared at the table.
“I delivered the medication.”
“From Carrow?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because he told me she was becoming agitated.”
Adrian’s chair scraped backward.
Marcus flinched.
Evelyn’s recording continued.
“Do not kill Marcus before he tells you the truth.”
Claire almost laughed despite herself.
Adrian froze.
Margaret whispered, “She knew you.”
Even Victor looked away.
“Marcus is weak,” Evelyn said. “Weakness can become cruelty when frightened men are given power. But he was manipulated too.”
Marcus’s eyes filled.
Adrian showed no sympathy.
The recording shifted.
“If my death appears natural, do not believe it until Claire shows you what she found.”
Adrian turned.
Claire stared at the laptop.
“What did you find?” he asked.
Claire’s voice shook.
“I didn’t know she recorded this.”
“What did you find?”
Claire opened her handbag.
Slowly, she removed a folded pharmacy printout.
“I compared Evelyn’s bloodwork from hospice to the medication list your family doctor gave us.”
Adrian took it.
“There were substances in her blood that weren’t on the official list.”
“Which substances?”
“A sedative and digoxin.”
Marcus looked sick.
Adrian turned back to the screen.
Evelyn’s voice softened.
“And Adrian, if Claire is standing beside you when you hear this, try not to frighten her. She frightens badly.”
Claire glared at the laptop.
Margaret smiled through tears.
Adrian almost did.
Almost.
Then Evelyn said the next words.
“They already killed your father once.”
Everyone froze.
Adrian stared at the computer.
Evelyn continued.
“And if you discover who they are, they will try to kill you exactly the same way.”
The recording ended.
Silence.
Adrian looked at Marcus.
“My father was shot.”
Marcus slowly shook his head.
“No.”
Adrian’s eyes narrowed.
“What does that mean?”
Marcus swallowed.
“Your father survived the shooting.”
Adrian stood so abruptly the chair fell backward.
“You have five seconds.”
Marcus stared at him.
“He survived for almost six hours.”
“That’s impossible.”
“The hospital stabilized him.”
Adrian’s face went white.
Marcus whispered, “Then Dr. Carrow entered the room.”
May you like
Claire’s stomach dropped.
“And after that,” Marcus said, “your father died.”
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