Chapter 4 - THE ROOM BEHIND THE BOOKCASE
Vivian did not cry when Adrian showed her the photograph.
She became furious.
“My father never told me.”
“Neither did mine.”
“Vincent would have used this in every negotiation.”
“Unless he thought it would get him killed.”
Vivian stared at Sebastian’s handwriting.
PEACE MEETING CONFIRMED. MARCUS DOES NOT KNOW.
“Why wouldn’t your father tell Marcus?”
Adrian already knew the answer he did not want.
“Because he didn’t trust him.”
The wedding had officially been postponed due to a “security concern.”
Three hundred guests were escorted from Hawthorne Estate in controlled groups.
Vincent DeLuca refused to leave.
He stood inside Adrian’s library with six of his own men outside the door.
Adrian placed the photograph before him.
Vincent went pale.
“Where did you get this?”
“Marcus’s office.”
The older man sat slowly.
Vivian stared at her father.
“You knew Sebastian wanted peace.”
Vincent looked at his daughter.
“Yes.”
“And you let me believe the Cross family murdered Uncle Carlo two years later out of revenge.”
“I believed they did.”
“Why didn’t you tell Adrian?”
Vincent looked toward him.
“Because by the time Sebastian was dead, Marcus was telling everyone I ordered it. Two weeks later, one of my warehouses burned. Three of my men died. You were already at war.”
Adrian’s voice became hard.
“You could have called me.”
“And said what? ‘Your trusted friend is lying, please meet me alone’?”
“Yes.”
Vincent laughed bitterly.
“You were twenty-seven and grieving. You wanted blood.”
Adrian could not deny it.
Vincent continued.
“Sebastian contacted me because he discovered money disappearing from both families.”
Vivian frowned.
“What money?”
“Freight routes. Construction bids. Union payments.”
Adrian leaned forward.
“Who was stealing?”
Vincent looked at him.
“Sebastian thought someone close to both families was engineering attacks to keep us fighting.”
“Marcus?”
“He never named him.”
“Why not?”
“He said he needed proof.”
“And four days later, he was dead.”
Vincent nodded.
Adrian turned away.
For twelve years he had replayed the warehouse story.
Marcus dragging himself through rain.
Marcus collapsing beside Sebastian’s car.
Marcus saying the DeLucas killed him.
Adrian had believed every word.
Grace entered quietly.
“Mr. Cross?”
Adrian looked over.
“What?”
“You asked if I remembered anything unusual about Mr. Hale.”
“Yes.”
“There’s a room downstairs.”
Gabriel straightened.
“What room?”
“Behind the west library bookcase.”
Adrian frowned.
“There’s no room there.”
“There was six years ago.”
She explained.
Marcus finding her.
The steel cabinet.
Photographs.
The doorway covered the next day.
Adrian looked at Gabriel.
“Open it.”
They found the hidden door twenty-three minutes later.
The bookcase had been bolted into the wall.
Behind it was a narrow concrete room.
Grace stood at the entrance.
The smell brought memory rushing back.
Dust.
Old paper.
Machine oil.
Inside, shelves covered two walls.
Most were empty.
One steel cabinet remained.
Locked.
Gabriel tried three keys from Marcus’s cigar box.
The fourth opened it.
Inside were files.
Not financial records.
Photographs.
Cross men meeting DeLuca intermediaries.
DeLuca warehouses before explosions.
Adrian’s father entering the river warehouse on the night he died.
And Grace.
Grace stared at a photograph of herself taken outside a grocery store.
She was holding Lily as a baby.
“What the hell?”
Adrian turned.
There were more.
Grace leaving work.
Grace at a pediatric clinic.
Grace outside church.
Dates spanning three years.
She backed away.
“Why was he following me?”
Gabriel opened another file.
GRACE CARTER.
Underneath were copies of employment records.
Her late husband’s name.
DANIEL CARTER.
Adrian looked at her.
“Your husband?”
Grace’s face closed.
“He died twelve years ago.”
Adrian froze.
“Twelve?”
“Yes.”
“How?”
“Car accident.”
“Where?”
“Chicago.”
“When?”
She looked confused.
“Why?”
Adrian’s voice lowered.
“What date?”
“November fourteenth.”
The same night Sebastian Cross died.
Nobody spoke.
Grace looked from Adrian to Gabriel.
“What?”
Adrian asked, “What did Daniel do?”
“He was an accountant.”
“For who?”
“A logistics company.”
“Name?”
“Hale Freight Consulting.”
Gabriel whispered, “Marcus.”
Grace stared.
“No. Marcus didn’t own it.”
“He did through a shell company.”
Her face drained.
“My husband worked for him?”
Adrian nodded slowly.
Grace gripped a shelf.
“Daniel told me he was auditing shipping accounts.”
“What else?”
“He said he found something dangerous.”
Adrian stepped closer.
“Did he say what?”
Grace’s eyes filled.
“He said if anything happened, I should never believe the first story they told me.”
A terrible silence followed.
“What happened that night?” Adrian asked.
Grace closed her eyes.
“He called me at nine eleven.”
“What did he say?”
“He was scared.”
“Words, Grace.”
She looked at him.
“He said, ‘I found out who’s making them kill each other.’”
Adrian’s blood went cold.
“Then?”
“He said he was going to meet someone who could stop it.”
“Who?”
“He never told me.”
Vincent spoke from behind them.
“Sebastian.”
Everyone turned.
The older DeLuca looked at Daniel’s file.
“Sebastian told me an accountant had proof.”
Grace’s knees weakened.
Adrian caught her arm.
She pulled away.
“My husband was supposed to meet your father?”
“Yes.”
“And both died the same night?”
Adrian said nothing.
Grace’s grief became anger.
“For twelve years I believed Daniel drove drunk.”
“You were told he was intoxicated?”
“The police report said his blood alcohol was triple the limit.”
Gabriel opened another envelope.
Inside was an original toxicology form.
Daniel Carter.
Blood alcohol: 0.00.
Grace stared.
“No.”
Attached was a second report.
Same name.
Same case number.
Blood alcohol: 0.21.
Signed by a private lab.
Payment authorization attached.
MARCUS HALE.
Grace made a broken sound.
“He changed it.”
Adrian’s face became stone.
Marcus had framed the DeLucas for Sebastian’s murder.
He had framed Daniel as a drunk driver.
He had watched Grace raise a daughter alone.
Then hired her into Hawthorne Estate six years later.
Kept her close.
Watched her.
Why?
Gabriel found the answer in the final folder.
A photograph of Daniel Carter holding a small black notebook.
On the back:
LEDGER NEVER RECOVERED.
Adrian looked at Grace.
“Marcus thinks your husband gave you something.”
She shook her head.
“He didn’t.”
“Maybe you didn’t know.”
“I had nothing.”
Grace suddenly stopped.
Daniel’s old things.
Most had been boxed for years.
But one object remained with her.
A battered wooden recipe box.
Daniel had made it in high school.
Grace kept Lily’s crayons inside it now.
She looked at Adrian.
“My kitchen.”
“What?”
“At home.”
Her voice trembled.
“There’s something Daniel made with a false bottom.”
Adrian turned toward Gabriel.
“Get the car.”
Grace grabbed his arm.
“Lily comes with me.”
“Yes.”
“No guards taking her somewhere else.”
“You stay together.”
She nodded.
Before they reached the hallway, Adrian’s phone rang.
Marcus.
Adrian answered.
“Where are you?”
Marcus sounded calm.
“You found the room.”
Adrian stopped.
“How do you know?”
“I know this house better than anyone.”
“Come back.”
“No.”
Adrian looked at Grace.
Marcus continued.
“You found Carter’s file too.”
Grace heard her surname.
Her face tightened.
Adrian’s voice dropped.
“You killed Daniel.”
“I corrected a problem.”
Grace lunged toward the phone.
Adrian held up a hand.
Marcus continued.
“And if Grace Carter has what her husband stole from me, she just became the most dangerous person in your house.”
The line went dead.
Adrian looked at Grace.
“We’re not going to your apartment.”
She stared.
“Why?”
“Because Marcus already knows where you live.”
Then Lily’s scream came from the hallway.
Grace ran.
A guard lay unconscious near the kitchen door.
The room beyond was empty.
Lily was gone.
May you like
On the floor beside Hopper lay a gold-wrapped caramel.
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