Chương 3
“Search the grounds.”
“They are.”
“Grant?”
“Coordinating.”
Damian turned his head.
Marcus knew that look. “You think Grant is involved?”
“I think Celeste told me not to trust the company phones.”
“That could mean the network is compromised.”
“It could mean anything. Where is her green bag?”
“We checked her car. It isn’t there.”
“Cameras?”
“Grant says the corridor camera went offline at nine thirty-eight.”
“Only that camera?”
“The two nearest it as well.”
Damian’s silence lengthened.
Marcus rubbed his thumb along the handle of the security case. “There was a system patch scheduled tonight.”
“Who approved it?”
“I did.”
Damian looked at him fully.
Marcus’s face tightened. “Grant’s office requested routine downtime after the board dinner. I approved the maintenance window three days ago.”
“Did Celeste know?”
“No.”
“Did Peter?”
“The schedule was copied to the executive group.”
Damian glanced through the glass. Celeste lay beneath a white blanket while a technician adjusted leads on her chest. “Then Peter knew when the cameras would fail.”
“So did six other executives.”
“So did Grant.”
A hospital administrator approached and introduced herself. Damian did not remember her name ten seconds later. She explained that the scan showed no skull fracture or intracranial bleeding. Celeste had a concussion, a scalp contusion, and mild dehydration. They wanted to observe her overnight because of the vomiting and the period of unconsciousness.
“Can I see her?”
“For a few minutes.”
He entered alone.
Celeste looked younger against the hospital pillow. Someone had cleaned the blood from her cheek but left the two scratches visible. The pale-silver dress had been covered by a gown, though one strap remained beneath it. Her long hair had been gathered loosely away from the tender area on her scalp.
“You look terrible,” she said.
He sat beside the bed. “You’re wearing a neck brace.”
“They’re taking it off.”
“You vomited on Miriam.”
“She’s had worse evenings.”
He reached for her hand. Celeste let him hold it but did not close her fingers around his.
“What was in the bag?”
Her eyes moved toward the door.
“No one can hear us.”
“You don’t know that.”
“Then whisper.”
She studied him, deciding whether the man beside her was her father or the chairman of Royce Maritime Holdings. Damian recognized the distinction because she had been forcing him to recognize it for years.
“A drive,” she said. “Printed records. Copies of maintenance reports. Messages.”
“From whom?”
“Peter. Kessler. Two vice presidents in operations.”
“About what?”
“The Halcyon Star.”
Damian leaned back slightly.
The vessel’s name had not been spoken inside his home for months. The Halcyon Star was a thirty-year-old container ship registered through a Royce subsidiary. Ten months earlier, an electrical fire in its engine room had killed three crew members off the coast of California. The official investigation remained open. Royce Maritime had blamed an undetected wiring defect and the failure of an independent maintenance contractor.
The company had paid funeral expenses, established education funds for the dead men’s children, and issued a statement promising full cooperation.
“What reports?” Damian asked.
“The ones showing the fault was detected.”
“That isn’t possible.”
“It was found four months before the fire.”
“I read the file.”
“You read the file Peter gave you.”
Damian released her hand.
Celeste’s mouth tightened. “There. That.”
“What?”
“That little retreat you do when someone tells you something you don’t want.”
“I’m considering what you said.”
“You’re putting distance between yourself and it.”
“Three men died on one of my ships. I don’t need a lesson in the significance.”
“No, you need a lesson in what happened.”
His voice lowered. “You have a concussion.”
“And you have a company.”
The monitor continued its calm rhythm between them.
Damian stood and walked to the window. Below, the hospital parking structure glowed under rows of white lights. Cars entered and left. A rideshare driver leaned against his hood, looking at his phone.
“How did you get the records?” he asked.
“Someone sent me an internal audit packet.”
“Who?”
“I don’t know.”
“You brought anonymous documents to my house and confronted Peter?”
“I came to confront you.”
“Then why was Peter there?”
“Because you invited him to dinner.”
Damian turned.
Celeste’s eyes were wet, though her voice remained even. “I wanted to see whether you already knew.”
“Knew what?”
“That the repair was deferred. That the inspection record was altered after the fire. That Peter arranged payments through a vendor to keep two engineers quiet.”
“And?”
“You didn’t know.”
The answer should have relieved him. It did not.
She looked toward the ceiling. “That was almost worse.”
“You think I should have known.”
“I think you built a company where nobody tells you anything that might disturb your dinner.”
“That’s convenient.”
“What is?”
“Blaming the structure instead of the people who lied.”
“You are the structure.”
The words entered him without drama. Celeste had always possessed her mother’s ability to make a sentence sound less like an accusation than a fact she regretted needing to state.
Damian returned to the chair.
“Tell me what happened tonight.”
She closed her eyes for a moment. “I arrived at nine fifteen. Marcus met me at the front entrance. He said you were finishing with the board.”
Marcus had expected her because she had texted him that afternoon asking to speak to her father privately. He had not told Damian. That omission would matter later.
“I waited in the blue sitting room,” Celeste continued. “Peter came in. He acted surprised. He asked why I was there.”
“Did you tell him?”
“No.”
“Did he see the bag?”
“Yes.”
“Then?”
“He said you were tired. He suggested I come back tomorrow.”
“That sounds like Peter.”
“I told him I needed to speak to you before anyone left. He asked whether this was about the foundation’s port health study.”
“Was it?”
“No. I said no.”
May you like
She pressed two fingers against her temple. Damian reached toward the call button, but she shook her head.
“He looked at the bag again,” she said. “Then he said something strange.”
