Chapter 3 - THE GHOST IN THE WALL
Gabriel did not touch anything else in the steel box.
Every instinct he possessed told him to tear through the papers.
Another instinct—the one that had kept him alive when angry men made careless decisions—told him not to contaminate the only evidence he had.
“Everybody out.”
Hannah immediately took Lucy’s hand.
Lucy resisted.
“But—”
“Lucy.”
Gabriel’s voice softened.
“Please.”
That word surprised Hannah more than the command.
Lucy nodded.
As they reached the doorway, Gabriel said, “Hannah.”
She looked back.
“Do not tell anyone what we found.”
“Of course.”
“No one. Not another employee. Not a friend. Not even someone you trust.”
Her eyes narrowed.
“Because you don’t know who’s involved.”
Gabriel met her gaze.
“Exactly.”
Hannah glanced at her daughter.
“And you?”
“I’m going to find out.”
“No.”
Gabriel stared at her.
Hannah seemed to realize whom she had just told no.
She did not apologize.
“You’re angry,” she said. “Angry people think they’re careful when they’re actually just moving fast.”
Gabriel almost laughed from disbelief.
Most grown men measured every syllable in his presence.
His housekeeper had just diagnosed his emotional condition.
“I have managed difficult situations before.”
“I’m sure you have.”
“That sounded insulting.”
“It wasn’t supposed to sound like anything.”
“Mom,” Lucy whispered, “it sounded a little insulting.”
Gabriel looked at the girl.
Lucy shrugged.
“She tells me honesty matters.”
Hannah closed her eyes briefly.
Gabriel should have been furious.
Instead, something inside his chest loosened for half a second.
Then he looked at Michael’s watch again.
The feeling vanished.
“I’ll be careful.”
Hannah held his gaze.
“Good.”
After they left, Gabriel called one person.
Not Evan.
Not company security.
Not anyone connected to the organization his father had built.
He called Rebecca Shaw.
Rebecca was a federal-litigation attorney who had spent eight years telling Gabriel precisely how many years in prison his worst decisions could eventually cost him.
She disliked his world.
That was why he trusted her.
Forty minutes later, Rebecca arrived carrying gloves, evidence bags, and the expression of a woman irritated that a client had discovered a secret chamber in his mansion on a Thursday afternoon.
“You really do live absurdly,” she muttered.
Gabriel pointed at the box.
Her irritation disappeared.
For two hours, they photographed everything.
Invoices dated fourteen years earlier.
Payments from Rowan companies to entities that no longer existed.
Maintenance records from Warehouse Twelve.
Insurance forms.
And one notebook.
Michael’s notebook.
Most entries concerned freight contracts, payroll discrepancies and unexplained payments.
Then Gabriel saw Evan’s name.
Evan says the numbers are a clerical error. They aren’t.
A later entry:
Atlas Fire Systems billed us for the full sprinkler replacement. Warehouse 12 still has the old system. Asked Evan where the money went. He told me to leave it alone.
Then, three days before the fire:
If G won’t listen, I’ll take this to Dad. Cross knows I know.
Gabriel sat down.
Rebecca read over his shoulder.
“You never saw this?”
“No.”
“Did your brother say anything?”
“He called me the night before the fire.”
“What did he say?”
Gabriel remembered.
He had spent fourteen years remembering.
Michael had sounded irritated.
I need twenty minutes tomorrow. No excuses.
Gabriel had laughed.
You always need twenty minutes.
This time I mean it.
Gabriel had promised to meet him at Warehouse Twelve at seven.
At six forty-eight, the warehouse exploded.
Gabriel arrived while the building was burning.
Evan was already there.
Evan had run inside with him.
A ceiling beam collapsed.
Gabriel lost consciousness.
When he woke outside, Evan was dragging him through snow.
Michael was still inside.
For fourteen years, Gabriel had believed Evan saved his life.
“What caused the fire officially?” Rebecca asked.
“Accelerant near the west loading bay. Police believed it was retaliation from the Marconi crew.”
“And you believed that?”
“I made sure they paid for it.”
Rebecca went silent.
Gabriel heard the accusation she did not speak.
Men had suffered.
Some had disappeared from Chicago entirely.
Because Gabriel had believed the wrong man.
His phone vibrated.
Evan.
Gabriel looked at the screen.
Rebecca said, “Answer normally.”
Gabriel did.
“Where are you?”
Evan sounded relaxed.
“Driving range.”
“Enjoying your afternoon?”
“Trying to. Why?”
Gabriel looked at Michael’s handwriting.
“The downtown meeting is rescheduled for tomorrow.”
“Good.”
“And Evan?”
“Yeah?”
“Fourteen years.”
Silence.
Only a fraction too long.
Then Evan laughed.
“What about them?”
“Nothing. I was looking at an old photograph.”
Another pause.
“Michael?”
“Yes.”
Evan’s voice became gentle.
He had perfected that voice.
“Don’t do that to yourself.”
Gabriel closed his eyes.
Evan had said those words every year on the anniversary of Michael’s death.
Don’t do that to yourself.
What if the sentence had never been comfort?
What if it had been instruction?
“See you tomorrow,” Gabriel said.
He hung up.
Rebecca stared at him.
“He reacted.”
“I know.”
“You need law enforcement.”
“I need proof.”
“You have evidence.”
“I have evidence of theft and negligence.”
“And possibly conspiracy.”
“Possibly doesn’t tell me if he killed my brother.”
Rebecca’s expression hardened.
“Do not turn this into revenge.”
Gabriel looked at her.
“Fourteen years ago I already turned grief into revenge.”
He stood.
“I punished the wrong people.”
That evening, he gathered only Hannah and Lucy in the kitchen.
Hannah had finished her shift but refused to leave after Gabriel told her the gates were being watched.
Lucy sat at the island eating grilled cheese.
Gabriel had dismissed most household employees early under the excuse of an electrical inspection.
“What happens now?” Hannah asked.
“We act normally.”
“How do you act normally after finding out your best friend may have betrayed you for fourteen years?”
Gabriel looked at her.
“I don’t know yet.”
It was the first time Hannah had heard him admit that.
Lucy dipped her sandwich into tomato soup.
“Can I ask something?”
Gabriel nodded.
“Why did your brother hide his stuff in the wall?”
“He was probably scared someone would find it.”
“But why your house?”
“This used to be his house too.”
Lucy thought.
“So he wanted you to find it.”
“Eventually.”
“Then why didn’t you?”
Gabriel looked toward the ceiling.
Because Evan had managed the renovation after Michael died.
Because Evan had told him the old passage was sealed.
Because grief had made Gabriel let someone else handle every room that reminded him of his brother.
“I didn’t know where to look.”
Lucy nodded as though that made sense.
Then she said, “There was another paper.”
Gabriel froze.
“What paper?”
“In the box.”
Rebecca glanced up from her laptop.
“We cataloged everything.”
Lucy shook her head.
“Not inside the box.”
She slid off her stool.
“Under it.”
Gabriel followed her upstairs.
Lucy entered the passage, crouched beside the shelf and pointed.
A piece of paper barely showed beneath the steel container.
Rebecca used gloves to slide it free.
It was not paper.
It was an old photograph.
Michael.
Evan.
And Gabriel’s father.
They stood beside a truck outside Warehouse Twelve.
On the back, Michael had written a date.
Two days before the fire.
And beneath it:
If anything happens to me, ask Evan why he removed Camera 4.
Rebecca looked at Gabriel.
“Was there security footage from the fire?”
“Three cameras.”
“Not four?”
Gabriel felt cold.
“No.”
They returned downstairs.
At 9:17 p.m., the mansion alarm suddenly chimed.
One exterior door.
Then another.
Gabriel checked the security panel.
“Someone’s inside the property.”
Hannah pulled Lucy close.
Rebecca stood.
The lights went out.
Lucy gasped.
Gabriel reached into his jacket, then stopped when he heard something from the service corridor.
Squeak.
One step.
Squeak.
Lucy whispered, “Mr. Pierce.”
Gabriel moved toward the darkness.
“Nolan?”
A figure appeared.
Nolan stumbled into the kitchen.
Blood ran from his temple.
His coat was torn.
Gabriel caught him before he fell.
“They know,” Nolan gasped.
“Who?”
“Evan.”
Gabriel lowered him to the floor.
Nolan clutched his sleeve.
“He knows you found the room.”
Gabriel’s heart stopped.
“How?”
Nolan looked toward the ceiling.
“There are cameras in your house.”
Rebecca stared at him.
“Security cameras?”
Nolan shook his head.
“His cameras.”
Gabriel looked around the mansion he had considered the safest place he owned.
Nolan whispered one final sentence before losing consciousness.
May you like
“He’s been watching you for years.”
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