Chapter 13 - Kent Ashby’s Final Bargain
My mother pointed the gun directly at my chest.
The second ledger rested beneath her other arm.
For six years, I had mourned her.
For less than one night, I had tried to understand why she had abandoned me.
Now I wondered whether I had ever known Elizabeth Bennett at all.
“Mom.”
“Don't move.”
Roman stepped slightly in front of me.
The gun immediately shifted toward him.
“Roman, don't.”
His voice remained calm.
“You're not going to shoot Claire.”
“You don't know what I'm going to do.”
“I know you spent seventeen years keeping her alive.”
My mother laughed bitterly.
“You think that makes me good?”
“No.”
Roman's answer was immediate.
“I think it makes you predictable.”
Her hand trembled.
Just once.
I saw it.
“Put the gun down,” I said.
“I can't.”
“Why?”
“Because once this ledger leaves my hands, people die.”
“People already died.”
Her face broke.
“I know.”
“My father.”
“Yes.”
“You gave Evelyn his location.”
“No.”
That stopped me.
“Evelyn said—”
“Evelyn gave them the address.”
“Because you told her.”
“Yes.”
The distinction didn't make me feel better.
“You knew they were coming.”
“I thought they were coming for documents.”
“That's what Evelyn said.”
“Because that's what I told her.”
Roman's expression changed.
“You were working with Harrow.”
My mother looked at him.
“Before it was called Harrow.”
The room went silent.
I remembered Evelyn's words.
The person who built Harrow before Adrian Mercer controlled it.
“You?”
My mother shook her head.
“No.”
“Then who?”
She looked down at the ledger.
“Daniel.”
My breath stopped.
“No.”
“Not the criminal network it became.”
“Explain.”
“Harrow began as a private system for tracking stolen money.”
Roman stared at her.
“Daniel built it?”
“Daniel, Evelyn, me, and three others. We were trying to identify where money from your father's businesses was disappearing.”
“My father was part of the investigation?”
“At first.”
Roman went still.
“At first?”
“He discovered how valuable the information was.”
I understood.
“And turned it into blackmail.”
“Yes.”
“Adrian Mercer?”
“He expanded it.”
“And Charles?”
“Helped him.”
My father hadn't discovered Harrow.
He had helped create the tool that later became Harrow.
That explained why everything seemed to lead back to him.
“He tried to destroy it.”
My mother's voice cracked.
“Once Daniel realized what they had turned it into, yes.”
“And you?”
“I tried to save him.”
“You lied to him.”
“Yes.”
“You gave away the first ledger.”
“Yes.”
“You let me believe you were dead.”
“Yes.”
Every answer hurt.
At least they were answers.
“Did you kill Dad?”
Her face crumpled.
“No.”
“Did you order it?”
“No.”
“Do you know who did?”
She looked at the ledger.
“Yes.”
Roman moved.
The gun followed him.
“Name.”
“No.”
“Elizabeth.”
“If I say it before the ledger is authenticated, it's my word against theirs.”
“Whose?”
She looked at me.
“The person you still haven't suspected.”
My phone rang.
Kent.
Nobody moved.
I answered.
“Kent?”
A man's voice replied.
“Mrs. Ashby.”
Adrian Mercer.
My stomach dropped.
“Where's my husband?”
“Alive.”
“For now?”
“I dislike clichés.”
“Then stop behaving like one.”
Roman almost smiled.
Adrian didn't.
“You have something that belongs to me.”
I looked at my mother.
The ledger.
“It belonged to my father.”
“Daniel stole it.”
“From whom?”
“People who understood its value.”
“You mean criminals.”
“I mean realists.”
“What do you want?”
“A trade.”
“Kent for the ledger.”
“Yes.”
My mother shook her head violently.
“No.”
Adrian heard her.
“Elizabeth.”
She raised the phone closer.
“Adrian.”
“You've become inconvenient.”
“I learned from Daniel.”
“Daniel became dead.”
My mother's face hardened.
“You always did confuse murder with intelligence.”
Roman took the phone.
“Where?”
Adrian laughed.
“Roman Vale.”
“Where is Kent?”
“Your family's old boathouse.”
Roman's expression changed.
“How appropriate.”
“You have one hour.”
“And after?”
“The Ashby problem ends.”
The call disconnected.
My mother lowered the gun slightly.
Roman moved fast.
He caught her wrist.
The gun hit the floor.
I kicked it away.
My mother didn't fight.
Roman took the ledger.
She slapped him.
Hard.
He barely reacted.
“Give it back.”
“No.”
“You don't understand.”
“Then explain quickly.”
“That ledger is incomplete.”
I stared at her.
“What?”
“The physical book contains transactions.”
“And?”
“The names are encoded.”
“The index in the basement.”
She shook her head.
“Part of it.”
“What's the other part?”
My mother looked at me.
“You.”
Of course.
My childhood numbers.
Roman opened the ledger.
Columns.
Dates.
Account numbers.
Initials.
Symbols.
Some patterns felt familiar.
Painfully familiar.
“Dad made me memorize these.”
“Fragments.”
“Can I decode it?”
“Maybe.”
“Maybe?”
“You were sixteen.”
“I remember things.”
“I know.”
Something in her voice made me pause.
“You tested me.”
She didn't answer.
“Since you came back.”
“Yes.”
“When?”
“The dots.”
The page counts.
4-17-2009.
“You wanted to see whether I still recognized his patterns.”
“Yes.”
Anger rose again.
“I'm your daughter, not a lock.”
“I know.”
“Do you?”
Tears filled her eyes.
“I stopped knowing how to be your mother a long time ago.”
That was the first thing she'd said all night that felt entirely true.
Roman checked his watch.
“We have fifty-six minutes.”
My phone vibrated.
A video arrived.
Kent.
His face was bruised.
Hands bound.
Behind him, black water reflected dock lights.
Adrian stepped into frame.
“Kent Ashby has offered an alternative.”
I stared.
Kent looked into the camera.
“Claire, don't bring the ledger.”
Adrian continued.
“Your husband would like to make a bargain.”
The video ended.
Another call came immediately.
This time Kent spoke.
“Claire.”
“What did you offer him?”
“Everything.”
“What does that mean?”
“My company.”
“It's already collapsing.”
“Not the company.”
“Kent.”
“My father's estate.”
Margaret had inherited much of Charles's wealth, but Kent controlled trusts, properties and investments.
“How much?”
“Enough.”
“Kent, what did you offer?”
“All of it.”
I closed my eyes.
“Why?”
“For the ledger.”
“You mean for me.”
Silence.
“Yes.”
“Don't.”
“Claire—”
“You don't get to turn this into some grand sacrifice.”
“I know.”
“You lied to me.”
“I know.”
“You cheated on me.”
“I know.”
“You approached me because of my father.”
“Yes.”
The word hurt every time.
“And now you're giving away your inheritance because you think it fixes something?”
“No.”
His voice softened.
“It doesn't fix us.”
I said nothing.
“It doesn't erase Vanessa.”
Nothing.
“It doesn't erase the first lie.”
My throat tightened.
“Then why?”
“Because your father spent seventeen years trying to make sure this evidence survived.”
A pause.
“And I spent ten years loving his daughter badly.”
My eyes closed.
“Don't say that.”
“It's true.”
“Kent.”
“I loved you. I also lied to you. Both can be true.”
For once, he wasn't asking forgiveness.
“I want one decent thing left when this is over.”
“What?”
“You alive.”
A sound came from his side.
Someone approaching.
Kent spoke faster.
“Mercer accepted the estate.”
“What?”
“He doesn't want money.”
“Then why accept it?”
“He wants the controlling shares.”
Roman grabbed the phone.
“In what?”
Kent answered.
“North Harbor successor companies.”
Roman went pale.
My mother whispered, “No.”
“What?” I demanded.
Kent continued.
“My father never owned them outright. The Ashby trust holds twenty-one percent.”
Roman understood.
“And Vale?”
“Twenty-four.”
Roman's jaw tightened.
My mother finished it.
“Mercer already controls the rest.”
I stared at them.
“If he gets Kent's shares—”
“He controls the network legally,” Roman said.
Adrian wasn't trying to hide Harrow anymore.
He was trying to own the legitimate companies beneath it.
“Don't sign anything,” I told Kent.
“Too late.”
My stomach dropped.
“What?”
“I signed.”
“Kent!”
“But there's a condition.”
“What condition?”
“The transfer completes at midnight.”
“Why?”
“Because I insisted on seeing proof Claire would be released.”
I almost screamed.
“I'm not his prisoner.”
Silence.
Kent whispered:
“What?”
“He lied to you.”
Roman looked at his watch.
Forty-eight minutes.
Kent breathed hard.
“Then he doesn't have Claire.”
“No.”
A door slammed on his end.
“Claire, listen.”
“What?”
“If Mercer realizes the bargain is useless, he'll kill me.”
I couldn't answer.
“And he'll come for the ledger.”
“I know.”
“Don't bring it.”
The call ended.
I stared at the phone.
My husband had just traded his inheritance to a man who didn't even possess the hostage he'd promised to release.
A terrible bargain.
A stupid bargain.
A very Kent bargain.
Roman closed the ledger.
“We go to the boathouse.”
My mother grabbed his arm.
“No.”
“I'm not leaving Kent there.”
Neither was I.
“You're coming?” Roman asked.
“Yes.”
“No.”
I stared at him.
“That wasn't a question.”
He looked irritated.
Good.
It meant he was thinking like a protector instead of a dictator.
“Fine.”
My mother shook her head.
“You cannot take the ledger.”
“We need leverage.”
“You have leverage.”
She pointed at me.
I hated that.
Roman did too.
“Claire isn't leverage.”
“To Mercer, she is.”
I opened the ledger.
“Then we give him what he thinks he wants.”
“What are you doing?”
I photographed several pages.
Then handed the physical ledger to my mother.
“You keep it.”
“Claire—”
“He doesn't know we found you.”
“He knows I'm alive.”
“He doesn't know where you are.”
Roman understood.
“We bring copies.”
“And if he demands the original?”
“We make him prove Kent is alive first.”
My mother stared at me.
For the first time, I saw something like pride.
I didn't want it.
Not yet.
Thirty-seven minutes later, we reached the Vale boathouse.
Roman's people stayed back.
Police had been notified but kept outside the immediate property because Adrian had threatened Kent.
Rain hit the roof.
The boathouse door stood open.
I entered beside Roman.
Kent sat beneath a hanging light.
Alive.
Adrian stood behind him.
Vanessa stood near the water.
And Evelyn stood beside Adrian.
I stopped.
Evelyn looked at me.
“I'm sorry.”
“You keep saying that after betraying people.”
Her face tightened.
Adrian held out his hand.
“The ledger.”
I lifted the folder of copies.
“Release Kent.”
“Original.”
“Proof first.”
“He's sitting in front of you.”
“I want him untied.”
Adrian smiled.
“You negotiate like Daniel.”
“Apparently everyone who knew him says that.”
Kent looked at me.
“Claire, leave.”
“No.”
“Please.”
“No.”
Adrian sighed.
“Marriage.”
Vanessa looked away.
I noticed.
Something was wrong.
She wasn't standing with Adrian.
She was standing near him.
There was a difference.
“Vanessa.”
She looked at me.
“Why are you here?”
Adrian answered.
“She made choices.”
“I asked her.”
Vanessa swallowed.
Then said:
“Because Kent wasn't supposed to be taken.”
Adrian turned toward her.
She continued.
“I was supposed to get the ledger.”
“Vanessa,” Evelyn warned.
“No.”
She looked at me.
“I'm done.”
Adrian's expression became frighteningly calm.
Vanessa reached into her ivory dress.
Roman moved.
She pulled out a flash drive.
Not a weapon.
“I copied Harrow's internal archive.”
Adrian's face changed.
Vanessa threw it toward me.
I caught it.
Then everything happened at once.
A gun appeared in Adrian's hand.
Roman shoved me behind a support beam.
Evelyn screamed.
Kent kicked backward, knocking his chair into Adrian.
A shot exploded.
Vanessa fell.
Kent hit the floor.
Roman moved toward Adrian.
Another shot.
Glass shattered.
Sirens erupted outside.
Adrian ran toward the rear dock.
Evelyn dropped beside Vanessa.
I rushed to Kent.
“Are you hit?”
“No.”
I cut the plastic restraint around his wrists with a knife Roman had dropped.
Kent looked at me.
“You came.”
“Don't make this romantic.”
Despite everything, he almost smiled.
Then his face changed.
“Claire.”
“What?”
“Where's the ledger?”
“Safe.”
“Good.”
Roman returned.
“Mercer's gone into the water.”
“Did he escape?”
“Maybe.”
Evelyn pressed her hands against Vanessa's shoulder.
The bullet had gone through.
She was conscious.
“Flash drive,” she gasped.
I held it up.
“What's on it?”
“Everything.”
“Including who killed my father?”
Vanessa looked at Evelyn.
Evelyn closed her eyes.
“Yes.”
Police flooded the boathouse.
Paramedics rushed toward Vanessa.
Kent stood unsteadily.
An officer cut the remaining restraint from his ankle.
His phone lay on the floor.
It began ringing.
Margaret.
Kent answered.
“Mom?”
His expression changed instantly.
“What?”
He put the call on speaker.
Margaret's voice shook.
“Kent, someone came to the house.”
“Who?”
“I don't know.”
“Are you safe?”
“Yes.”
“What did they want?”
A pause.
“They left something.”
“What?”
“A contract.”
Kent looked at Roman.
“What contract?”
“Your father's original North Harbor trust.”
My mother entered the boathouse behind the police.
She had followed us.
Her face went white.
Margaret continued.
“Kent, your signature doesn't transfer the shares at midnight.”
“What?”
“The documents Mercer gave you were fake.”
Relief crossed Kent's face.
Then Margaret started crying.
“The real trust has a succession clause.”
Roman whispered, “What clause?”
Margaret answered.
“If Charles's son marries Daniel Bennett's daughter, control of the Ashby shares automatically transfers to the Bennett heir.”
Everyone turned toward me.
My stomach dropped.
Kent's shares.
North Harbor.
The account.
My father's system.
All of it.
Kent stared at me.
“Claire owns them?”
Margaret whispered:
“Since the day you married her.”
Silence.
Then the lights in the boathouse flickered.
My phone vibrated.
One message.
ADRIAN MERCER: NOW YOU UNDERSTAND WHY I NEEDED YOUR HUSBAND TO MARRY YOU.
A second message arrived.
I opened it.
A live photograph.
My mother standing three feet behind me.
Then another.
Closer.
Someone was photographing us from inside the boathouse.
Roman turned.
“Everybody down!”
The rear door opened.
A figure stepped through.
Kent went completely still.
My mother whispered the name first.
May you like
And the man who walked in was supposed to have been dead for twelve years.
Charles Ashby.
