Chapter 6 - THE WOMAN WHO STOLE HER FACE
Arthur reached Paige's apartment too late.
The door was open.
A lamp lay broken.
Paige was gone.
On the kitchen table sat her gray cardigan.
And a photograph.
Evelyn Doyle smiled beside Arthur when they were teenagers.
Arthur had not seen that face since he was twenty-four.
Leo studied the photograph.
“You never told me about her.”
“There was nothing to tell.”
“That usually means there's everything to tell.”
Arthur ignored him.
Evelyn had been Patrick's daughter.
Arthur's childhood friend.
His first kiss.
And eventually the woman he believed had died in a fire six months after Patrick's death.
Now she was alive.
And she had Paige.
Arthur's phone rang.
“Hello, Arthur.”
Evelyn's voice.
He closed his eyes.
“Where is Paige?”
A laugh.
“Not even hello?”
“Where is she?”
“You really do care about her.”
Arthur's hand tightened.
“If you hurt her—”
“You'll what? Kill me?”
A pause.
“My father spent his entire life protecting Gallaghers. Look where it got him.”
“Patrick killed my father.”
“Because Rourke made him.”
“He still chose.”
“So did yours.”
Arthur froze.
“What?”
“Come to the old Doyle house. Alone.”
The line died.
Arthur looked at Leo.
“No.”
“I haven't said anything.”
“You have the face.”
Arthur took his coat.
The Doyle house had been empty for years.
Inside, Paige sat tied to a dining chair.
Evelyn stood behind her.
Arthur stopped.
Paige looked furious rather than frightened.
“You took your time.”
Relief almost buckled him.
Evelyn laughed.
“She has absolutely no survival instinct.”
Arthur looked at Paige.
“I'm aware.”
Evelyn placed a folder on the table.
“Your father wasn't innocent.”
Arthur opened it.
Thomas Gallagher had discovered the theft earlier than the letter suggested.
Instead of immediately exposing Patrick and Rourke, he had attempted to use the information to force them out and seize their routes.
The confrontation escalated.
Thomas died because of it.
Not innocent.
Not deserving death.
But not the spotless victim Arthur had imagined.
Evelyn watched him.
“Our fathers built monsters and handed us the consequences.”
“Then why work for Rourke?”
“Because I wanted him close enough to destroy.”
Paige stared at her.
“You framed me.”
“I needed Arthur to stop trusting everyone.”
“He already did that professionally.”
Despite herself, Evelyn smiled.
Arthur stepped closer.
“Release her.”
Evelyn did.
Paige stood and immediately walked toward Arthur.
Then stopped three feet away.
Arthur noticed.
So did she.
He closed the distance himself.
He touched her cheek.
“Are you hurt?”
“No.”
His thumb moved once beneath her eye.
Evelyn looked away.
Arthur lowered his hand.
“What does Rourke want now?”
“The evidence isn't enough,” Evelyn said. “Half those crimes are too old. Witnesses are dead. Records can be challenged.”
“What will work?”
“His current operation.”
She explained.
Rourke was moving millions through a supposedly legitimate waterfront redevelopment project.
The twenty-million-dollar contract waiting downstairs the day Paige fixed Arthur's tie had never been merely a contract.
It was a laundering mechanism.
Arthur's company was supposed to become the final link.
“That's why the gate was opened,” Leo said when Arthur called him.
Evelyn nodded.
“Rourke needed a security crisis so Arthur would rush the signing without examining the last amendments.”
Paige's eyes widened.
“The presentation.”
She remembered the documents.
A clause had been added at 7:42 that morning.
She had flagged it.
That was why the signing had been delayed.
Arthur stared at her.
“You saved me before you fixed my tie.”
“I sent you six emails.”
“I don't read your emails.”
Paige looked offended.
“I know. It's one of your worst qualities.”
Evelyn interrupted.
“Rourke knows the deal failed. He'll move tonight.”
“Where?”
“Pier Seventeen.”
Arthur reached for his phone.
Evelyn stopped him.
“One more thing.”
She looked at Paige.
“Rourke has someone inside the memory-care facility.”
Paige went pale.
Arthur immediately called security.
No answer.
They raced outside.
At the facility, Margaret's room was empty.
Again.
But this time there was no kidnapping.
A nurse showed Paige security footage.
Margaret had walked out willingly beside a man.
Paige stared at the screen.
“Who is that?”
Arthur recognized him.
His expression became disbelief.
The man beside Margaret was seventy years old.
Arthur had attended his funeral twenty years earlier.
“That's my father.”
Paige turned.
“What?”
May you like
Thomas Gallagher was alive.
And Margaret Bennett had remembered exactly who he was.
