Chapter 2 - Nathan locked the penthouse doors.Then he locked them again.
The panic room beneath the library had survived every renovation his father had made to the apartment.
Nathan had never used it.
Tonight, he found himself wondering why.
Maggie stood across from him while he examined the brass key.
“Where did you get this?”
“My husband gave it to me.”
“Before he died?”
“Yes.”
Nathan looked at the scratches.
9-1-7.
“Why give you a security key instead of taking whatever he found to the police?”
“Because he didn't trust the police.”
Nathan slowly lifted his eyes.
“Who did he trust?”
“You.”
The answer surprised him.
“Thomas trusted me?”
“He trusted your father.”
Maggie's voice softened.
“He told me Marcus Vale wasn't like the people around him.”
Nathan gave a bitter laugh.
“You didn't know my father.”
“Neither did you.”
Nathan looked away.
That sentence hurt more than it should have.
His father had been dead fifteen years, yet every important part of Nathan's life still seemed to orbit him.
Nathan walked to the library.
He stopped before a painting of Marcus Vale standing beside a ship.
Maggie pointed toward it.
“Move it.”
Nathan did.
A steel panel was hidden behind the frame.
His pulse quickened.
He entered his father's birthday.
Wrong.
He tried Nathan's birthday.
Wrong.
Maggie watched him.
“Try 917.”
He did.
The panel clicked.
A narrow compartment opened.
Inside was a black metal box.
Nathan's throat tightened.
He carried it onto the desk.
There was no combination lock.
Only a handwritten note.
For my son. Open only when the harbor comes back for you.
Nathan stared at the words.
“Did you know this was here?”
“Yes.”
“You knew about this safe for years?”
“Yes.”
“And you never opened it?”
“No.”
“Why?”
“Because it wasn't mine.”
Nathan lifted the lid.
Inside was a leather ledger.
Several photographs.
A small flash drive.
And a newspaper clipping.
The headline read:
DOCKWORKER KILLED IN VALE HARBOR ACCIDENT
Thomas Rowe.
Nathan read the article.
The machinery failure had killed Thomas instantly.
Case closed.
Then he noticed the photograph underneath.
Thomas stood beside Nathan's father.
Behind them was a warehouse door marked:
17
Nathan looked at Maggie.
She said nothing.
Nathan opened the ledger.
The first pages contained shipping numbers.
Dates.
Payments.
Names.
Then he saw something that made his blood run cold.
One name appeared on eleven separate pages.
OWEN BRIGGS.
Nathan stopped breathing.
His security chief had worked for the Vale family for nineteen years.
“Maybe it's another Owen Briggs,” Nathan said.
Maggie shook her head.
“It's him.”
Nathan's phone rang.
The screen showed Owen's name.
Nathan answered.
“Where are you?”
A pause.
Then Owen said,
“Don't trust the woman sitting beside you.”
Nathan stared at Maggie.
Owen continued.
“She killed your father.”
The line went dead.
Nathan lowered the phone.
Maggie didn't move.
“Is it true?” Nathan asked.
“No.”
“How do you know?”
“Because your father wasn't killed.”
Nathan's eyes narrowed.
“What?”
Maggie looked at the ledger.
“Your father disappeared.”
Nathan felt the room tilt.
“That isn't what I was told.”
“I know.”
“My family said he died.”
“They needed you to believe that.”
Nathan stepped backward.
“Why?”
Maggie reached for the ledger.
Before she could touch it, the building lights went out.
Complete darkness.
Then every elevator in the building began moving at once.
Nathan heard mechanical cables humming inside the walls.
Maggie whispered,
“They've found us.”
Nathan grabbed his gun.
“Who?”
Maggie looked toward the door.
“The people who have spent twelve years making sure you never met your father again.”
A red emergency light appeared.
Then the library door opened.
Nobody stood outside.
Nathan aimed his weapon.
Maggie grabbed his wrist.
“Don't.”
“What?”
“Listen.”
Footsteps echoed through the apartment.
Slow.
Measured.
Coming from the dining room.
Nathan looked toward the hall.
A shadow moved across the wall.
Then a man's voice spoke from the darkness.
“Nathan.”
Nathan froze.
He knew that voice.
It was his godfather.
The man who had just called him less than an hour earlier.
“Come out, son.”
Maggie whispered,
“That's not your godfather.”
Nathan turned toward her.
May you like
“How do you know?”
“Because he's supposed to be dead.”
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