Chapter 7 - The Warehouse
At 11:58 p.m., James walked into the warehouse alone.
Or appeared to.
Rain hammered the roof.
Richard waited beneath a hanging industrial light with four armed men.
Evelyn sat in a chair.
James stopped.
Five years vanished.
She was thinner.
Her black hair had been cut to her shoulders.
Bruises marked one side of her face.
But she was alive.
Evelyn looked up.
Their eyes met.
Neither spoke.
Richard smiled.
“Touching.”
James held up the ledger.
“Let her go.”
“First the book.”
“No.”
Richard laughed.
“You still negotiate like your father.”
“And you still hide behind other men.”
Richard's smile disappeared.
Evelyn whispered, “James, don't.”
He looked at her.
Something passed between them.
Trust.
It shouldn't have survived five years.
Somehow it had.
Richard extended his hand.
“The ledger.”
James tossed it across the concrete.
Richard caught it.
He flipped through several pages.
Satisfied.
“Now Evelyn.”
Richard looked almost amused.
“You really don't remember me very well.”
James's eyes hardened.
“I remember enough.”
Richard pulled a gun.
Evelyn closed her eyes.
Then every light in the warehouse died.
Gunfire erupted.
James dropped.
Victor's team entered through three points.
A bullet shattered the chair beside Evelyn.
James crossed the distance under cover and threw himself over her.
“Can you walk?”
“Yes.”
“Stay behind me.”
They moved.
Richard escaped toward a rear loading dock.
Victor shouted, “James!”
But James wasn't chasing him.
Not tonight.
He lifted Evelyn into his arms.
Her head fell against his chest.
“You came.”
James looked down.
“I should've come five years ago.”
“You didn't know.”
“I should have known.”
Outside, federal vehicles surrounded the property.
Evelyn stared.
“You called them?”
James nodded.
“The ledger was copied.”
A faint smile appeared.
“You finally learned not to do everything yourself.”
James almost laughed.
“I had a good teacher.”
Her smile faded.
“Luna?”
“Safe.”
“Does she—”
“She thinks you're dead.”
Evelyn broke.
James held her tighter.
“Not for much longer.”
At the hospital, doctors treated dehydration, malnutrition, fractures and poisoning.
James refused to leave.
At dawn, Luna arrived with Hannah.
The little girl walked into the hospital room.
She stopped.
Evelyn opened her eyes.
“Moonbeam?”
Luna screamed.
“Mommy!”
She ran.
Evelyn pulled her into her arms.
Both cried so hard neither could speak.
James stood near the doorway.
He didn't belong inside that moment.
Not yet.
Then Luna reached one hand toward him.
“Daddy.”
James froze.
“Come here.”
Evelyn looked at him.
James approached slowly.
Luna grabbed his hand and pulled.
For the first time, the three of them touched.
Evelyn studied him.
“You really don't remember?”
“Pieces.”
“Do you remember our first date?”
“No.”
“Our wedding?”
“Fragments.”
“When Luna was conceived?”
Victor coughed loudly from the hallway.
James almost smiled.
“No.”
Evelyn's tired eyes sparkled.
“Maybe that one is better forgotten.”
James laughed.
A real laugh.
Luna looked delighted.
Then Victor appeared.
The moment ended.
“James.”
His expression told James everything.
“Richard?”
“Gone.”
James stepped into the hallway.
“How?”
“He had help.”
“Who?”
Victor handed him a surveillance image.
Rebecca.
James stared.
“She helped him escape?”
“Looks that way.”
James's jaw tightened.
Then Victor continued.
“There is something worse.”
He showed James a second document.
The ledger recovered from Richard was fake.
James had expected that.
But Victor pointed to a transaction.
A recent one.
Three million dollars.
Recipient:
Rebecca Hartwell.
James looked toward Evelyn's room.
“Rebecca told us she helped Evelyn escape.”
“Maybe she did.”
“Or maybe she wanted us to believe it.”
Victor nodded.
James returned to Evelyn.
“There's something I need to ask you.”
She saw the photograph.
“Rebecca?”
“Yes.”
Evelyn's expression changed.
“She saved Luna and me once.”
James stopped.
“What?”
“The night Richard found us after the crash. Rebecca warned me.”
“Why?”
“I don't know.”
James thought of five years of lies.
Nothing was simple anymore.
Then Evelyn said quietly:
“James, Rebecca wasn't the person who poisoned me.”
“Who was?”
“I never saw his face.”
“But?”
“He wore a Thornton family ring.”
James looked at his own hand.
Only three such rings existed.
One belonged to him.
One to Richard.
And the third—
James turned toward Victor.
Victor's face went still.
May you like
Because the third ring belonged to the one man everyone had believed dead for seven years.
James's father.
