Chương 4
“You sound mad.”
“I am a little mad.”
“At Mister?”
Grace hesitated.
“At the situation.”
Amara frowned.
“What’s a sit-you-ation?”
Julian nearly laughed.
The sound that escaped him was smaller and stranger.
Grace looked at him as if she had never imagined he could make it.
Amara brightened.
“You laughed.”
“No.”
“You did.”
“I didn’t.”
“You did.”
Julian looked at Grace.
“Your daughter argues.”
“She comes by it naturally.”
Julian caught the remark.
Grace seemed to realize she had said it only after it was already in the room.
A corner of Julian’s mouth moved.
Then his phone vibrated against the table.
The screen showed Marcus.
Julian answered.
“What?”
Marcus’s voice came low through the speaker.
“Boss, there’s a car outside the north gate.”
“Plate?”
“Covered.”
“How long?”
“Maybe six minutes.”
“Occupants?”
“Can’t see through the tint.”
“Call the gatehouse.”
“Already did.”
Julian stood.
Grace did too.
Amara looked up with a noodle halfway to her mouth.
Julian walked to the window but kept to the side of it.
“Any attempt to enter?”
“No.”
“Movement?”
“Nothing.”
Julian’s voice became flat.
“Send Tomas around the west drive and get the security feed on my office screens.”
Grace was staring at him now.
“You think that’s them?”
Julian ended the call.
“I think nobody parks outside my gate with a covered plate because they enjoy architecture.”
Grace’s hand went automatically to Amara’s shoulder.
Julian crossed to the dining-room doors and opened them.
Marcus stood on the other side with one hand near his jacket.
Julian said, “Nobody leaves.”
Grace’s face changed.
“You told me—”
“I told you nobody would stop you without a reason.”
“You think this is a reason?”
“I think taking your daughter onto a dark road while an unidentified car watches my gate would be stupid.”
“I have a car.”
“So do they.”
Grace’s mouth tightened.
Julian looked at Marcus.
“Move them to the family sitting room.”
Grace stiffened.
“I’m not being locked in a room.”
“You’re being moved away from windows.”
“I can walk myself.”
“Then walk.”
Amara slid down from her chair.
“Can I bring bread Julian?”
All three adults looked at her.
Julian said, “Bread Julian?”
She held up the small bread figure.
“You.”
Marcus turned his face away.
Julian stared at the misshapen roll crumb with two tiny pieces stuck out like arms.
“Yes.”
Amara picked it up carefully.
Grace took her hand.
They followed Marcus through the corridor.
Julian remained behind for two seconds.
He looked at the empty chair beside his own.
Then he picked up his phone and called Adrian Vale.
Adrian answered on the second ring.
“You sound cheerful.”
“Pull everything on Stonebridge Domestic Staffing.”
A pause.
“All right.”
“Especially an employee named Denise Carter.”
“That real?”
“Probably not.”
“Better.”
Julian walked toward his office.
“And Adrian?”
“Yeah?”
“Find out who placed Grace Bennett in this house.”
The joking edge vanished from Adrian’s voice.
“When?”
“Eight months ago.”
“And why do I suddenly care?”
Julian reached the office doors.
“Because my dead wife may have arranged it.”
Adrian was silent.
Julian entered the security room adjoining his office.
Six monitors showed different angles of the property.
The north gate feed displayed a black sedan parked roughly sixty yards beyond the wall.
Its headlights were off.
“Julian,” Adrian finally said.
“What?”
“Claire’s been dead two years.”
“I’m aware.”
“That wasn’t what I meant.”
Julian watched the sedan.
One of the rear doors opened.
A man stepped out.
Baseball cap.
Dark jacket.
Phone in hand.
He did not approach the gate.
He raised the phone toward the estate.
Julian’s stomach tightened.
“Call me when you have something.”
He ended the call.
Marcus entered.
“Tomas is behind them.”
“Tell him not to engage.”
“They’re photographing the house.”
“I can see.”
“You want the plate?”
“It’s covered.”
“Tomas can get close enough to photograph the VIN if they move.”
“No.”
Marcus looked surprised.
Julian turned from the monitor.
“They came here expecting us to react.”
“So we don’t?”
“We find out what they want.”
Marcus folded his arms.
“You think it’s connected to the housekeeper?”
Julian gave him a look.
Marcus exhaled.
“Right.”
On the screen, the man outside the gate returned to the sedan.
The car did not move.
Julian enlarged the image.
The resolution blurred the man’s face.
Something on his right wrist caught the security light.
A metal watch.
No useful detail.
Then Julian noticed the jacket.
Not the jacket itself.
The insignia stitched near the shoulder.
A small white circle crossed by two black lines.
His fingers stopped on the keyboard.
Marcus leaned closer.
“You know it?”
Julian did.
He had seen that symbol on shipping manifests, warehouse uniforms, maintenance crews, and invoices for more than a decade.
It belonged to Meridian Logistics.
One of Julian’s own companies.
The sedan pulled away from the gate.
Julian watched the taillights vanish into the dark.
Marcus said, “Could be stolen gear.”
“Could be.”
“You don’t believe that.”
“No.”
Julian picked up his phone again.
He opened a secure contact list and found the number he wanted.
Marcus waited.
“Who are you calling?”
Julian pressed dial.
“My brother.”
Marcus’s face changed.
Nathan Hale answered after four rings.
“You know what time it is?”
Julian looked at the empty road on the monitor.
“Nine twenty-three.”
Nathan sighed.
“That was rhetorical.”
“I need to know where you are.”
A pause.
“At home.”
“Alone?”
Another pause.
“No.”
Julian listened to the faint background noise on the line.
Music.
Glasses.
Someone laughing.
A restaurant, not a house.
“You’re not home.”
Nathan swore softly.
“What is this?”
“Did you send anyone to my property tonight?”
“No.”
“Anyone from Meridian?”
Silence.
Julian’s voice sharpened.
“Nathan.”
“I said no.”
“You hesitated.”
“I’m at dinner.”
“With who?”
“What the hell does that matter?”
“Because a Meridian employee just photographed my house from outside the gate.”
The restaurant noise seemed to disappear from Nathan’s side.
When he spoke again, his voice was quieter.
“Did you see his face?”
May you like
“No.”
“Then how do you know he works for Meridian?”
