Chapter 8 - The Price of Protection
The officer's name was Daniel Cross.
For six years, Olivia had believed he had retired.
He hadn't.
He had been promoted.
He now worked in a division that handled financial crimes.
Adrian found him within hours.
But Cross had already disappeared.
His office was empty.
His files were gone.
Only one thing remained.
A photograph of Olivia.
Taken the night she ran from Felix.
Adrian stared at it.
“He's been watching you.”
Olivia looked at him.
“Why?”
“Because you're the last person connected to the evidence.”
“What evidence?”
Ryan placed the black ledger on the table.
“Everything Thomas wanted.”
Olivia opened it.
One name appeared repeatedly.
Daniel Cross.
Payments.
Meetings.
Transfers.
Then another name.
Felix Kesler.
Then her mother's.
Olivia felt sick.
“Everyone was involved.”
“Not everyone,” Adrian said.
She looked at him.
“Who wasn't?”
“Your father.”
“And you?”
“I wasn't.”
Ryan looked at Adrian.
“He was protecting Dad.”
Olivia finally understood.
Adrian had never been the threat.
He had been the shield.
The man she had accidentally called had spent years trying to keep her family alive.
That night, Olivia sat beside the window.
Adrian stood behind her.
“Why did you answer?”
She smiled faintly.
“You mean the phone?”
“Yes.”
“I thought it was Ryan.”
Adrian nodded.
“I know.”
“I almost hung up.”
“You should have.”
She looked at him.
“Then I would have died.”
Adrian said nothing.
Olivia studied him.
“Why did you tell me to stay?”
“Because I knew Felix would find you.”
“How?”
“Because Thomas told me.”
She froze.
“Thomas contacted you?”
“Yes.”
“When?”
“Before you ever called.”
Olivia stood.
“Then why didn't you stop him?”
“Because I needed him to believe I was still working for him.”
She stared.
“You were undercover?”
“Not exactly.”
“Then what?”
Adrian stepped closer.
“Your father built a private network to expose the people who were stealing from him.”
Olivia looked at the ledger.
“That's what this is.”
“Yes.”
“Why did he trust you?”
“Because I saved your life once.”
She frowned.
“When?”
Adrian looked at her.
“You were sixteen.”
Olivia's eyes widened.
She remembered.
A car had followed her after school.
Someone had pulled her into an alley.
A stranger had appeared.
She had never seen his face.
But she remembered his voice.
Stay there.
Olivia stared at him.
“That was you.”
Adrian nodded.
Her eyes filled with tears.
“You've been protecting me for fourteen years.”
“Yes.”
“Why didn't you tell me?”
“Because your father asked me not to.”
She looked down.
“Why?”
“Because knowing about me would make you a target.”
Olivia laughed softly through tears.
“And now?”
“Now you're already a target.”
They stood in silence.
Then Ryan entered.
“We found Cross.”
Adrian turned.
“Where?”
“Police archive building.”
They arrived minutes later.
Cross was waiting.
He wasn't running.
He sat at a desk with his hands folded.
“You finally came.”
Olivia stepped forward.
“You killed my father.”
Cross looked at her.
“No.”
“Then who did?”
He looked toward Adrian.
“Ask him.”
Adrian's expression changed.
“What are you talking about?”
Cross smiled.
“Your father wasn't murdered by Thomas.”
Olivia froze.
Cross continued.
“He died because he trusted the wrong person.”
Ryan whispered:
“Who?”
Cross looked at Olivia.
Then he said:
“Your mother.”
Olivia shook her head.
“She didn't kill him.”
Cross smiled.
“No.”
He slid a document across the table.
“She didn't.”
The document showed a medical report.
Cause of death.
Poisoning.
Olivia stared.
Her father had not been shot.
He had been poisoned.
And the final signature belonged to the doctor who had treated him.
That doctor was still practicing.
In Chicago.
Cross stood.
“You've been looking for the wrong killer.”
Then the building alarm sounded.
Red lights flashed.
Cross disappeared through a side door.
Adrian chased him.
Olivia followed.
They reached the stairwell.
A door slammed below.
Then Cross's voice echoed upward.
“You should ask your mother who prescribed the poison.”
Olivia stopped.
Her phone rang.
Her mother.
Olivia answered.
“Mom?”
Her mother's voice whispered:
“I know who killed your father.”
A pause.
May you like
Then:
“And it wasn't Thomas.”
