Chapter 7 - The Night Someone Came for Clara
Samuel Price answered on the second ring.
"Good evening, Bennett."
That calm voice had guided three generations of Hale men through courtrooms, acquisitions, funerals, and disasters.
Now I wanted to hear fear in it.
"Where are you?"
"Home."
"Stay there."
A pause.
"Is everything all right?"
"No."
"Bennett—"
I ended the call.
Daniel looked at me.
"Trap?"
"Probably."
"You still going?"
"Yes."
"Of course."
Clara stood near the doorway.
"I'm coming."
"No."
She crossed her arms.
"That's becoming your favorite word."
"You're staying here."
"People broke into this house."
"Which is exactly why—"
"To steal information about me."
"Exactly."
"So I should know what it is."
I stared at her.
She stared back.
Mother whispered, "Take her."
Both of us turned.
"Mother."
"She's been kept outside her own life long enough."
Clara looked surprised.
I didn't like it.
But Mother was right.
Again.
That was becoming exhausting.
Twenty minutes later, Daniel drove.
I sat beside him.
Clara sat in back.
Two security vehicles followed.
Samuel Price lived in a brownstone near the courthouse district.
Old money street.
Quiet trees.
Expensive silence.
The front door was open.
Daniel noticed first.
"Bad."
I turned to Clara.
"Stay in the car."
This time she nodded.
Progress.
We entered.
No lights.
No Samuel.
The living room looked untouched.
His office didn't.
Drawers had been opened.
Papers scattered.
Safe door hanging wide.
"Someone beat us here," Daniel said.
I checked the desk.
A glass of whiskey.
Still cold.
Samuel hadn't been gone long.
Then we heard a noise upstairs.
Daniel went first.
I followed.
Samuel sat on the floor beside his bed.
Blood ran from his forehead.
Alive.
Barely conscious.
He looked at me.
"Bennett."
"Who did this?"
His eyes widened.
"Clara."
My grip tightened.
"What about her?"
"Where is she?"
"Outside."
Samuel tried to stand.
"Get her away."
"From who?"
He looked toward the hallway.
"Victor."
"He's not here."
Samuel laughed bitterly.
"You still think Victor is the biggest problem."
I crouched.
"Who is?"
He reached for my jacket.
"Your father."
I stared at him.
"My father is dead."
"His decisions aren't."
Sirens approached.
Daniel had called medical support.
Samuel whispered, "Second ledger."
"Where?"
"Not a ledger anymore."
"What does that mean?"
"Jonathan converted everything."
"Into what?"
"Evidence."
My pulse changed.
"Against Victor?"
"Against all of you."
I froze.
Samuel closed his eyes.
"Hale organization. Judges. Police. Shipping. Accounts."
Daniel swore.
My father had documented the criminal empire.
Everything.
"Where is it?"
Samuel looked at me.
"Clara has the key."
"What key?"
"She doesn't know."
Of course.
Nothing in this family could be simple.
"What did Father give her?"
Samuel whispered, "The book."
The Count of Monte Cristo.
I stood.
"What's inside it?"
"Not inside."
His eyes rolled closed.
"Samuel."
No response.
Paramedics arrived.
I ran downstairs.
The car door was open.
Clara was gone.
For one second, the entire street became silent.
"Daniel!"
He came outside.
Saw the car.
His face changed.
The driver lay unconscious beside the curb.
Alive.
A folded piece of paper rested on Clara's seat.
I opened it.
One sentence.
BRING JONATHAN'S BOOK TO PIER 14 IF YOU WANT YOUR SISTER BACK.
Daniel read over my shoulder.
"Victor?"
"I don't know."
"You can't bring the book."
"I know."
"You can't go alone."
"I know."
"You are going anyway."
"Yes."
He sighed.
"At least you're consistent."
We returned to the mansion for the book.
Mother was waiting.
When I told her Clara had been taken, she didn't cry.
She slapped me.
Hard.
I stared at her.
"That was for leaving her in the car."
"Fair."
"And this—"
She slapped me again.
"—is for believing you can fix everything alone."
"Also fair."
Daniel looked away.
Probably to hide a smile.
Mother took the book.
She examined the binding.
"Your father loved hidden compartments."
She ran her finger along the spine.
Nothing.
Then she noticed the publisher's emblem.
A small gold crown.
She pressed it.
The spine released.
Inside was a thin metal key.
Not a house key.
A safe-deposit key.
Number 814.
Daniel photographed it.
"Bank?"
"Maybe."
Mother looked at Father's inscription.
Then shook her head.
"Jonathan wouldn't leave evidence in a bank Victor could access."
I studied the number.
814.
August 14.
My birthday.
Or a coincidence.
With Father, probably not.
Pier 14 was forty minutes away.
I reached it in thirty-two.
Daniel hated that.
The pier had been abandoned years ago.
Warehouse doors rusted.
River black beneath the lights.
I walked inside carrying the book.
Daniel's team positioned beyond sight.
"Clara!"
My voice echoed.
A light turned on.
Clara sat in a chair.
Hands tied.
Mouth uncovered.
She looked furious.
Not terrified.
That was almost comforting.
A man stood behind her.
Not Victor.
Samuel's son.
Michael Price.
Thirty-eight.
Attorney.
I'd known him since childhood.
"You've got to be kidding me."
Michael smiled.
"Hello, Bennett."
"What did you do to your father?"
"Nothing permanent."
"You kidnapped my sister."
His smile widened.
"So we're calling her that now?"
"Untie her."
"The book."
I lifted it.
"You first."
Clara glared.
"Bennett, don't."
Michael put a hand on her shoulder.
I took a step forward.
"Remove your hand."
He did.
Smart.
"Why do you want the key?"
"Because my father spent thirty years serving yours."
"So?"
"So Jonathan promised us protection."
"From what?"
"Victor."
"Join the club."
Michael's smile disappeared.
"Victor knows what's in Deposit 814."
"Where is it?"
"Not deposit."
I remembered Samuel's words.
Not a ledger anymore.
Michael continued.
"Storage vault beneath Union Station."
"Why kidnap Clara?"
"Because the vault requires two things."
"What?"
"The key."
"And?"
"Jonathan Hale's biological heir."
I looked at Clara.
DNA lock.
Or biometric verification through records.
My father had been paranoid enough.
"Why not me?"
Michael shook his head.
"The trust vault was created for Clara."
She whispered, "I hate him."
Despite everything, I almost laughed.
"So you need her alive."
"Very."
"Good."
I threw the book toward the center of the warehouse.
Michael's eyes followed it.
That was his mistake.
Daniel's team moved.
Fast.
No dramatic shootout.
No unnecessary blood.
Michael was on the floor before he understood what happened.
Clara kicked him once.
"That was for the car."
Then she looked at me.
"You took forever."
"It was thirty-two minutes."
"Felt longer."
I untied her.
My fingers shook slightly.
She noticed.
"You were scared."
"No."
"Liar."
"Family trait."
She laughed.
And something strange happened.
For the first time since Mother told me the truth, Clara didn't feel like a stranger connected by DNA.
She felt like someone I could lose.
That frightened me more.
Daniel picked up the key.
"We need to find this vault."
Michael laughed from the floor.
"Too late."
I turned.
"What?"
"Victor already knows."
"Where?"
"No."
I walked toward him.
He smiled.
"You think tonight was about getting the key?"
My stomach tightened.
"What was it about?"
"Getting you away from the house."
I stopped.
Mother.
I called security.
No answer.
Again.
Nothing.
Daniel was already moving.
We drove back at impossible speed.
The front gate stood open.
The mansion was dark.
Exactly as before.
I ran upstairs.
Mother's bedroom was empty.
Wheelchair gone.
Bed empty.
On the pillow sat one white envelope.
My name.
Inside, Victor had written three words.
NOW WE TALK.
Clara came up behind me.
Her face crumpled.
"He took her."
I stared at the empty bed.
This had stopped being a fight over inheritance.
Victor had taken the one person who knew every secret.
The one person already dying.
He had taken my mother.
And for the first time in my adult life, I didn't want revenge.
I wanted her back.
May you like
Because somewhere in the city, Eleanor Hale was alone with the man she'd spent twenty-five years trying to protect us from.
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