Chương 15
I had learned how to survive without Caroline’s face.
Without Emma’s.
What happened if light returned before they did?
Cross spoke quietly into the phone.
“Yes, it’s Daniel.”
A pause.
“No, this isn’t about Mercer.”
Another pause.
His voice hardened.
“I’m looking for Peter Voss.”
I turned from the window.
Cross listened.
Then said, “When?”
His chair scraped backward.
“Are you sure?”
Martin stood.
Hannah moved closer.
Cross ended the call without goodbye.
“What?” I asked.
He did not answer immediately.
“Daniel.”
“Voss is dead.”
The words passed through me without meaning.
“When?”
“Three years ago.”
“How?”
Cross swallowed.
“Single-car accident in Pennsylvania.”
Martin asked, “Police report?”
“I’ll get it.”
“Was anyone else involved?”
“Not according to the man I called.”
I stood very still.
“So our investigator leaves eight months after Pier 17, receives payments through my confidential account, and dies two years later.”
“No,” Martin said.
I turned.
“What?”
He reopened his laptop.
“The payments didn’t stop when Voss died.”
Silence.
My skin went cold.
“How long did they continue?”
Martin scrolled.
“Eleven more months.”
Cross stared at him.
“That’s impossible.”
“No.”
Martin’s voice was grim.
“It’s accounting.”
I moved back toward the desk.
“Who received them?”
“Same company.”
“Then Voss Protective Consulting existed after Voss.”
“Yes.”
“Owned by whom?”
Martin searched.
His fingers slowed.
Then stopped.
I heard the tiny click of the trackpad.
“Grant.”
“Say it.”
“The company was transferred six weeks before Voss died.”
“To whom?”
Martin looked up.
“Vernon Hale.”
For several seconds, nobody spoke.
Then Cross said, “That can’t be right.”
Martin turned the laptop toward him.
“I wish it weren’t.”
Cross moved closer.
His breathing changed as he read.
“No.”
I stood beside the desk and listened to the word come apart in his mouth.
“No, Grant.”
“Tell me what you see.”
Cross did not answer.
“Daniel.”
“The transfer documents.”
His voice had gone hoarse.
“Voss signed the company over to Hale.”
“Before he died.”
“Yes.”
“Consideration?”
Martin said, “Ten dollars and assumption of liabilities.”
I almost laughed.
“A company receiving hundreds of thousands from my account sells for ten dollars.”
“Yes.”
“Find Hale.”
Cross was already reaching for his phone.
Martin said, “Not directly.”
Cross stopped.
Martin continued.
“We preserve everything first.”
“I am done waiting.”
“You wait twenty minutes or you give Hale a reason to disappear.”
That word had acquired too much weight.
Dane disappeared.
Voss died.
Now Hale owned the dead investigator’s company and had been receiving money through my account.
“Twenty minutes,” I said.
It took fourteen.
Martin copied records to an external drive, emailed preservation notices to Mercer finance and the pharmacy, and contacted a litigation partner who sounded annoyed until Martin said Pier 17.
Then the man became very awake.
Cross pulled location data from the security system Hale had voluntarily joined years earlier so he could enter the property without clearance delays.
Hale’s access credential had pinged the front gate eleven minutes ago.
Nobody had heard a car.
Cross looked toward the hallway.
“He’s here.”
Hannah whispered, “Lucy.”
I turned to her.
“Go.”
This time she did.
She ran.
Cross moved toward the library doors.
“Stay behind me.”
I almost argued.
Then Hale’s voice came from the hall.
“That won’t be necessary.”
He entered alone.
No medical bag.
No smoker’s cough.
Just shoes moving steadily across the floor.
Cross said, “Stop there.”
Hale stopped.
“Daniel.”
“Don’t.”
I faced his voice.
“You came quickly.”
“You stopped answering.”
“I was busy learning about your security company.”
Silence.
That was all I needed.
Hale knew.
“You want to explain Voss Protective Consulting?”
“No.”
Martin said, “That would be unwise.”
Hale ignored him.
“Grant, I came because tomorrow’s testing is a mistake.”
The absurdity almost impressed me.
“You own a company that received money from my special operations account after its founder died, and you came to discuss my eye exam.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because the rest is finished.”
Cross stepped forward.
“Finished?”
Hale’s voice hardened.
“Pier 17 is dead.”
“My wife and daughter are dead.”
I said it without raising my voice.
Hale went quiet.
I continued.
“So choose your next words carefully.”
He exhaled.
“The containers belonged to a network of shell companies moving restricted industrial compounds under false manifests.”
“Arcadia.”
“Yes.”
“Lewis Dane?”
“He worked for them.”
“As what?”
“Cleanup, transport, whatever they needed.”
“And you?”
Hale did not answer.
Cross swore.
I said, “Vernon.”
“I was a consultant.”
“To criminals?”
“To people who paid for medical discretion.”
Martin said, “That is a remarkable euphemism.”
Hale snapped, “You have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“No,” Martin said.
“But prosecutors enjoy definitions.”
Hale’s shoes shifted.
Cross moved with him.
“Stay where you are.”
Hale stopped again.
His voice lowered.
“I reviewed exposure reports.”
“For the sick workers?” I asked.
“Yes.”
“And?”
“They had been exposed to a neurotoxic solvent.”
Navarro’s warning echoed in my head.
Medication.
Neurological adaptation.
Suppressed function.
“Did you know the container was dangerous?”
“After the first worker collapsed.”
“Before the explosion?”
“Yes.”
“Did I?”
“No.”
My hands went cold.
“Why not?”
“Because the company behind it wanted the shipment moved before regulators got involved.”
“Did Mercer agree?”
“No.”
“Did I?”
“No.”
Cross said, “Grant ordered the pier locked down.”
A memory struck.
My palm against a conference table.
No container leaves until we know what’s in it.
Caroline calling afterward.
Dinner.
Emma.
The sitter.
My head began to pound.
I said, “The explosion was deliberate.”
Hale did not answer.
Cross took another step.
“Say it.”
“Yes.”
The word nearly emptied the room.
I gripped the desk.
“Who planted it?”
“Lewis Dane.”
“Who ordered him?”
“I never knew the name.”
“Convenient.”
“It’s true.”
“Why did Caroline get a call?”
Hale went silent.
My pulse surged.
“You know about that.”
“Yes.”
“Who called her?”
“Dane.”
Cross said, “How the hell do you know that?”
“Because he told me.”
My stomach turned.
“When?”
“The night before he disappeared.”
“What did he say?”
May you like
Hale’s voice lost some of its certainty.
“He was supposed to make sure Grant stayed in the office.”
