Chapter 8 - What Malcolm TookThe harbor wind cut through my coat.
Malcolm kept the gun pointed at me.
“Open the case.”
I knelt.
Slowly.
Inside were Meridian's original files.
Or what appeared to be them.
The real documents were already in federal custody.
Malcolm didn't know that.
His eyes moved across the folders.
“You have no idea what your family cost me.”
“My father cost you?”
“Daniel was self-righteous.”
“You murdered him.”
Malcolm's expression barely changed.
“He made a choice.”
The words were enough.
A confession wasn't always dramatic.
Sometimes evil sounded administrative.
“You sabotaged his boat.”
“He intended to destroy everything we'd built.”
“We?”
For the first time, Malcolm hesitated.
There was someone else.
That was why the money trail never ended with him.
“Who?” I asked.
“Open the second folder.”
I did.
He stepped closer.
Too close.
“Now hand it to me.”
I lifted the folder.
Then a voice came from behind him.
“Drop the gun.”
Julian.
Malcolm spun.
A shot exploded.
I dropped.
Another shot followed from the far end of the pier.
Federal agents rushed from both sides.
Malcolm ran.
Julian collapsed.
“Julian!”
I crawled toward him.
Blood spread across his white shirt near his ribs.
His eyes found mine.
“That's going to ruin the suit.”
I almost screamed at him.
Instead, I pressed both hands against the wound.
“Stay awake.”
“I'm trying.”
“Julian.”
“Audrey.”
“What?”
“I am so sorry.”
“Not now.”
“I need—”
“You need to shut up.”
He smiled weakly.
That infuriating smile.
Sirens approached.
Behind us, agents tackled Malcolm before he reached the end of the pier.
His gun slid across wet concrete.
He was alive.
And arrested.
Julian survived too.
The bullet passed through his side without striking a major organ.
I sat outside surgery until sunrise.
Richard joined me.
“You love him,” he said.
I stared at the floor.
“That's not the same as trusting him.”
“No.”
“And loving someone doesn't mean you should stay married to them.”
“No.”
I looked at Richard.
“You're surprisingly sensible for a man who pretended to be dead for nine years.”
He almost smiled.
“I've had time to think.”
When Julian woke, I was beside him.
He looked surprised.
“You stayed.”
“Your father needed coffee.”
“Liar.”
“Don't push your luck.”
His expression softened.
“Did they get Malcolm?”
“Yes.”
“And the documents?”
“Safe.”
He closed his eyes.
“Good.”
I expected him to ask about us.
He didn't.
Instead he said, “The divorce papers are in my apartment.”
I stared at him.
“I signed them.”
That hurt in a way I hadn't anticipated.
“You did?”
“Yes.”
“You're not going to fight?”
“No.”
He looked at me.
“You asked to be free.”
Silence stretched between us.
“For once, I thought I should listen.”
I nodded.
“Thank you.”
His eyes glistened, but he smiled.
“You're welcome.”
Three weeks later, our divorce became final.
Malcolm Reed was indicted on fraud, conspiracy, attempted murder, obstruction, and multiple financial crimes. Investigators also reopened the circumstances surrounding my father's death.
But the biggest surprise came from the second name Malcolm had almost revealed.
Federal investigators traced payments through Switzerland, Delaware, and the Cayman Islands.
Eventually they found the controlling beneficiary.
It wasn't another Aurelia executive.
It was a Northstar director.
Someone who had attended my mother's funeral.
Someone who had hugged me beside her grave.
Margaret Sloan.
My godmother.
And unlike Malcolm, Margaret hadn't disappeared.
She was sitting inside my office when I arrived the next morning.
Waiting for me.
May you like
“Audrey,” she said.
“We need to talk about your mother.”
