Chapter 6 - LOCKER SIXTY-TWODerek survived.
I wore the same navy dress I had worn to Marcus’s memorial.
Not because I had nothing else.
Natalie had offered me clothes.
I wore it because Evelyn had watched me walk away in that dress soaked, humiliated and carrying garbage bags.
I wanted her to see that I had returned standing upright.
Evelyn sat at the head of the table.
Derek sat to her right.
Leonard was beside him.
Gordon Price sat near the attorneys.
The four initials from Marcus’s investigation.
All in one room.
E.V.
D.V.
L.V.
G.P.
Only Marcus’s chair was empty.
Evelyn looked surprised when she saw me.
“You came alone?”
“Yes.”
A lie.
Benjamin was monitoring from a car across the street.
Natalie had one encrypted copy of the drive.
Lena was being treated by a physician Benjamin trusted.
And the federal contact had received a sealed packet with instructions to open it if Benjamin stopped checking in.
I sat down.
One attorney, Mitchell Crane, opened a folder.
“Mrs. Vance, first let me say how sorry we are.”
I looked at him.
“Were you here when my belongings were packed into garbage bags?”
His face tightened.
“No.”
“Then save the sympathy.”
Derek shifted.
“Harper, nobody wants a fight.”
“You threw me out of my home.”
“Mom was upset.”
Evelyn said nothing.
Mitchell pushed papers toward me.
“Your husband’s family would like to provide you with financial security.”
“How generous.”
“The proposed settlement is twenty-five million dollars.”
I looked at the page.
Natalie and I had guessed five.
Twenty-five meant they were scared.
“What do I give up?”
Mitchell hesitated.
“Certain potential claims.”
“Be specific.”
“Any claim against Vance Meridian voting shares, private family trusts, real property, corporate distributions—”
“And?”
“Any claim arising from alleged communications made by your husband during the thirty days before his death.”
There it was.
Marcus.
I looked at Derek.
He was watching me too carefully.
“What communications?”
“We don’t know,” Mitchell said.
“Then why would you mention them?”
“Standard language.”
I almost smiled.
“No, it isn’t.”
Leonard leaned forward.
“You’re not an attorney, Harper.”
“No. But I can read.”
His face darkened.
I continued.
“If Marcus was confused before his death, as Evelyn claims, why pay me twenty-five million dollars to surrender rights based on things he might have said?”
Nobody answered.
Gordon Price tapped his pen.
“Because litigation would harm the company.”
“What kind of litigation?”
“Any kind.”
I leaned back.
“You seem nervous, Gordon.”
He smiled without warmth.
“You seem angry.”
“My husband is dead.”
Derek finally spoke.
“Enough.”
The room went quiet.
He stared at me.
“Marcus wouldn’t want this.”
“What?”
“You treating us like enemies.”
I held his gaze.
“Were you with Marcus the night he died?”
His expression barely changed.
Barely.
“Why?”
“Answer me.”
Evelyn interrupted.
“This meeting is about the estate.”
I kept looking at Derek.
“Were you?”
He folded his hands.
“Yes.”
Every muscle in my body tightened.
“What time?”
“About six.”
“Where?”
“At the office.”
“What did you discuss?”
“Business.”
“What business?”
Derek laughed quietly.
“You don’t get to interrogate me.”
I leaned forward.
“My husband drove off a cliff three hours after meeting with you. I absolutely get to ask.”
Leonard stood.
“That’s enough.”
I looked at him.
“Sit down.”
His face changed.
For years, I had been the quiet wife at Vance dinners.
The middle-class museum curator who married above her station.
I had smiled while they talked over me.
Ignored jokes about my old Honda.
Pretended not to notice when Evelyn corrected my pronunciation of French wines.
They had mistaken manners for weakness.
Leonard sat.
Slowly.
I looked back at Derek.
“What did Marcus tell you?”
His jaw tightened.
“He accused me of stealing.”
The room froze.
Evelyn turned toward him.
“Derek.”
He ignored her.
“There. You wanted the truth.”
“What did you say?”
“I told him he was paranoid.”
“Were you involved in Northstar?”
That did it.
Gordon’s pen stopped.
Leonard stared at me.
Evelyn went completely pale.
Derek said nothing.
I knew.
Not that he was guilty.
But they had not expected me to know that name.
“How do you know about Northstar?” Gordon asked.
I turned to him.
“My husband talked to me.”
“About confidential company matters?”
“Apparently.”
Evelyn’s voice softened.
“Harper.”
I looked at her.
She had changed tactics.
Now she looked like the grieving mother.
“You don’t understand the position Marcus was in.”
“Then explain it.”
“He had been under tremendous pressure.”
“Because someone was stealing eight hundred million dollars?”
Mitchell Crane nearly dropped his pen.
Derek stood.
“Where did you get that number?”
I had them.
Fear had entered the room.
I shrugged.
“Maybe Marcus told me.”
“Did he give you documents?”
“Did he?”
“Harper.”
His voice was no longer friendly.
I looked at the five people around the table.
Every one of them wanted the same answer.
Did I have the drive?
I stood.
“I’m not signing anything today.”
Mitchell said, “The offer may not remain open.”
“Then close it.”
I turned toward the door.
Evelyn spoke behind me.
“Your mother still lives in Oregon, doesn’t she?”
I stopped.
My blood went cold.
No one moved.
Slowly, I turned around.
Evelyn wore the same controlled expression she had worn throughout the meeting.
“My mother?”
“She must be worried about you.”
It was a threat disguised as concern.
I walked back to the table.
Placed both hands on the polished surface.
“If anything happens to my mother, Natalie, Benjamin Shaw, Lena Cho or anyone else I know, certain records will automatically be delivered to federal authorities and six major newspapers.”
Gordon’s face drained.
It was partly a bluff.
The backups existed.
The newspapers did not have them.
Yet.
“You’re threatening us?” Leonard asked.
“No.”
I looked at Evelyn.
“I’m explaining my insurance policy.”
For the first time, I saw real fear in her eyes.
I left.
Benjamin called the moment the elevator doors closed.
“You went off script.”
“They threatened my mother.”
“I heard.”
“Can you get someone near her?”
“Already arranged.”
“Legally?”
“Mostly.”
“Benjamin.”
“She’ll be safe.”
I reached the parking garage.
Natalie was waiting.
“How bad?”
“They know I know about Northstar.”
“That sounds bad.”
“It’s useful.”
“How?”
“Because now they’ll make mistakes.”
My phone buzzed.
A text.
Derek.
We need to talk privately. No Mom. No lawyers.
I showed Natalie.
“No.”
“He met Marcus the night he died.”
“That is precisely why the answer is no.”
Another message.
Marcus was wrong about me. I can prove it.
Then another.
And I know who cut his brakes.
I stared at the screen.
Natalie read it.
“Oh, hell.”
The meeting was arranged for that afternoon at a crowded waterfront restaurant.
Benjamin chose the table.
Natalie sat nearby.
Derek arrived alone.
He looked exhausted.
Not the smug man from the estate.
He sat across from me.
“Do you have Marcus’s drive?”
I said nothing.
He rubbed his face.
“Of course you do.”
“Who killed him?”
Derek looked toward the water.
“I didn’t.”
“That’s not what I asked.”
“I don’t know.”
“You said you knew who cut his brakes.”
“I know who ordered Vance security to take his car into the private garage that afternoon.”
My pulse accelerated.
“Who?”
“Gordon.”
“Why?”
“He claimed there was a recall.”
“Who worked on it?”
“A mechanic named Robert Ellis.”
“Where is he?”
“Gone.”
“Gone where?”
“His house is empty. Phone disconnected.”
I studied Derek.
“Why tell me?”
“Because I’m next.”
I almost laughed.
“You expect sympathy?”
“No.”
He leaned closer.
“I expect intelligence.”
“Then start talking.”
Derek looked me directly in the eyes.
“I did steal money.”
There it was.
“I took twelve million dollars from Northstar.”
I felt disgust.
“Twelve million?”
“I was gambling.”
“Eight hundred million is missing.”
“I know.”
“Where is the rest?”
“I don’t know.”
“You expect me to believe that?”
“I thought I was stealing from them.”
“From whom?”
He swallowed.
“Mother and Leonard.”
The affair.
The shell companies.
Everything collided.
“Why?”
“Because I discovered years ago that Leonard was my biological father.”
Despite knowing it was possible, hearing Derek say it made it real.
“I hated them.”
“So you stole twelve million dollars?”
“I wanted something they cared about.”
“That makes you a thief, not a victim.”
“I know.”
His answer surprised me.
Derek’s eyes became wet.
“Marcus knew too.”
“About Leonard?”
“Yes.”
“What did he say?”
“He told me none of it was my fault.”
I flinched at the phrase.
Derek looked away.
“That made it worse.”
“Why?”
“Because after everything I did to him, he still tried to save me.”
I remembered Derek throwing my clothes into the rain.
“Your version of gratitude needs work.”
His face twisted.
“I was trying to make Mother believe I was on her side.”
“You humiliated me.”
“Yes.”
“You could have warned me.”
“And if she searched your phone?”
I had no answer.
Derek pulled a small envelope from his coat.
Inside was a parking receipt.
Vance Meridian private garage.
The date Marcus died.
Robert Ellis’s employee number.
And a handwritten authorization.
Gordon Price.
“Where did you get this?”
“Marcus gave it to me.”
“Why?”
“He wanted me to choose.”
“Choose what?”
“My inheritance or the truth.”
“And what did you choose?”
Derek looked ashamed.
“I told him I needed time.”
Marcus died three hours later.
Derek whispered, “Now I’ll spend the rest of my life wondering if three hours was all the time he had.”
Before I could respond, his eyes shifted toward the window.
Fear flooded his face.
“Get down.”
Glass exploded.
The bullet struck Derek before I understood what was happening.
He fell across the table.
People screamed.
I dropped to the floor.
Natalie crawled toward us.
Blood spread across Derek’s shirt.
He grabbed my wrist.
“Locker…”
“What?”
“Ferry terminal…”
His breathing turned wet.
“Number… sixty-two.”
“Derek, stay with me.”
He looked at me.
For the first time since I had known him, there was no arrogance in his face.
Only terror.
“They’re cleaning everything.”
Another shot struck the wall.
Derek’s fingers tightened.
May you like
“Don’t let Marcus die guilty.”
Then his hand went limp.
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