Chapter 3 - BREAKFAST WITH THE FROST
Rowan did something Elena did not expect.
He ordered pancakes.
Not for himself.
For Mia.
The kitchen was technically closed, but Rowan Hale asking for pancakes at midnight caused six employees to suddenly remember how to make breakfast.
Elena stood near the private dining-room door.
“We should leave.”
“No,” Rowan said.
“You said you’d get us home safely.”
“I will.”
“Then let us go.”
Rowan looked at Mia, who was now sitting at the corner of the enormous table cutting chocolate cake into pieces too large for any child.
“Your daughter heard people plotting against me.”
“I know.”
“That makes her a witness.”
Elena’s face hardened.
“She is seven.”
“Exactly.”
“What is that supposed to mean?”
“It means I’m not sending her into the street without knowing whether Mercer noticed her.”
Elena stepped closer.
“I don’t want armed men following us.”
“Neither do I.”
That surprised her.
Gideon returned.
“Garage cameras.”
He placed a tablet on the table.
Video showed Declan Mercer leaving the hotel through a private service entrance.
With him were five men Rowan knew.
Two harbor captains.
One accountant.
One family-trust attorney.
And Malcolm Reese, Rowan’s chief medical administrator.
Rowan’s stomach tightened.
“Why is Reese with them?”
Gideon said nothing.
Elena noticed.
“Who is he?”
“My rehabilitation physician’s administrator.”
“Meaning?”
“He controls the medical reports sent to the trust.”
Elena understood.
“They’re going to say you can’t run your businesses.”
“More than that.”
Rowan looked at her.
“My family trust holds voting control over most legitimate Hale companies. If two doctors certify I lack decision-making capacity, a temporary trustee steps in.”
“Mercer?”
“No. My cousin Adrian.”
“Is he part of this?”
“I don’t know.”
Mia raised her hand.
Everyone looked at her.
“What?”
“You said two doctors.”
“Yes.”
“Mr. Mean Man downstairs said, ‘Reese already got the second signature.’”
The room froze.
Elena closed her eyes.
“Mia.”
“What? He did.”
Rowan looked at Gideon.
“Call Dr. Abrams.”
Gideon dialed.
No answer.
Again.
Nothing.
Dr. Samuel Abrams was Rowan’s neurologist.
The only doctor Rowan trusted because Abrams had once told a billionaire patient that money did not change spinal cord biology.
Gideon tried his home line.
Still nothing.
Rowan’s phone rang.
Unknown number.
He answered.
“Mr. Hale?”
A woman’s voice.
“This is Rachel Abrams.”
Rowan’s jaw tightened.
“Where’s Samuel?”
“He’s in the emergency room.”
“What happened?”
“Someone hit his car on Route 1.”
Elena went pale.
“Is he alive?” Rowan asked.
“Yes. Concussion. Broken arm.”
“When?”
“About an hour ago.”
An hour.
Just before the hotel dinner.
Just before the second medical signature supposedly appeared.
Rowan looked at Gideon.
“Get Hale legal counsel here. Outside counsel.”
“Not family counsel?”
“No.”
For years, Rowan had trusted systems built by his father.
Family lawyer.
Family doctor.
Family accountant.
Family men.
Tonight he finally saw the problem with putting the same word before everything.
Gideon left.
Elena touched Mia’s shoulder.
“We have to go.”
Rowan looked at her.
“I can put you somewhere secure.”
“No.”
“You don’t trust me.”
“No.”
Fair.
“What would you trust?”
Elena hesitated.
“My sister lives in Quincy.”
“I can arrange a car.”
“No men inside it except the driver.”
“Fine.”
“No one follows us without telling me.”
Rowan stopped.
Every instinct told him to put protection around them whether Elena agreed or not.
Then he remembered what she had said.
A threat dressed as protection.
“Fine.”
She looked surprised.
“Your phone stays on.”
“That I can do.”
Mia suddenly leaned toward Rowan.
“Are you scared?”
Elena whispered, “Mia.”
Rowan looked at the girl.
Thirty-eight years old.
Shot.
Paralyzed.
Betrayed.
He had spent his entire adult life making sure nobody ever saw fear.
“Yes.”
Gideon looked toward him.
Mia nodded seriously.
“That’s okay.”
“Is it?”
“I get scared before spelling tests.”
Rowan almost laughed.
“I suspect this is slightly different.”
“Fear is fear.”
Elena looked at her daughter.
“Where did you hear that?”
“You.”
Elena clearly did not remember.
Mia climbed down from the chair.
Then walked toward Rowan.
She stopped beside the wheelchair.
This time she looked at it.
Not pity.
Curiosity.
“Does it hurt?”
“My back?”
She nodded.
“Sometimes.”
“Can you move your legs?”
“A little. Not enough to walk.”
“Will you walk again?”
Elena tensed.
Rowan answered honestly.
“I don’t know.”
Mia considered.
Then shrugged.
“Okay.”
That was it.
No tragic face.
No reassurance.
No “you’ll walk again, I know it.”
Just okay.
Something about that felt better than every motivational speech Rowan had endured in sixteen months.
Mia pulled a folded napkin from her pocket.
Inside was the second dinner roll.
She placed it on Rowan’s table.
“For later.”
Rowan looked at it.
“You stole that too?”
“I borrowed it permanently.”
Elena groaned.
Gideon laughed again.
At 1:10 a.m., Elena and Mia left for Quincy in a hotel town car Rowan personally confirmed contained only the driver.
Gideon watched them disappear.
“You like them.”
Rowan looked at him.
“The child is useful.”
“Of course.”
“And the mother heard something important.”
“Certainly.”
Rowan wheeled away.
Gideon followed.
“You’re subtle as a building collapse.”
Rowan ignored him.
At 2:30, outside counsel arrived.
At 3:00, they obtained a copy of the emergency capacity petition Declan’s people intended to file with the family trust at eight.
The medical evaluation was devastating.
Cognitive impairment due to chronic pain medication.
Emotional instability.
Reduced executive capacity.
Poor judgment.
Memory lapses.
Aggressive behavior toward staff.
Rowan read every line.
Some incidents were true.
He had forgotten meetings.
He had taken stronger pain medication after surgery.
He had shouted at staff.
He had once signed a contract without reviewing the final page.
But the conclusion was false.
Still, false conclusions built on true facts were harder to defeat.
The second medical signature belonged to Dr. Leonard Pike.
Rowan had never met him.
His attorney frowned.
“Pike certified you after a telehealth assessment.”
“What telehealth assessment?”
“According to this, November seventh.”
Rowan remembered November seventh.
He had been at a rehabilitation clinic in Vermont.
No video call.
No Pike.
Forged.
Gideon said, “We stop the trust vote.”
“How?”
“Pressure Adrian.”
“No.”
Gideon stared.
Rowan continued.
“If Adrian is involved, pressure tells him we know.”
“And if he isn’t?”
“Then I need him to reveal Mercer.”
The hotel room door opened.
Security entered.
“Mr. Hale, there’s a woman downstairs asking for you.”
“Who?”
“Elena Brooks.”
Rowan’s chest tightened.
“What happened?”
The guard looked uncomfortable.
“She says her apartment was broken into.”
Elena entered two minutes later.
Mia was with her sister in Quincy.
Elena looked furious rather than frightened.
“That was fast.”
Rowan frowned.
“What?”
“I told you where we lived four hours ago.”
“I didn’t send anyone.”
“Then someone followed us.”
“Was anything stolen?”
“Yes.”
“What?”
Elena pulled out her phone.
“Nothing valuable.”
“Then what?”
“My late husband’s work files.”
Rowan stared.
“What did your husband do?”
“Dock electrician.”
“Where?”
“Chelsea Creek.”
The warehouse where Rowan had been shot.
Elena continued.
“He died six weeks before you were attacked.”
Gideon went still.
Rowan asked, “How?”
“Supposed accident. Fell from a loading platform.”
“Name?”
“Daniel Brooks.”
Gideon whispered, “Jesus.”
Rowan looked at him.
“What?”
Gideon knew the name.
Daniel Brooks had been the anonymous safety inspector scheduled to meet Rowan the night Rowan was shot.
The man never arrived.
Rowan had been told Daniel disappeared with company money.
But Elena’s husband had not disappeared.
He had died.
May you like
And someone had broken into Elena’s apartment tonight looking for whatever Daniel left behind.
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