Chapter 3 - The Accountant Who Was Supposed to Be Dead
Nico killed every interior light in the house.
Darkness swallowed the study.
“Rosa,” he said into his phone. “Safe room. Now.”
His voice did not rise.
That made everything worse.
Luca pulled up another camera.
The black vehicle continued toward the house.
I stood behind Nico, my heart beating so loudly I could hear it.
“Who is that?”
“We’re going to find out.”
“You say that like this happens regularly.”
“It doesn’t.”
“Wonderful. I’m breaking new ground.”
Even then, Nico glanced back at me.
“You joke when you’re afraid.”
“I joke when I’m awake.”
The vehicle stopped fifty yards from the front entrance.
Nothing happened.
Nobody got out.
Nico watched for thirty seconds.
Then one minute.
Luca leaned toward the screen.
“Plate is fake.”
“Thermal?”
“Running.”
A second image appeared.
Empty front seats.
Empty rear seats.
I blinked.
“There’s nobody in it.”
“No,” Nico said.
“Then why—”
A phone rang.
Not Nico’s.
Not mine.
A landline on the study desk.
Nico stared at it.
“Who has this number?” I asked.
“Four people.”
“Are any of them currently trying to terrify us?”
He picked up.
No greeting.
A distorted voice spoke through the receiver.
“You took something that doesn’t belong to you.”
Nico looked at the lockbox.
“What do you want?”
“The waitress.”
My blood went cold.
Nico’s eyes lifted toward me.
“No.”
The voice continued.
“She doesn’t understand what she has.”
“Neither do you, apparently.”
A pause.
“Give us Sienna Brooks and the card. This ends.”
Nico’s face changed.
It was subtle.
But the man who had almost smiled when I poked him vanished.
“No one takes anyone from my house.”
The caller laughed softly.
“You sound like your father.”
Nico became very still.
Then the line disconnected.
I looked at him.
“That sounded personal.”
“It was.”
“Who?”
“I don’t know.”
“Do people usually mention your father when threatening you?”
“Only people who knew him.”
Luca’s phone buzzed.
He checked it.
“Vehicle is rigged.”
“With what?”
He looked at me.
“Tracking equipment. Cameras.”
“They drove an empty surveillance car into your driveway?”
Nico nodded slowly.
“They wanted us focused outside.”
The realization arrived at the same moment.
A sound came from upstairs.
Not loud.
A floorboard.
Nico turned.
Luca reached beneath his jacket.
Nico held up a hand.
“No shooting unless necessary.”
I looked between them.
“You know, I really appreciated that sentence.”
He moved me behind the desk.
“Stay here.”
“That instruction has a terrible success rate with me.”
His eyes locked with mine.
“Sienna.”
This time I listened.
Nico and Luca left the study.
I crouched beside the desk.
Seconds passed.
Then a minute.
The house was silent.
My phone vibrated.
Unknown number.
I almost ignored it.
Then another message appeared.
You served me coffee.
My breath stopped.
Another message.
Do not trust anyone in that house.
Martin.
I typed.
Where are you?
The reply came immediately.
Closer than Nico thinks.
Footsteps sounded in the hallway.
I shoved the phone against my chest.
Nico entered alone.
“Luca found an open service door.”
“Was someone inside?”
“Possibly.”
“Possibly is not comforting.”
He noticed my face.
“What happened?”
I hesitated.
That hesitation answered him.
“What did you get?”
I showed him the phone.
His eyes hardened.
“Call the number.”
I did.
Disconnected.
“Can you trace it?”
“Luca can try.”
I pulled my phone back.
“Wait.”
Nico looked at me.
“The receipt said not to trust you. Martin just said not to trust anyone in this house.”
“Yes.”
“And your first instinct is to hand my phone to Luca.”
Nico said nothing.
“You told me someone inside your organization is compromised.”
“Yes.”
“Luca is inside your organization.”
“He has been beside me for fourteen years.”
“That doesn’t make him innocent.”
Nico stared at me.
For the first time, I saw something difficult behind his eyes.
Not anger.
Conflict.
“You suspect him?”
“I suspect everyone.”
“Including me?”
“Especially you.”
That almost earned another smile.
“Good.”
“Good?”
“If you blindly trusted me because I carried you through a hallway, I’d be worried about your judgment.”
“I poked you twice.”
“Exactly.”
The tension loosened for half a second.
Then Nico’s phone buzzed.
A security report.
“No intruder found.”
“Then what opened the door?”
“We’ll find out.”
I looked at the lockbox.
“We need to open Martin’s card.”
“Agreed.”
“Tonight.”
“No.”
“Why?”
“Because somebody just reached my estate.”
“Which is exactly why we need answers.”
“The building Elias mentioned could be a trap.”
“So could your house.”
Nico’s jaw tightened.
He hated when I was right.
I was beginning to enjoy it.
By three forty-five, we had a plan.
Luca would remain at the estate with Rosa and security.
Nico and I would take a different vehicle to Martin’s former office near the river.
I objected to bringing me.
Nico objected to leaving me.
Apparently I was now valuable enough to become a logistical nightmare.
We changed clothes before leaving.
Rosa found me jeans, sneakers, and a dark sweater belonging to her niece.
My waitress uniform went into a bag.
I stared at the rose-pink apron.
Less than three hours earlier, I had been annoyed by its stupid bow.
Now it had carried something people were willing to kill for.
I folded it carefully.
Rosa watched me.
“You trust him?”
I looked toward the door.
“Nico?”
She nodded.
“I don’t know.”
“That’s probably wise.”
“You work for him.”
“I helped raise him.”
That surprised me.
“How long?”
“Since he was eight.”
“What was he like?”
“Too serious.”
“That hasn’t changed.”
“He smiled more.”
I looked toward the hallway again.
“His father?”
Rosa’s expression tightened.
“A hard man.”
“That’s polite.”
“I’m old enough to choose politeness when truth is ugly.”
I liked that too.
“Did Nico become like him?”
“No.”
She answered too quickly for doubt.
“He spent his adult life trying not to.”
“Then why let everyone believe he’s dangerous?”
Rosa smiled sadly.
“Because sometimes looking dangerous keeps worse men away.”
Before I could ask more, Nico appeared.
Different clothes.
Black coat.
No tie.
Still unfairly intimidating.
“Ready?”
“No.”
“Good enough.”
The drive toward the river took fifteen minutes.
No one followed.
At least none that we saw.
Martin’s former office occupied the third floor of an old commercial building over a closed printing company.
Nico unlocked the exterior door.
“How do you have a key?”
“I own the building.”
“Of course you do.”
He almost smiled.
We climbed the stairs.
The office looked abandoned.
Dust.
Old desks.
Empty filing cabinets.
I remembered Elias’s instructions.
Third office.
North wall.
Electrical plate beneath the window.
Nico removed the screws.
Behind the plate was a small metal device with a card slot.
“You missed that?”
“Yes.”
“I’m going to enjoy telling people.”
“Please survive first.”
“Controlling.”
“Persistent.”
He inserted Martin’s card.
The device powered on.
A tiny display requested six numbers.
I frowned.
“Elias didn’t give us a code.”
“No.”
My phone vibrated.
Another unknown message.
The code is the amount of my first Vesper audit.
I showed Nico.
He knew immediately.
“419872.”
He entered it.
The screen flashed.
Unlocked.
A hidden drive appeared on the laptop we had brought.
Folders filled the screen.
Hundreds.
Financial statements.
Photographs.
Audio recordings.
Names.
Nico stopped breathing.
“What?”
He clicked one folder.
The label was simple.
VALENTE, ANTHONY — 2014
“Your father?”
“Yes.”
Inside were scanned documents.
Payments.
Shell corporations.
Bank transfers.
Then photographs.
Nico’s father meeting city officials.
Business owners.
Police officers.
People I did not know.
One face appeared repeatedly beside him.
A younger man with blond hair and a narrow smile.
“Who is that?”
Nico’s expression went cold.
“Graham Voss.”
“Who?”
“My father’s lawyer.”
“Still alive?”
“Yes.”
“Still working for you?”
Nico looked at me.
“He runs my legal division.”
My stomach dropped.
The insider.
Maybe.
We opened another file.
Recent dates.
Large transfers moving through Vesper-related accounts into offshore companies.
Nico’s name appeared on authorization forms.
His signature.
He stared.
“I didn’t sign these.”
“Forgeries?”
“Yes.”
“Can you prove that?”
“I can.”
I scrolled.
Then stopped.
One folder carried my name.
BROOKS, SIENNA
My fingers went numb.
“Nico.”
He saw it.
“Don’t open it.”
I laughed nervously.
“You’re kidding.”
“Sienna.”
“That is literally my name.”
“We don’t know what’s inside.”
“That hasn’t stopped us so far.”
I clicked.
Photographs filled the screen.
Me walking to work.
Me buying groceries.
Me entering my apartment.
Maya and me eating tacos outside a food truck.
Dates going back four months.
Long before I met Martin.
Long before I poked Nico.
I stepped backward.
“Why has someone been watching me?”
Nico’s face was pale with anger.
“I don’t know.”
Another document.
My employment application at Vesper.
Someone had written a note beside it.
PLACEMENT CONFIRMED. KEEP HER NEAR VALENTE.
I stared at Nico.
“What does that mean?”
He did not answer.
A sound came from behind us.
A slow clap.
We turned.
Martin Keller stood in the office doorway.
Alive.
He looked exactly as I remembered.
Gray suit.
Wire-rim glasses.
Scar beneath his ear.
Only now he held a small pistol pointed toward the floor.
Nico moved slightly in front of me.
Martin smiled without humor.
“Still protecting people before asking why they were put in your path, Nico.”
Nico’s voice went quiet.
“Explain.”
Martin looked at me.
“I’m sorry, Sienna.”
“For what?”
“You were never randomly hired at Vesper.”
My mouth went dry.
“Then why was I hired?”
Martin reached into his jacket and pulled out a photograph.
He slid it across the desk.
I looked down.
A young woman stood beside Nico’s father twenty-eight years ago.
She had chestnut-brown hair.
Brown eyes.
My eyes.
My mother.
May you like
And someone had written three words beneath her photograph.
THE BROOKS PROBLEM.
