Chương 7
The room seemed to tilt.
Clara stared at him.
“What?”
“From a car across the road.”
“Why would anyone photograph me?”
“That’s what we’re finding out.”
Her pulse started climbing.
“You said you checked me.”
“We did.”
“So you know I have nothing to do with whatever this is.”
“I know your background is clean.”
“That isn’t the same as trusting me.”
“No.”
She hated how calmly he said it.
Brutus stood between them again.
Clara looked down at him.
The dog was watching Adrian now, alert to the tension in their voices.
She lowered hers.
“I’m leaving when my shift ends.”
Adrian’s face became still.
“If the road is clear.”
“It isn’t a negotiation.”
“No.”
Something cold returned to his voice.
“It isn’t.”
Clara felt the first genuine spark of fear she had experienced around him.
Not because he raised his voice.
Because he did not.
Nolan stepped forward.
“Adrian.”
Adrian looked at him.
“That’s not helping.”
For several seconds, nobody spoke.
Then Adrian rubbed a hand over his mouth.
When he looked at Clara again, some of the hardness had gone.
“I’ll have a driver take you home.”
“I take the bus.”
“Not tonight.”
“Why?”
“Because if whoever took that photograph was waiting for a household employee, sending you alone to a bus stop would be irresponsible.”
“And if they were taking pictures because this house belongs to you?”
“Then it would still be irresponsible.”
Clara hated that the logic made sense.
She hated more that fear was beginning to make the decision for her.
“What happens tomorrow?”
Adrian glanced toward Nolan.
“That depends on what we learn.”
“No.”
Clara shook her head.
“I need this job, but I’m not moving into some guarded mansion because your dog likes my socks.”
Brutus looked down at her feet.
Nolan’s mouth twitched.
Adrian did not smile.
“I didn’t ask you to move in.”
“Good.”
He held her gaze.
“Not yet.”
Clara’s stare hardened.
“That was a joke, right?”
Adrian’s expression remained infuriatingly neutral.
“Mostly.”
“That is not reassuring.”
“It wasn’t intended to be.”
Brutus moved between them and leaned his weight against Clara’s hip.
She had to catch herself on the edge of the table.
“You are not helping,” she told him.
Brutus looked up at her.
Adrian glanced toward Nolan.
“Find out who owns the car.”
“Already working on it.”
“And get the image off the gate camera.”
Nolan nodded.
Clara folded her arms tighter.
“What image?”
“The vehicle.”
“You have cameras outside the property?”
“On the property.”
“You said the car was across the road.”
“The east gate camera catches part of the shoulder.”
Something in Clara’s face shifted.
“Can it see the bus stop?”
Adrian hesitated.
“Part of it.”
“Delete anything with me in it.”
“No.”
The answer was immediate.
Her shoulders squared.
“Excuse me?”
“If someone photographed you, I’m not deleting the only record showing when you arrived and who may have been nearby.”
“It’s still footage of me.”
“Yes.”
“You don’t get to collect my life because somebody outside your house pointed a camera.”
“I’m collecting evidence of a possible security problem.”
“For you.”
“For everyone here.”
Clara looked around the room.
The thick windows, the silent guards, the enormous dog, the man whose employees treated a raised eyebrow like an evacuation order.
“This is exactly why normal people take the bus.”
Nolan’s phone buzzed again.
He read the message.
“The plate comes back to a rental.”
Adrian’s jaw tightened.
“Name?”
“Not yet.”
Clara felt cold despite the borrowed sweatshirt.
“What happens if it’s somebody you know?”
Adrian did not answer.
That frightened her more than if he had.
A guard appeared in the hallway.
“Car’s gone.”
“Direction?”
“South.”
“Followed?”
“Davis has eyes on it from two blocks back.”
Adrian nodded once.
Clara looked at him.
“You already had someone follow them?”
“They photographed an employee.”
“I’ve been your employee for less than a day.”
“That doesn’t reduce the problem.”
It should have sounded protective.
Instead it sounded proprietary.
Clara disliked the difference.
“I’m still going home.”
“You will.”
“In a normal car.”
Adrian looked almost offended.
“What does that mean?”
“No tinted windows, no two men in suits, no convoy.”
Nolan finally laughed.
It was a brief, unwilling sound.
Adrian turned toward him.
“You’re enjoying this.”
“A little.”
Clara pointed at Nolan.
“One driver.”
Nolan lifted both hands.
“Not my negotiation.”
“There is no negotiation,” Adrian said.
Clara turned back to him.
“You keep saying that as if it makes you more reasonable.”
“It makes me accurate.”
Brutus sighed heavily and lowered himself across Clara’s shoes.
She looked down.
“Traitor.”
His tail thumped once.
Adrian’s eyes dropped to the dog.
Something in his face softened again.
Then Nolan spoke.
“The rental name just came through.”
The softness vanished.
Adrian held out his hand.
Nolan did not give him the phone.
That alone changed the air.
“Nolan.”
“It’s Christopher Morrow.”
Adrian stopped moving.
Clara watched his face.
She saw almost nothing, which told her more than anger would have.
“Who is that?”
Neither man answered.
Clara waited.
Nolan looked at Adrian.
Adrian looked toward the window.
Finally he said, “Someone who used to work for me.”
“Used to?”
“Yes.”
“Why did he stop?”
“He stole from me.”
Clara stared.
“That seems straightforward enough.”
“It wasn’t money.”
“What was it?”
Adrian’s gaze returned to her.
“Information.”
The word settled badly.
“What kind?”
“Schedules.”
“Whose?”
“Mine.”
Nolan crossed the room and shut the sitting room door.
Clara heard the latch click.
She immediately looked at it.
Nolan noticed.
“It’s not locked.”
“Good.”
Adrian’s tone was sharp.
Nolan ignored him.
Clara looked between them.
“What happened to Morrow?”
“He disappeared before we could speak to him.”
“That sounds very normal and not ominous at all.”
Adrian’s mouth tightened.
“He knew enough to stay gone.”
“And now he’s taking pictures of your gate.”
“Apparently.”
“Why photograph me?”
“That is the useful question.”
Clara hated the phrase.
May you like
Useful question.
As if her face in a stranger’s camera were a problem on a spreadsheet.
