Chapter 22 - The Brother on the Ferry Dock
Adrian Vance looked enough like Marcus to make their differences more unsettling.
The same broad shoulders.
The same straight nose.
But where my husband held himself like a man accustomed to being obeyed, Adrian stood with one shoulder turned toward the water, as though keeping an exit available.
He wore a faded jacket and carried no briefcase.
Naomi came with us.
He noticed her first.
“I said without company security.”
“She isn’t security,” Marcus replied. “She’s the reason this conversation might accomplish something.”
Adrian’s eyes moved to me.
“Sienna.”
“You know my name.”
“I read the papers.”
“Then you know how reliable they’ve been.”
Something almost resembling a smile touched his mouth.
We sat at a picnic table overlooking the public ferry slips. Commuters passed behind us carrying coffee, lunch bags, and no interest in the Vance family.
I appreciated every one of them.
Adrian placed a folded map on the table.
“This is a copy,” he said. “The original is with my attorney.”
Naomi nodded.
“Good.”
The map showed the eastern yard behind Harbor House.
Seven locations were marked in red.
“Storage points,” Adrian said. “According to an old maintenance supervisor.”
“Whose supervisor?” Marcus asked.
“Our father’s.”
Marcus went still.
Their father, Elias Vance, had died before I met either brother. His portrait hung in the company lobby beneath a plaque praising his vision.
I had never liked that portrait.
Now I wished I had a better reason than the eyes.
“Clara found invoices,” Adrian continued. “Disposal charges billed for material that may never have left the property. She wanted testing.”
“What does ‘may’ mean?” Naomi asked.
“It means I didn’t see anyone bury anything. I’m telling you what we suspected.”
“Then keep making that distinction.”
He glanced at her with reluctant respect.
“Owen Pike collected samples. Before his final report, someone accused him of accepting money to exaggerate the results.”
“Who accused him?” I asked.
“A lawyer working for Gulf Renewal.”
I felt the familiar pieces draw closer.
“Martin Rourke’s company.”
Adrian nodded.
“Rourke wanted the waterfront long before your foundation existed.”
Marcus stared at his brother.
“Why didn’t you come to me?”
“I did.”
“No.”
“Your office canceled twice. Hale called the third time.”
“You could have called my personal number.”
“I did. You told me if this was another fight about Dad, you weren’t interested.”
Marcus opened his mouth.
Then closed it.
The silence that followed hurt to witness.
“I remember,” he said finally.
Adrian looked toward the ferry.
“You thought I wanted to punish him. Maybe part of me did. But Clara didn’t.”
“What happened to Pike?” Naomi asked.
“He left the profession. I helped him pay for a lawyer. After Clara died, he told me to stop contacting him.”
“Why?”
“He said he had a family.”
A ferry horn rolled across the water.
I pressed my palm against the map to stop the wind lifting it.
“Why call now?”
Adrian looked directly at me.
“Because the article said you were putting children there.”
“The children are at the sailing club. Harbor House hasn’t opened.”
“I know that now.”
“You could have told us before the first article.”
“Yes.”
He did not defend it.
That made me angrier in a way I had not expected.
So many people in this family had been protecting themselves from difficult conversations while the difficult things continued growing.
Marcus leaned forward.
“Help us fix it.”
Adrian’s jaw tightened.
“I don’t work for you.”
“I’m asking as your brother.”
For a long moment, nothing happened.
Then Adrian reached inside his jacket and placed a small notebook beside the map.
“Pike gave Clara preliminary field notes. She copied part of them for me.”
Naomi photographed the cover before opening it.
Dates.
Sample numbers.
Measurements I could not interpret.
At the bottom of one page was a sentence underlined twice.
Disturbed fill inconsistent with documented site history.
I read it again.
“Could this still be a localized cleanup?” I asked.
“Yes,” Adrian said. “It could.”
I appreciated that he did not pretend certainty.
“Then we commission current testing,” I said.
Marcus nodded.
“Independent. Full access.”
Adrian studied him.
“And if the results hurt the company?”
Marcus looked at the notebook.
Then at me.
“Then they hurt the company.”
We stood as the next ferry began boarding.
Adrian remained beside the table.
“One more thing.”
Marcus turned.
“Rourke doesn’t need the house demolished to get what he wants.”
“What does he need?” I asked.
Adrian folded the map.
May you like
“He needs someone else to accept the liability.”
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