Chapter 4 - THE GHOST AT THE DOORDaniel opened the door himself.
I wanted to stop him.
Instead, I stood frozen behind him.
An older man waited beneath the porch light.
Silver hair.
Weathered face.
A scar crossed his left eyebrow.
But his eyes—
My eyes.
He looked at me and began crying.
“Emily.”
I hated him immediately.
That was easier than admitting some seven-year-old part of me wanted to run into his arms.
“You don't get to say my name.”
His face crumpled.
“I know.”
“No, you don't.”
My mother moved beside me.
“Nathan.”
He looked at her as if twenty-three years disappeared.
“Hello, Helen.”
She slapped him.
Hard.
Daniel's security men suddenly became fascinated by the yard.
My father touched his cheek.
“I deserved that.”
“You deserved worse.”
“I know.”
“Stop saying that!”
My voice echoed through the house.
Everyone looked at me.
I was shaking.
“You were dead. Do you understand? Every birthday, every graduation, every Christmas—you were dead.”
Nathan's eyes filled.
“I watched what I could.”
That hurt more.
“You watched?”
“From far away.”
“You watched me grow up and never came?”
“If I'd returned, they would have found you.”
“Who?”
His gaze moved toward Daniel.
“The man who killed Thomas Brooks.”
Daniel became motionless.
“My father died in a boating accident.”
“No,” Nathan said. “He was murdered.”
The room changed.
Daniel's voice became dangerously quiet.
“Explain.”
Nathan entered.
On the kitchen table, he placed a battered leather notebook.
Not the ledger.
A journal.
Thomas Brooks's journal.
Daniel opened it.
Inside were dates, shipment numbers, initials and payments.
One set of initials appeared repeatedly.
R.V.
Daniel's expression darkened.
“Raymond Vale.”
I knew that name.
Everyone in Boston did.
Vale Holdings.
Hotels.
Real estate.
Charities.
Raymond Vale had spent decades cultivating the image of a respectable billionaire.
Nathan nodded.
“He was Thomas's partner.”
Daniel stared at the pages.
“And you think he killed him?”
“I know he did.”
“Proof?”
“The ledger.”
“Where?”
Nathan looked at me.
That frightened me more than anything.
“No.”
My voice came out barely audible.
Nathan continued.
“Thomas knew he was in danger. He gave me the original records. I hid them somewhere nobody connected to the organization would ever look.”
Daniel followed his gaze.
“You gave them to Emily?”
“She was seven.”
“What?”
Nathan closed his eyes.
“There was a children's book she carried everywhere. The Lighthouse at Winter Bay. I cut the center from the binding and placed a storage key inside.”
My memories flashed.
Blue cover.
Painted lighthouse.
My father reading it at bedtime.
After his funeral, I had slept with it under my pillow for months.
Then—
“My mother donated my childhood books.”
Helen shook her head.
“Not that one.”
I looked at her.
“You kept it?”
“In the attic.”
We found the book twelve minutes later.
The key was still inside.
Stamped on it were three numbers.
Daniel recognized them.
“Private vault company. Closed years ago.”
Nathan shook his head.
“The boxes were transferred when it closed.”
“To where?”
“Brooks Maritime storage.”
Daniel stared.
“My company?”
“Your father's company.”
Suddenly the impossible became simple.
Whatever evidence Nathan had hidden twenty-three years ago was sitting somewhere inside Daniel's empire.
And someone had discovered that I was the key to finding it.
Daniel's phone rang.
He answered.
Listened.
Then looked at Nathan.
“Someone broke into our South Harbor warehouse twenty minutes ago.”
Nathan went pale.
“They know.”
“How?”
No one answered.
Then I remembered Olivia.
She had arranged the date.
She had somehow contacted Daniel.
And Evan Shaw had appeared immediately afterward carrying the exact photograph she'd sent him.
“Olivia.”
Daniel looked at me.
“What about her?”
“She started this.”
Nathan frowned.
“Who's Olivia?”
“My friend.”
Daniel was already calling someone.
His expression changed after thirty seconds.
“What?”
I asked.
He ended the call.
“Olivia isn't at the Grand Oak anymore.”
“So?”
“Neither are the two women she came with.”
I grabbed my phone.
Three missed calls.
All from Olivia.
Then a message.
Emily, I'm sorry. I didn't know what they wanted.
Another arrived.
Please don't trust Daniel.
A third.
They have Megan.
I showed him.
Daniel read it.
Nathan swore quietly.
My phone rang.
Olivia.
I answered.
“Where are you?”
She was crying.
“Emily, listen to me.”
“What did you do?”
“I needed money.”
My anger disappeared beneath dread.
“What?”
“My brother owes people. A lot. A man offered me ten thousand dollars just to arrange a date.”
“With Daniel?”
“Yes.”
“Why me?”
“He specifically asked for you.”
Daniel heard.
His face hardened.
“Who?” I asked.
“I don't know. He called himself Mr. Shaw.”
Evan.
“What did he want?”
“He said Daniel had noticed you before and needed an excuse to meet you.”
Daniel shook his head.
A lie.
Olivia sobbed.
“I thought it was weird, but harmless. Then tonight they told me to keep you at the restaurant.”
“Why?”
“So they could search your apartment.”
My blood froze.
Daniel's security had checked my apartment.
Had they arrived too late?
“Where are you now?”
“I don't know.”
“What do you mean?”
“They put me in a car.”
Daniel took my phone.
“Olivia, listen carefully. Can you see anything?”
“A warehouse.”
“What do you hear?”
She struggled to breathe.
“Water. Boats.”
Daniel's eyes met Nathan's.
Boston Harbor.
Then another voice came through the phone.
Male.
Calm.
“Daniel.”
Daniel went still.
“Vale.”
Raymond Vale laughed softly.
“Bring Nathan Carter and the key to Pier Nineteen.”
Daniel's jaw tightened.
“And the women?”
“They go home.”
“If they're hurt—”
“Midnight.”
The call ended.
I looked at the clock.
10:41.
Nathan reached for the key.
Daniel stopped him.
“No.”
“My daughter is involved because of me.”
“And Vale expects us to panic.”
“He has three innocent women.”
“He wants the ledger more.”
I stared at Daniel.
“What are you saying?”
His gray eyes met mine.
“That we don't give him what he wants.”
“Then what happens to my friends?”
“Nothing.”
“How can you know?”
“Because we're going to get them first.”
I expected some reckless declaration.
Instead, Daniel opened his phone.
“Police?”
Nathan looked surprised.
Daniel nodded.
“Vale expects criminals.”
His gaze moved to me.
“So tonight, we disappoint him.”
For the first time, I understood something important about Daniel Brooks.
Power wasn't the ability to frighten people.
Sometimes power was knowing exactly when not to play by their rules.
And thirty minutes later, when we arrived at Boston Harbor, Daniel handed me a bulletproof vest.
“Stay in the car.”
“No.”
“Emily.”
“My friends are inside because of me.”
“No. They're inside because of Vale.”
I tightened the vest.
“And I'm still going.”
Daniel stared at me for several seconds.
Then sighed.
“This is why I don't date.”
Despite everything, I almost smiled.
We reached Pier Nineteen at 11:36.
The warehouse doors were open.
A single chair sat beneath a hanging light.
Olivia was tied to it.
Alone.
I stepped forward.
Daniel caught my arm.
Something was wrong.
Olivia lifted her head.
Her face was wet with tears.
“Emily…”
Then Daniel saw the wire beneath her chair.
His voice changed.
“Don't move.”
Olivia started sobbing.
“Daniel…”
He crouched.
I followed his gaze.
A small digital display blinked beneath the chair.
00:59.
00:58.
00:57.
May you like
And from somewhere in the dark warehouse, Raymond Vale's voice came through a speaker.
“Now let's see how much the bookstore girl is worth.”
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