PART 3 — THE MAN AT THE HEAD OF THE TABLE
Roger Vance stopped in the doorway.
For the first time since I had known him, the man had absolutely nothing to say.
Behind him stood Derek, Bertha, two corporate attorneys, and half the senior executives of Vance Industrial Group.
Every one of them was staring at me.
I remained seated.
My attorney, Jonathan Hale, sat to my right with three folders arranged neatly in front of him.
Roger finally found his voice.
“What the hell is he doing here?”
Jonathan glanced at me.
I said nothing.
Roger stepped farther into the boardroom.
“I asked you a question.”
“And you’ll get an answer,” Jonathan said calmly. “Please take your seat, Mr. Vance.”
Roger stared at him.
“Who are you?”
“Jonathan Hale.”
Something changed in Roger’s expression.
Unlike Derek and Bertha, Roger recognized the name.
“You’re Baldric’s attorney?”
Jonathan gave a slight nod.
Roger looked back at me.
Then at the chair I was sitting in.
The chair at the head of the table.
“Get out of my seat.”
I leaned back.
“It isn’t your seat anymore.”
Derek laughed.
It was the same arrogant laugh I had heard outside the mansion.
“Dad, this is ridiculous. He’s playing some stupid game because Arianne had another one of her episodes.”
My hands tightened beneath the table.
Jonathan looked toward Derek.
“I would strongly advise you not to discuss Mrs. Vance’s medical condition.”
Derek smirked.
“Why?”
“Because everything said in this room is being recorded.”
The smile disappeared.
Bertha stepped forward.
“You people are unbelievable.”
She pointed at me.
“This man broke into our home and kidnapped my daughter-in-law.”
I finally looked at her.
“Kidnapped?”
“Yes.”
“She called me begging for help.”
“She was hysterical.”
“She was unconscious when I found her.”
Bertha’s face tightened.
“She had taken medication.”
“Medication Derek gave her?”
Nobody answered.
I looked at Derek.
He avoided my eyes.
That told me enough.
But this meeting wasn’t about proving what happened in that bathroom.
That would be handled somewhere else.
This meeting was about something the Vances understood far better.
Money.
Power.
Control.
I nodded toward Jonathan.
He opened the first folder.
“Forty-eight hours ago, emergency protective provisions were activated across six private holding companies.”
Roger’s face hardened.
“What holding companies?”
Jonathan began naming them.
The room changed with every name.
Northstar Freight Holdings.
Ridgeway Distribution Partners.
Hawthorne Logistics Trust.
Midwest Commercial Properties.
Sterling Fleet Leasing.
Crownline Warehousing.
By the fourth name, Roger had stopped pretending he wasn’t concerned.
By the sixth, he was pale.
Derek looked confused.
Bertha didn’t.
She looked at Roger.
“What?”
Roger didn’t answer.
“Roger?”
He slowly pulled out a chair.
“Sit down, Bertha.”
Her eyes widened.
“What is going on?”
Roger looked at me.
“How much?”
I folded my hands on the table.
“How much what?”
“Do you control?”
Jonathan answered for me.
“Enough.”
Roger’s jaw tightened.
“I want a number.”
“You’ll receive all relevant ownership information through counsel.”
Roger slammed his palm against the table.
“This is my company!”
“No,” Jonathan said.
“It is the company you operate.”
Silence.
Jonathan pushed a document across the table.
Roger stared at it.
He didn’t touch it.
Jonathan continued.
“Vance Industrial’s regional operations depend heavily on warehouse leases, fleet agreements, freight contracts, credit guarantees, and distribution infrastructure provided through entities ultimately controlled by Mr. Baldric.”
Derek finally stopped smiling.
“What does that mean?”
Roger turned toward his son.
“It means shut up.”
Derek stared at him.
“Dad—”
“I said shut up.”
Bertha walked toward the table.
“You’re telling me this old mechanic owns our company?”
“No,” I said.
“I don’t.”
She gave me a triumphant look.
Then I finished.
“I own enough of what keeps it operating that your husband understood the problem before you did.”
Her expression disappeared.
I had never wanted this moment.
That was the part none of them understood.
For most of my adult life, I had worked.
First with my hands.
Then with machines.
Then with trucks.
One truck became three.
Three became twelve.
Twelve became a regional freight business.
I reinvested almost everything.
Warehouses came next.
Then distribution centers.
Then commercial property.
By the time Arianne was in high school, I had more money than I knew what to do with.
But I remembered exactly how people treated me before I had it.
So I kept living simply.
Same modest house.
Same work clothes.
And until it finally died, the same old truck.
When Arianne met Derek, I told her nothing about the trusts.
Nothing about the companies.
Nothing about the inheritance I had built for her and any children she might someday have.
I wanted one thing.
For the man who married my daughter to choose Arianne.
Not Baldric’s money.
For a while, I believed Derek had.
Then little things began changing.
The first time I saw a bruise on Arianne’s arm, Derek said she had slipped while carrying laundry.
The second time, Arianne gave me the excuse herself.
The third time, she stopped wearing short sleeves.
I should have acted then.
That was something no amount of money could erase.
Roger finally picked up the document.
“What are you demanding?”
“Nothing.”
He looked confused.
“You called this meeting.”
“No. Jonathan did.”
“Then what do you want?”
I looked toward Derek.
“I want nothing from your family.”
Derek pushed his chair back.
“Then why are we here?”
Jonathan opened the second folder.
“Because Vance Industrial received notice this morning that several agreements will not be renewed when their existing terms expire, subject to all contractual obligations.”
Roger immediately turned toward him.
“You can’t do that.”
Jonathan slid another document across the table.
“Your attorneys may review the relevant provisions.”
One of Roger’s lawyers took it.
His eyes moved quickly across the pages.
Roger looked at him.
“Well?”
The attorney hesitated.
“They appear to have the contractual right.”
Roger’s face darkened.
“How bad?”
The attorney didn’t answer immediately.
Roger’s voice rose.
“How bad?”
“Potentially significant.”
Bertha looked at me.
“You planned this.”
“No.”
“You’ve been waiting for an excuse to destroy us.”
I stood.
“No, Bertha.”
For the first time, I allowed some of the anger I had been holding back to enter my voice.
“I spent six years hoping I was wrong about your son.”
Derek stood too.
“You don’t know anything about our marriage.”
“I know what I saw on my daughter’s wrists.”
“She did that herself!”
I stepped around the table.
Derek backed away before he could stop himself.
Everyone noticed.
I stopped several feet from him.
“Say it again.”
He swallowed.
“Arianne is unstable.”
“Say she did it to herself.”
His mouth opened.
Nothing came out.
I stared at him.
“You had no problem saying it when she was unconscious.”
Bertha moved between us.
“Do not threaten my son.”
“I haven’t threatened anyone.”
“You’re trying to bankrupt this family.”
“No.”
I looked at Roger.
“I’m separating my businesses from yours.”
Roger understood the distinction immediately.
Bertha didn’t.
“That’s the same thing.”
“No, it isn’t.”
I pointed toward the documents.
“Your family built a company that became dependent on contracts you assumed would always be available. Those contracts have terms. My companies will honor every legal obligation they have.”
Roger stared at me.
“And after that?”
“After that, you find another partner.”
Roger’s face told me how difficult he expected that to be.
Derek suddenly laughed again.
This time it sounded forced.
“Fine.”
Everyone looked at him.
“We’ll find another logistics company.”
Roger closed his eyes.
“You still don’t understand.”
“What?”
Roger looked at his son.
“Baldric’s network handles nearly half our regional distribution.”
Derek’s face changed.
“Then replace it.”
“With what?”
“I don’t know.”
“That’s because you’ve never had to know.”
Derek turned toward me.
“You think this makes you powerful?”
“No.”
“You hid money from Arianne for years.”
“I protected it.”
“From what?”
I stared directly at him.
“Men like you.”
That hit him.
Derek stepped forward.
Jonathan immediately rose.
So did two members of building security standing near the door.
Derek noticed them.
“You brought guards?”
“No,” Jonathan said. “The board did.”
Derek looked around the room.
That was when he finally noticed something I had noticed the moment I entered.
Three board members had refused to sit beside Roger.
Two had brought independent attorneys.
One hadn’t looked at Derek once.
Roger noticed it too.
“What else is happening?”
Jonathan opened the third folder.
“Your board requested an independent review this morning.”
Roger stared at the directors.
“On whose authority?”
A woman named Margaret Chen, who had served on the board for eleven years, answered.
“Ours.”
Roger looked stunned.
“Why?”
Margaret placed a tablet on the table.
“Because this isn’t only about Baldric.”
She turned the screen around.
A spreadsheet appeared.
Roger leaned closer.
“What is that?”
“Payments.”
His expression changed.
“What payments?”
“Corporate funds transferred through consulting vendors over the last eighteen months.”
Roger looked at his chief financial officer.
The man wouldn’t meet his eyes.
Margaret continued.
“We found them after Baldric’s legal team requested an accounting of shared contractual obligations.”
Roger stared at the screen.
“I’ve never seen these.”
“I believe you.”
Everyone looked at her.
She pointed toward one column.
“The authorizations came from Derek.”
Derek went white.
Roger slowly turned toward his son.
“What did you do?”
“Nothing.”
“Derek.”
“It’s accounting stuff. I don’t handle that.”
Margaret tapped the screen.
“Your electronic authorization appears on seventeen transactions.”
“That can be copied.”
“Perhaps.”
She remained calm.
“That’s why we’re investigating.”
Roger stood.
“How much money?”
The CFO finally spoke.
“Just over four million dollars.”
Bertha gasped.
Roger looked as though someone had struck him.
“Four million?”
Derek shook his head.
“This is insane.”
“Where did it go?” Roger demanded.
“I don’t know!”
Margaret looked at Jonathan.
Jonathan said nothing.
I hadn’t known about the missing money before that morning either.
My legal team had found irregularities while examining the contracts.
We had turned them over to Vance Industrial’s independent directors.
What happened next belonged to them.
But Derek apparently thought I was responsible for all of it.
“You did this.”
He pointed at me.
“You planted something.”
I almost felt sorry for him.
Almost.
“I didn’t need to.”
Derek’s face twisted.
“You hated me from the beginning.”
“No.”
I shook my head.
“I trusted you with the most important person in my life.”
The room went quiet.
“And you taught me why that was a mistake.”
Derek suddenly grabbed his phone.
Jonathan spoke immediately.
“I wouldn’t do that.”
“Why?”
“Because your attorney is going to want you to preserve it.”
Derek froze.
Roger stared at him.
“Give me the phone.”
“No.”
“Give it to me.”
“You’re not taking my phone.”
Roger moved toward him.
Derek backed away.
And for the first time, I saw something between father and son that I recognized.
Fear.
Not Derek’s fear of Roger.
Roger’s fear of what Derek might have done.
My own phone vibrated.
I looked down.
It was the hospital.
I answered immediately.
“This is Baldric.”
“Mr. Baldric, this is Dr. Ellis.”
I turned away from the table.
“How is she?”
“Arianne is awake.”
My knees almost gave out.
“Can I talk to her?”
“In a moment. There’s something you need to know first.”
The doctor’s tone made every muscle in my body tighten.
“What?”
“We completed additional testing.”
I walked toward the window.
“Is she okay?”
“She’s stable.”
“Then tell me.”
There was a pause.
“Your daughter had a significant amount of a sedative in her system.”
I closed my eyes.
“Could she have taken it herself?”
“That’s something investigators will need to determine. But she’s awake and able to speak with them.”
I looked across the boardroom.
Derek was arguing with his father.
“Has she said what happened?”
Another pause.
“Yes.”
My stomach tightened.
“What did she say?”
“She said she did not willingly take the medication.”
I stopped breathing for a second.
The doctor continued.
“She also asked us to document injuries that appear to be in different stages of healing.”
I stared at Derek.
Different stages.
Not one night.
Not one accident.
A pattern.
“Can I speak to her?”
“Yes.”
A few seconds later, I heard breathing.
Then:
“Dad?”
Every bit of anger inside me disappeared for one second.
“Arianne.”
Her voice cracked.
“You came.”
“Of course I came.”
“I thought you wouldn’t get there in time.”
I closed my eyes.
“I’m sorry.”
“For what?”
“For waiting six years for you to ask me for help.”
She began crying.
“Dad—”
“I should have done more.”
“No.”
“Yes.”
“I kept lying to you.”
“Because you were afraid.”
Silence.
Then she whispered, “I’m still afraid.”
“I know.”
“He’s going to come after me.”
“No.”
“You don’t know Derek.”
I looked across the room at him.
“I know enough.”
“Dad, there’s something you need to know.”
Her voice dropped.
“What?”
“The money.”
I turned away from the boardroom.
“What money?”
“Derek has been moving money.”
My eyes went toward the spreadsheet on Margaret’s tablet.
“How do you know?”
“I found something on his computer three months ago.”
“What?”
“Accounts.”
“Whose?”
“I don’t know. Some were companies I’d never heard of.”
“Did you save anything?”
“Yes.”
My heart started pounding.
“Where?”
Arianne hesitated.
“I hid a flash drive.”
“Where is it?”
“At the house.”
I looked toward Derek.
“Where in the house?”
“My sewing room. There’s an old wooden box Grandma gave me. The bottom lifts out.”
I motioned for Jonathan.
He came closer.
I covered the phone.
“Arianne says there’s evidence inside the Vance mansion.”
His expression changed.
“Do not go get it yourself.”
“I wasn’t planning to.”
He immediately stepped away and began making a call.
I returned to Arianne.
“Sweetheart, what did you find?”
“I don’t know everything.”
“Tell me what you do know.”
She took a shaky breath.
“Derek has another company.”
“What company?”
“I only saw the initials.”
“What initials?”
“B.V.C.”
I looked toward the boardroom.
“Anything else?”
“Yes.”
“There were payments from his dad’s company.”
That matched what Margaret had discovered.
“But there were other payments too.”
“From where?”
“I don’t know.”
Her breathing became uneven.
“Arianne?”
“I’m here.”
“What aren’t you telling me?”
She went quiet.
Then:
“I confronted Derek about it last night.”
Everything inside me stopped.
“Before you called me?”
“Yes.”
“What happened?”
“He got angry.”
“Did he hurt you?”
She began crying.
“Arianne.”
“Yes.”
I gripped the phone.
“What about the medication?”
“I didn’t take it.”
“Who gave it to you?”
Silence.
Then she whispered:
“Bertha.”
I slowly turned.
Derek’s mother was still standing beside the boardroom table.
She was watching me now.
Our eyes met.
“What happened?” I asked Arianne.
“Bertha brought me tea.”
“Did you drink it?”
“Half of it.”
“Then what?”
“I started feeling dizzy.”
“Where was Derek?”
“With her.”
My blood ran cold.
“What happened after that?”
“I tried to leave.”
Arianne started breathing faster.
“Derek grabbed me.”
I looked at the bruises in my memory.
Dark circles around both wrists.
“He held your wrists.”
“Yes.”
“What was Bertha doing?”
“She locked the bedroom door.”
I stared at her through the glass reflection.
“Why?”
Arianne’s next words were almost inaudible.
“They wanted the flash drive.”
My hand tightened around the phone.
“Did you give it to them?”
“No.”
“Do they know where it is?”
“I don’t think so.”
“Then don’t worry about it. We’ll handle it.”
“Dad.”
“Yes?”
“There’s something worse on it.”
I went still.
“What?”
“One of the files had your company’s name.”
I looked toward Jonathan.
“My company?”
“Yes.”
“Which one?”
“Northstar.”
I felt a chill move through me.
“What about Northstar?”
“I think Derek was using your company without you knowing.”
“How?”
“I don’t understand it.”
She began crying again.
“But there were shipment numbers.”
“Shipment numbers for what?”
“I don’t know.”
“Anything else?”
“There was a list of drivers.”
My stomach tightened.
I had spent forty years building those companies.
I knew many of my drivers personally.
“What drivers?”
“I only remember one name.”
“Who?”
She told me.
And for the first time that morning, I felt something colder than anger.
Because I knew the name.
Marcus Reed.
He had driven for Northstar for seventeen years.
He had disappeared four months earlier.
His truck had been found abandoned at a rest stop outside St. Louis.
Police believed he had walked away voluntarily.
His wife never believed it.
Neither had I.
“Arianne, listen to me.”
“What?”
“Do not tell anyone else about that flash drive until your statement is taken and your attorney is present.”
“Why?”
“Because I think what you found is bigger than Derek stealing from his father.”
Behind me, a chair scraped violently across the boardroom floor.
I turned.
Derek was heading for the door.
“Where are you going?” Roger demanded.
“Home.”
Jonathan stepped into his path.
“I wouldn’t.”
“Move.”
“There are investigators already on their way to the residence.”
Derek’s face went completely white.
Bertha reacted differently.
She reached into her handbag.
Not for a weapon.
For her phone.
She began typing.
Jonathan noticed.
“Mrs. Vance, I strongly recommend you preserve any potentially relevant communications.”
She ignored him.
Then I saw her thumb moving quickly across the screen.
Deleting something.
“Bertha.”
She looked at me.
I had never used her first name like that before.
She stopped typing.
“What are you deleting?”
“Nothing.”
Derek suddenly grabbed her wrist.
“Mom.”
She pulled away.
“Don’t.”
Roger stared at both of them.
“What is happening?”
Neither answered.
Roger stepped toward his wife.
“What did you do?”
Bertha looked at Derek.
That was all it took.
Roger understood.
“You knew about the money?”
“No.”
“Then why are you looking at him?”
“Roger—”
“WHAT DID YOU DO?”
Bertha’s composure finally cracked.
“It was supposed to protect the family.”
The entire room went silent.
Derek closed his eyes.
“Mom, shut up.”
Roger stared at her.
“Protect us from what?”
Bertha realized too late that she had said too much.
Jonathan’s phone rang.
He answered.
“Yes?”
He listened.
Then his eyes moved toward me.
“When?”
Another pause.
“Understood.”
He ended the call.
“What?” I asked.
“The investigators reached the mansion.”
“And?”
“They found Arianne’s wooden box.”
I felt myself breathe again.
“The flash drive?”
His expression told me something was wrong.
“The compartment was empty.”
Derek looked relieved.
Only for half a second.
But I saw it.
So did Jonathan.
Then Jonathan’s phone buzzed again.
He read a message.
His expression changed.
“What now?”
He turned the screen toward me.
“The security system recorded someone entering Arianne’s sewing room at 2:47 this morning.”
“Who?”
Jonathan enlarged a still image.
It showed a person standing beside Arianne’s wooden box.
Not Derek.
Not Bertha.
Roger leaned closer.
His face lost all color.
“No.”
I looked at him.
“You recognize him?”
Roger stared at the photograph.
“That’s impossible.”
“Who is he?”
Roger didn’t answer.
“Roger.”
His lips barely moved.
“My brother.”
Derek looked up sharply.
“Uncle Vincent?”
Roger nodded.
Bertha sat down.
She suddenly looked terrified.
And that frightened me more than anything else I had seen from her.
Because Bertha Vance was not a woman who frightened easily.
I looked at the photograph again.
Vincent Vance had supposedly moved overseas almost ten years earlier.
At least, that was what everyone had been told.
“What was Vincent doing in your house at three in the morning?”
Roger shook his head.
“I don’t know.”
Bertha whispered, “I do.”
Every face turned toward her.
Derek stood abruptly.
“Mom.”
“Sit down.”
“Don’t say anything.”
Bertha looked at her son.
For the first time, the arrogance was gone.
“You should have stopped when Arianne found the accounts.”
“Mom, stop.”
“You promised me nobody would get hurt.”
Roger stared at them.
“What are you talking about?”
Derek headed toward the door again.
Security blocked him.
“Move.”
Nobody moved.
Bertha covered her face.
“Vincent has the flash drive.”
I walked toward her.
“Why?”
She looked up.
“Because Derek wasn’t moving money for himself.”
I stopped.
Roger’s voice came from behind me.
“Then who was he moving it for?”
Bertha looked at her husband.
“Your brother.”
Roger staggered backward.
“No.”
“Yes.”
“Vincent hasn’t been involved with this company in years.”
“You think he hasn’t.”
Roger’s face changed.
Bertha continued.
“He never really left.”
I remembered what Arianne had said.
Shipment numbers.
Drivers.
Northstar.
Marcus Reed.
“What were they using my trucks for?”
Bertha stared at me.
“I don’t know.”
“Don’t lie to me.”
“I don’t know everything.”
“What happened to Marcus Reed?”
Her eyes widened.
That reaction was enough.
“You know that name.”
Bertha stood.
“No.”
“Yes, you do.”
Derek shouted from across the room.
“Don’t answer him!”
Roger turned on his son.
“Why?”
Derek said nothing.
Roger walked toward him.
“Why shouldn’t she answer?”
Derek backed away.
“Dad—”
“What happened to that driver?”
“I don’t know.”
Roger grabbed the front of his son’s shirt.
“What have you dragged this family into?”
Security moved forward, but I raised a hand.
Roger released him himself.
Derek straightened his jacket.
Then he looked at me.
“You should have stayed in your garage, old man.”
I stared at him.
“You should have stayed away from my daughter.”
His face twisted.
“You think this is about Arianne?”
“No.”
I stepped closer.
“But that’s where you made your mistake.”
Derek laughed bitterly.
“You still don’t get it.”
“Then explain it.”
He leaned closer.
“Your daughter wasn’t supposed to find anything.”
Roger closed his eyes.
Bertha whispered, “Derek.”
But he was past listening.
“She couldn’t leave things alone.”
I felt my anger rising.
“She found out you were stealing.”
“No.”
“Then what?”
Derek looked around the room.
And smiled.
It was a terrible smile.
“Ask your missing driver.”
My entire body went cold.
“Where is Marcus?”
Derek said nothing.
“WHERE IS HE?”
The boardroom doors opened.
Two investigators entered.
Derek’s smile vanished.
One walked directly toward him.
“Derek Vance?”
He didn’t answer.
“We need to speak with you regarding an ongoing investigation.”
Derek looked toward his mother.
Bertha looked away.
Then the second investigator approached me.
“Mr. Baldric?”
“Yes.”
“We received information concerning your employee Marcus Reed.”
My heart began pounding.
“What information?”
He lowered his voice.
“His disappearance may be connected to several unauthorized shipments made through your logistics network.”
“Do you know where he is?”
“We may.”
“Alive?”
The investigator hesitated.
“We don’t know.”
“Where?”
He glanced toward Derek.
“A warehouse outside Springfield.”
My phone rang.
Unknown number.
Jonathan looked at it.
“Don’t answer.”
Something made me ignore him.
I picked up.
“Hello?”
Silence.
Then a man spoke.
An older man.
Calm.
Almost amused.
“Baldric.”
I knew immediately this wasn’t a random call.
“Who is this?”
“You already know.”
I looked at the photograph on Jonathan’s phone.
Vincent.
“Where is Marcus Reed?”
The man chuckled.
“You always were impatient.”
“Where is he?”
“Your driver became curious.”
My blood went cold.
“So did your daughter.”
I stood perfectly still.
“If you go near Arianne—”
“You misunderstand.”
Vincent’s voice remained calm.
“I don’t need to go near her.”
“Then what do you want?”
“The emergency provisions reversed.”
“No.”
“You haven’t heard the offer.”
“I don’t care.”
“You should.”
There was movement on the other end of the line.
Then another voice.
Weak.
Male.
“Mr. Baldric?”
My heart stopped.
“Marcus?”
“I’m sorry.”
“Marcus, where are you?”
Before he could answer, Vincent returned.
“You have one hour.”
The call ended.
Everyone was staring at me.
Daniel—one of the investigators—stepped closer.
“Who was that?”
I looked at the photograph again.
Then at Derek.
Then at Bertha.
“Vincent Vance.”
Roger went pale.
“What did he say?”
I slipped my phone into my pocket.
“He has Marcus Reed.”
Roger sank into a chair.
But Jonathan was watching Derek.
“Mr. Vance?”
Derek looked at him.
Jonathan pointed toward Derek’s jacket.
“What is that?”
Derek looked down.
A tiny red light was blinking beneath the fabric near his chest.
One of the investigators moved immediately.
“Don’t touch it.”
Derek froze.
The investigator carefully opened the jacket.
Clipped inside was a small electronic device.
A transmitter.
Derek stared at it.
“I didn’t put that there.”
Bertha stood.
“What is it?”
The investigator looked at the device.
Then at Derek.
“It appears someone has been listening to this meeting.”
The room went completely silent.
My phone buzzed again.
This time it was a text.
One photograph.
Marcus Reed.
Alive.
Tied to a chair.
Behind him was a warehouse wall with a faded Northstar Freight logo.
Beneath the photograph were seven words:
YOU BUILT THE EMPIRE.
NOW COME SAVE HIM.
I stared at the screen.
Then another message arrived.
This one contained an address.
And one final warning.
COME ALONE OR YOUR DRIVER DOESN’T LEAVE.
I looked at Jonathan.
He immediately shook his head.
“Baldric, absolutely not.”
But I wasn’t looking at him anymore.
I was looking at the faded Northstar logo behind Marcus.
Because I recognized that warehouse.
I had bought it twenty-two years earlier.
And there was something Vincent Vance didn’t know about that building.
Something I had installed before he ever learned how to use my company’s trucks.
I looked toward the investigators.
“I know exactly where he is.”
“And?”
I picked up my keys.
“There’s a way inside Vincent doesn’t know exists.”
