Chapter 5 - THE FALSE HEIRMarcus laughed.
Too loudly.
Too quickly.
“That’s insane.”
Nobody joined him.
Adrian stared at his cousin.
The captured attacker had stopped struggling.
He looked almost relieved.
Like a man who had finally placed a grenade in someone else’s hand.
Victor tightened the restraints around his wrists.
“What’s your name?”
The man smiled.
“Does it matter?”
“It will when I decide which hospital gets to repair your shoulder.”
Claire gave Victor a look.
Victor shrugged.
The attacker finally answered.
“Caleb Dunn.”
Adrian searched his memory.
Nothing.
Marcus whispered, “I don’t know him.”
Caleb looked at him.
“But we know you.”
Marcus’s face drained.
Caleb smiled.
“You were supposed to be easier.”
Adrian stepped between them.
“Explain.”
Caleb looked up.
“You think organizations like yours survive because one man scares everyone?”
“Yes.”
Caleb laughed.
“They survive because bankers process money. Judges sign orders. police officers lose reports. Doctors change records. Accountants create companies. Politicians ignore buildings.”
He leaned back.
“Your father understood that.”
Adrian said nothing.
“Your mother understood it first.”
Claire watched Adrian absorb that.
Everything he believed about Evelyn was being rewritten.
Not erased.
Made larger.
More complicated.
Caleb continued.
“Evelyn Vale created the original Circle to protect workers when your father’s construction company nearly collapsed. She traded favors. Built alliances. Made people loyal.”
“And my father corrupted it.”
“Your father improved it.”
Adrian’s eyes hardened.
Caleb grinned.
“Depends who you ask.”
Victor asked, “Who controls it now?”
Caleb looked toward Marcus.
“He was supposed to.”
Marcus stood.
“I have never agreed to anything.”
Caleb’s smile disappeared.
“You agreed the first time you took their money.”
Adrian turned to Marcus.
“What money?”
Marcus said nothing.
Adrian approached.
“What money?”
“A consulting fund.”
“How much?”
Marcus swallowed.
“Three million.”
Claire closed her eyes.
Adrian’s face went blank.
“Three million dollars.”
“I didn’t know what it was.”
“Stop saying you didn’t know.”
“I thought it was compensation.”
“For what?”
“For keeping your mother calm.”
Silence.
Adrian’s voice became horrifyingly quiet.
“Define calm.”
Marcus’s eyes filled with shame.
“Keeping her from confronting you.”
“You mean lying to me.”
“Yes.”
“Keeping her medicated.”
“I didn’t know the medication was dangerous.”
“You knew she didn’t want it.”
Marcus looked away.
That was enough.
Adrian moved.
Claire stepped between them before he could reach Marcus.
“Adrian.”
“Move.”
“No.”
“Claire.”
“If Marcus is the chosen replacement, killing him is exactly what the Circle wants.”
Adrian stopped.
Marcus stared at her.
“That may be the nicest thing anyone has ever said while discussing my murder.”
Claire ignored him.
She looked at Caleb.
“Why Marcus?”
Caleb smiled.
“Because Marcus wants to be loved.”
Marcus flinched.
“Adrian doesn’t.”
Claire looked toward Adrian.
Caleb continued.
“Adrian wants obedience. Marcus wants approval. Men who want approval are easy to own.”
Adrian almost smiled.
“You may be the first assassin who has ever made a convincing management argument.”
Caleb laughed.
Then his face changed.
He started coughing.
Claire stepped forward.
Blood appeared at the corner of his mouth.
“Something’s wrong.”
Victor grabbed him.
Caleb convulsed.
Margaret shouted, “Get him down!”
They lowered him to the floor.
Claire checked his pulse.
His pupils were widening.
“Poison.”
Adrian looked around.
“How?”
Claire searched Caleb’s mouth.
Then saw the broken capsule caught between his teeth.
“He bit something.”
Caleb’s eyes found Adrian’s.
With his final breath, he whispered one word.
“Black.”
Then he went still.
Judge Warren Black.
The judge lived in a penthouse overlooking Lake Michigan.
He answered Adrian’s call on the second ring.
“Adrian. I was just thinking about Evelyn.”
Adrian stood inside Vale Tower’s dark conference room.
“Were you?”
“Of course.”
“Where are you?”
“At home.”
“Stay there.”
A pause.
“Is something wrong?”
“You tell me.”
Another pause.
Then the judge’s voice changed.
“Adrian, grief can create irrational—”
Adrian hung up.
Claire watched him.
“You’re going there.”
“Yes.”
“And if he confesses?”
“He won’t.”
“If he runs?”
“He won’t.”
“If he tries to kill you?”
Adrian put on his coat.
“Get creative.”
Claire folded her arms.
“You make jokes at strange times.”
“So did my mother.”
The words came naturally.
They both heard it.
For one second grief softened him.
Then Victor entered.
“Judge Black’s security system just went offline.”
Adrian looked up.
“Move.”
The penthouse door was open.
That was wrong.
Adrian entered first despite Victor’s objections.
No guards.
No staff.
A glass of whiskey rested on a table.
Judge Black stood beside the windows looking over the lake.
He did not turn.
“I wondered when Evelyn would finally win.”
Adrian stopped.
Claire stood several feet behind him.
Victor’s men spread through the apartment.
Black sighed.
“She always was more patient than your father.”
Adrian’s voice remained calm.
“You murdered him.”
Black turned.
He was seventy-one.
Elegant.
White-haired.
The kind of man newspapers described as distinguished.
“I allowed him to die.”
Adrian took one step forward.
Claire whispered, “Adrian.”
He stopped.
Barely.
Black looked toward her.
“So you’re Claire.”
“How do you know me?”
“Evelyn talked about you.”
Claire’s stomach tightened.
Black smiled sadly.
“She adored you.”
“You poisoned her.”
His smile disappeared.
“No.”
Adrian stared.
“Carrow did.”
“Yes.”
“On whose orders?”
“Not mine.”
“Whose?”
Black looked at Marcus, who had been brought under guard.
“You truly don’t know?”
Marcus whispered, “Judge…”
Black shook his head.
“Poor boy.”
Adrian’s patience snapped.
He grabbed Black by the lapel.
“Name.”
Black did not resist.
“Your father.”
Adrian froze.
“My father has been dead seventeen years.”
“Yes.”
“Then try again.”
Black’s eyes filled with something close to pity.
“Victor Vale survived that hospital.”
The room changed.
Adrian released him.
“No.”
Black walked toward the bar.
“Your father was declared dead at 2:14 a.m.”
Adrian felt cold spread through his body.
“I saw him.”
“You saw a body.”
“My father’s body.”
“Yes.”
“How?”
“Carrow induced a state that made examination difficult. Your mother refused an autopsy because she believed your father had suffered enough.”
Claire whispered, “Oh my God.”
Adrian’s jaw shook.
“What happened after?”
“Victor was transferred.”
“Where?”
“A private clinic in Wisconsin.”
“For how long?”
Black looked directly at him.
“Eight years.”
Adrian could not breathe.
“My father was alive for eight years?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because he had built something too valuable to kill.”
“The Circle.”
Black nodded.
“What happened eight years later?”
“He disappeared.”
“Disappeared?”
“Carrow believed he died.”
“You believed?”
“No.”
Adrian’s eyes narrowed.
“Why?”
Black walked toward a painting and lifted it from the wall.
Behind it was a safe.
He opened it.
Inside were several photographs.
He handed one to Adrian.
The image showed a man leaving a private jet.
Broad shoulders.
Gray hair.
Walking with a cane.
The photograph was dated three years earlier.
Adrian’s hands began to shake.
Claire saw it.
The man was older.
Heavier.
Scarred.
But unmistakable.
Victor Vale.
Adrian’s father.
Alive.
Three years ago.
Marcus stumbled backward.
“That’s impossible.”
Black laughed bitterly.
“Everything about your family is impossible.”
Adrian stared at the photograph.
“Where was this taken?”
“Montreal.”
“Where is he now?”
“I don’t know.”
“You expect me to believe that?”
Black’s face changed.
“I expect you to understand that your mother discovered the same photograph ten months ago.”
Claire’s eyes widened.
“That’s when she started believing someone was poisoning her.”
Black nodded.
“She found proof Victor was alive.”
Adrian whispered, “And she tried to contact him.”
“Yes.”
“Did she?”
Black looked toward the lake.
“I don’t know.”
A gunshot shattered the window.
Judge Black jerked.
Blood spread across his chest.
Claire screamed.
Victor pulled Adrian down.
More shots erupted from another building.
Black collapsed.
Adrian crawled to him.
“Where is my father?”
Black struggled to breathe.
Adrian grabbed his hand.
“Tell me.”
Black’s eyes focused on him.
“Your mother… found him.”
“Where?”
Black coughed blood.
“Ask Claire…”
Claire stared.
“What?”
Black looked at her.
“She already has the address.”
Then he died.
Everyone turned toward Claire.
She shook her head.
“I don’t.”
Adrian stared at her.
But Margaret suddenly whispered from the doorway.
“Yes, you do.”
Claire turned.
Margaret’s face had gone pale.
“The Christmas card.”
Claire stopped breathing.
Six months earlier, Evelyn had given Claire an unsigned Christmas card and told her never to open it unless something happened.
Claire had forgotten it completely.
Because she had placed it somewhere nobody connected to Evelyn Vale would ever search.
Inside her dead father’s Bible.
At her apartment.
Adrian was already reaching for his coat.
“Where do you live?”
Claire looked at the broken window.
Then at Judge Black’s body.
“Adrian…”
“What?”
“My apartment building doesn’t have security.”
His expression changed.
May you like
Claire’s voice broke.
“My little sister is there.”
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