Chapter 7 - The Enemy at the Table
His name was Victor Calder.
Sixty-three.
Founder of Calder Biomedical Logistics.
Philanthropist.
Hospital benefactor.
Federal contractor.
And, according to my father’s hidden ledger, the man who had moved dirty money between the Ferris and Pemberton organizations for nearly two decades.
“He was the banker,” Gideon said.
We were gathered in a secured conference room at Ferris Group.
Kyle sat beside me.
Alister sat across from us.
That arrangement had required an argument.
Gideon wanted him searched.
Alister wanted Gideon disarmed.
I wanted everyone to behave like adults.
Nobody got what they wanted.
Alister looked exhausted.
A bandage covered a cut along his temple from the attack that killed his driver.
“My father used Calder,” he said.
Gideon shook his head.
“Calder used your father.”
“You don’t know that.”
“I know Victor.”
“So did your father.”
“Yes.”
The words carried history.
I leaned forward.
“Stop.”
Both men looked at me.
“For one hour, neither of you gets to be the most powerful man in the room.”
Kyle muttered, “Good luck.”
I ignored him.
“My father found something. Something important enough to frighten Malcolm Pemberton, Gideon’s father and Victor Calder.”
Alister’s jaw tightened.
“Agreed.”
“Dad died. Six years later, Kyle’s company collapsed.”
Kyle looked up.
“What if that wasn’t random?”
Silence.
We examined the records from his failed Series B.
The lead investor who had withdrawn at the last minute was Halcyon Ventures.
Halcyon was partially funded by Calder.
Kyle went white.
“He destroyed my company.”
“To create pressure,” I said.
Alister looked at me.
“And I walked directly into it.”
That was the first moment I understood he had been manipulated too.
It did not excuse him.
He had still purchased Kyle’s debt.
Inflated it.
Used it to pressure me into marriage.
But somebody had placed every piece on the board.
“Victor knew you’d come after me,” I said.
Alister nodded slowly.
“My father had spent years telling me the Nash family was dangerous. So when Kyle’s company started collapsing, I became curious.”
“And when you discovered me?”
“I wanted access to Ferris.”
Gideon’s stare could have cut steel.
Alister ignored him.
“But Victor wanted me to want access.”
I thought about the cloned credentials.
“What if Victor’s people copied my credentials?”
Gideon frowned.
“At Alister’s house?”
Alister’s face changed.
“My chief of staff.”
“Who?”
“Marcus Vale.”
Gideon was already typing.
Marcus had worked for Alister for seven years.
Before that?
Calder Biomedical Logistics.
Everything clicked.
The surveillance.
The cloned credentials.
Kyle’s mechanic.
Marcus had recommended him.
The courier.
Campaign staff.
Access to the Hartwell suite.
Alister stood abruptly.
“Marcus has access to my father.”
“Where is Malcolm?” Gideon asked.
“My family estate in Marblehead.”
Gideon called security.
No answer.
Alister called his father.
No answer.
We drove north with six vehicles.
By the time we reached the Pemberton estate, the front gate was open.
Two guards were unconscious.
Malcolm Pemberton was missing.
Marcus had left one message on the dining-room table.
BRING THOMAS NASH’S ORIGINAL LEDGER.
MIDNIGHT.
ALONE.
Kyle stared at it.
“Classic.”
Gideon turned toward his men.
“Trace every—”
“No.”
Everyone looked at me.
I picked up the note.
“He wants the ledger.”
“Yes,” Gideon said.
“So we give it to him.”
“No.”
“That wasn’t a question.”
“Emery.”
“Marcus thinks I’m leverage. Victor thinks Alister is leverage. Everyone has spent six years treating me like something to move around a board.”
I looked at Gideon.
“I’m done.”
His eyes narrowed.
“What are you proposing?”
“A fake ledger.”
Alister understood first.
“With a tracker.”
“And a microphone.”
Kyle added, “And federal agents.”
Gideon looked like he hated every word.
Which meant it was probably good.
At 11:58 p.m., I entered an abandoned Calder distribution warehouse near the harbor.
Alone.
Technically.
Gideon was listening.
Federal agents were positioned outside.
Alister had been ordered to stay back.
He complained for twenty minutes.
Nobody cared.
Marcus waited beneath a warehouse light.
Malcolm Pemberton sat tied to a chair.
Victor Calder stood beside him.
Seeing Victor was almost disappointing.
He looked ordinary.
Gray suit.
Silver hair.
Grandfatherly face.
The kind of man hospitals put on donor walls.
“Emery Nash.”
His smile was warm.
“Your father had your courage.”
“You killed him.”
His smile weakened.
“No.”
I stopped.
“Malcolm did.”
Behind him, Alister’s father lifted his head.
“No,” Malcolm whispered.
Victor laughed.
“Still protecting yourself?”
Malcolm looked at me.
“Your father came to me with evidence. He wanted immunity. I refused.”
“Then what?”
“Victor found out.”
Victor’s face changed.
Just slightly.
Malcolm continued.
“He poisoned Thomas before the meeting ended.”
My eyes burned.
“You knew.”
“Yes.”
“And said nothing.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because the same evidence would have destroyed me.”
There it was.
Cowardice.
Not conspiracy.
Almost worse.
Victor extended his hand.
“The ledger.”
I held up the case.
“You destroyed Kyle’s company.”
“Yes.”
“You pushed Alister toward me.”
“Yes.”
“You ordered the crash.”
Marcus smiled.
“That was me.”
My body went cold.
“Why?”
“You were taking too long.”
Victor looked irritated.
“Marcus lacks patience.”
The confessions were pouring directly into federal recording systems.
I only needed another minute.
Then Marcus looked toward the ceiling.
His expression changed.
He reached beneath his jacket.
“Signal jammer.”
Everything went wrong.
Lights died.
Gunfire erupted.
Someone grabbed me.
I screamed.
Then a body struck the floor.
Emergency lights flashed red.
Gideon appeared through the darkness.
He had ignored every instruction to remain outside.
Of course he had.
Marcus raised his gun toward me.
Gideon fired first.
Marcus dropped.
Federal agents flooded the warehouse.
Victor ran.
He made it twenty feet.
Malcolm did not move.
Neither did I.
Gideon reached me.
“Are you hit?”
“No.”
He checked anyway.
Hands at my shoulders.
My face.
My arms.
Then he pulled me against him.
For the first time in five years, Gideon Ferris held me without restraint.
I buried my face against his chest.
“You were supposed to stay outside.”
“I lied.”
“I noticed.”
His heart was pounding.
So was mine.
Behind us, agents handcuffed Victor Calder.
Alister entered and ran to his father.
Kyle appeared seconds later.
Everyone was alive.
Not innocent.
Not safe from consequences.
But alive.
Gideon leaned his forehead against mine.
“I can’t do this again.”
“Do what?”
“Watch you walk into danger.”
I almost smiled.
“You’ll have to get used to it.”
“No.”
“Gideon.”
“Marry me.”
I froze.
He froze too.
Around us, federal agents were arresting people.
A crime scene photographer walked past.
Kyle said, very loudly, “This seems like a terrible time.”
Gideon closed his eyes.
May you like
I started laughing.
And somehow, in the middle of the worst night of my life, I couldn’t stop.
