Chapter 3 - WHAT HE NEVER KNEW
Arthur did not go to Clara.
It was possibly the most difficult order he had ever obeyed.
Instead, he sent Gregory to move her to a Costello-owned safe house in rural Michigan that Clara herself had selected years earlier.
The irony was not lost on anyone.
Especially Clara.
She walked through the cabin checking windows, exits, sight lines, and locks.
Gregory watched.
“You picked this place.”
“I remember.”
“You installed the security.”
“I remember.”
“You hid emergency weapons beneath the kitchen floor.”
Clara stopped.
“You found those?”
“No.”
“Good.”
Gregory blinked.
Clara continued walking.
Arthur remained three hundred miles away.
For forty-eight hours.
Then the first body appeared.
Leonard Price, a Costello accountant, was found dead inside his car.
A single envelope sat on the passenger seat.
Inside was a photograph of Clara.
Arthur stared at it.
On the back were six words.
GIVE US THE WOMAN OR BLEED.
Arthur summoned every senior lieutenant.
Nobody left the room for three hours.
The conclusion was ugly.
Vescari believed Clara possessed information capable of destroying him.
Arthur called Gregory.
“Ask Clara what she knows about Victor Vescari.”
“I already did.”
“And?”
“She said too much.”
Arthur almost smiled despite himself.
That sounded like Clara.
“Put her on.”
“No.”
Arthur went still.
“Excuse me?”
“She said she doesn’t want to speak to you.”
Arthur’s fingers tightened around the phone.
“Gregory.”
“I’m not getting between whatever this is.”
“You work for me.”
“Exactly. I’d like to remain alive.”
The line disconnected.
Arthur stared at the phone.
Nobody had hung up on him in twelve years.
Clara had apparently started a revolution.
At the cabin, Clara opened a secure laptop.
The answer was hidden in a file she had copied eighteen months earlier.
A shipping ledger.
Numbers Arthur had never seen.
Payments routed through Costello docks but not authorized by Costello Logistics.
Clara had assumed Arthur was hiding revenue.
Now she saw the pattern.
The money belonged to Vescari.
And somebody inside Arthur’s organization had been laundering it.
She traced authorization signatures.
One name appeared repeatedly.
Gregory leaned over her shoulder.
“Impossible.”
Clara stared at the screen.
“Apparently not.”
The authorization belonged to Dominic Costello.
Arthur’s uncle.
The man who had raised him after his father was murdered.
Dominic had supposedly retired years earlier.
“He’s been selling Arthur’s routes,” Clara whispered.
Gregory swore.
“And Vescari thinks you know.”
“I do now.”
“Arthur needs this.”
Clara’s expression hardened.
“Send him the file.”
“You should tell him yourself.”
“No.”
“Clara.”
“No.”
Gregory leaned against the table.
“He hasn’t slept.”
“That sounds like a scheduling problem.”
“He barely eats.”
“Hire a chef.”
“He fired four assistants.”
“Maybe Tuesday wasn’t realistic.”
Gregory laughed before he could stop himself.
Clara did not.
Then a sound came from outside.
A branch snapped.
Both froze.
Gregory reached for his gun.
Clara killed the lights.
Three red laser dots appeared against the opposite wall.
“Down!”
Gunfire shredded the windows.
Gregory dragged Clara behind the stone fireplace.
Glass exploded.
Clara crawled toward the kitchen.
“Floorboard!” she shouted.
Gregory understood.
He ripped up the loose plank.
Two pistols.
A shotgun.
Emergency ammunition.
“God bless your paranoia.”
“Arthur used to call it excessive.”
Another burst tore through the cabin.
Clara took a pistol.
“Back exit.”
“You stay here.”
“Gregory.”
“Right. Stupid suggestion.”
They moved together.
Outside, three armed men approached through the trees.
Gregory fired.
One dropped.
Clara reached the SUV.
The engine would not start.
“Fuel line!”
They had been sabotaged.
Then headlights appeared at the end of the road.
A convoy.
For one horrifying second Clara assumed more Vescari soldiers had arrived.
Then she recognized the first vehicle.
Arthur’s armored Cadillac.
It hit the attackers’ SUV hard enough to shove it into a ditch.
Doors opened.
Costello men poured out.
And Arthur emerged behind them.
No coat.
Black shirt.
Gun in hand.
His face was murderous.
“Clara!”
She had heard Arthur shout commands.
Threats.
Death sentences.
She had never heard her own name sound like fear.
One attacker raised his weapon toward her.
Arthur fired first.
The man collapsed.
Then Arthur crossed the yard.
Clara stepped backward.
He stopped immediately.
Ten feet between them.
Rain began falling.
Neither spoke.
Arthur looked different.
More tired.
There were shadows beneath his eyes.
His beard had grown rough along his jaw.
For years Clara had seen him perfectly controlled.
Now he looked like a man whose skin no longer fit.
His eyes traveled over her face, shoulders, arms.
Checking for injuries.
“You’re bleeding.”
Clara touched her temple.
Glass.
“I’m fine.”
Arthur moved instinctively toward her.
She stepped back again.
He stopped.
Something crossed his face.
Pain.
Real pain.
“I told you not to come.”
“I know.”
“You never listen.”
“I’m beginning to realize that.”
Gunfire sounded deeper in the trees.
Arthur’s men pursued the remaining attackers.
Clara folded her arms.
“Did you come to rescue your replaceable secretary?”
Arthur absorbed the hit without defending himself.
“No.”
“Then why?”
His throat worked.
“Because I heard gunfire over Gregory’s phone.”
“That isn’t an answer.”
“It’s the only one I have right now.”
She stared at him.
Arthur removed his jacket slowly and placed it over the hood of the disabled SUV rather than trying to put it around her.
“I’m sorry.”
Clara almost laughed.
Two words.
Five years too late.
“For what?”
Arthur’s face tightened.
“For saying you meant nothing.”
“Which part was the lie?”
“All of it.”
She looked away.
Arthur took a breath.
“I knew exactly how you felt.”
Her eyes snapped back.
He continued before courage failed him.
“That night. I knew.”
“Then why?”
“Because Dominic told me you were planning to leave.”
Clara froze.
“He showed me documents. Transfers. The passports.”
Arthur looked disgusted with himself.
“I thought you were preparing to betray me. And when you touched my hand…”
His voice dropped.
“I panicked.”
“So you humiliated me.”
“Yes.”
“You wanted to hurt me before I could hurt you.”
“Yes.”
Clara stared at him.
For once, Arthur did not hide behind authority.
“That isn’t love,” she said.
“No.”
His answer surprised her.
“It’s cowardice.”
Arthur nodded.
“Yes.”
Silence.
Then Clara walked toward the cabin.
Arthur did not follow.
At the doorway she stopped.
“Dominic is working with Vescari.”
Arthur’s face changed.
“What?”
“I have proof.”
Arthur looked toward the burning headlights beyond the trees.
The betrayal struck deep.
Clara understood why.
Dominic was family.
The closest thing Arthur had to a father.
She could have comforted him.
Once, she would have.
Instead she said, “The files are inside.”
Arthur nodded.
Clara disappeared through the door.
Gregory approached him.
“That went better than expected.”
Arthur slowly turned his head.
Gregory reconsidered.
“Or not.”
Arthur looked toward the doorway.
“Five years.”
“What?”
“She spent five years making my life possible.”
His voice was almost inaudible.
“And I made her believe she was disposable.”
Gregory said nothing.
Arthur stared into the dark cabin.
For the first time, he understood the real problem.
May you like
Finding Clara had been easy compared with what came next.
He had to become a man she would willingly stay for.
