Chapter 3 - The Man Who Buried a Ghost
Julian slammed his shoulder against the door before it opened.
The man outside shoved back.
Ava wheeled her father toward the bedroom.
“Fire escape?”
Martin pointed.
“Kitchen.”
Julian locked the deadbolt.
“Go.”
A second impact shook the door.
Julian grabbed a heavy wooden chair and wedged it beneath the handle.
Ava stared at him.
“What about you?”
“I’m behind you.”
“That sounds like something people say before doing something stupid.”
Another impact.
“Move, Ava.”
She did.
The kitchen fire escape descended into an alley.
Martin could not use it.
Ava looked at the narrow metal stairs and then at her father’s wheelchair.
“No.”
Julian arrived behind them.
“We need another way.”
The apartment door cracked.
Julian pulled out his phone.
“Security is downstairs.”
“Those men came through downstairs.”
“Not mine.”
Sirens sounded outside.
The pounding stopped.
Silence.
Then footsteps retreated.
Julian went to the window.
The two men emerged from the building and entered the SUV.
A police cruiser turned onto the street.
The SUV disappeared.
Ava leaned against the kitchen counter.
Her hands were shaking.
Martin stared at the floor.
Julian turned toward him.
“You’re going to tell me everything.”
Martin looked at Ava.
“No.”
“Dad.”
“I kept you safe by keeping quiet.”
“Men just came to our apartment.”
Martin’s shoulders sagged.
“I know.”
Ava knelt in front of him.
“Then silence isn’t keeping us safe anymore.”
Martin closed his eyes.
Twenty-six years earlier, he explained, he had worked nights as a maintenance supervisor at West Briar.
Crosswell had been much smaller then.
Charles Cross had inherited it from Julian’s grandfather and begun buying neglected apartment buildings.
Charles believed there was money in restoring neighborhoods without removing the people who lived there.
Others inside the company disagreed.
Martin discovered false repair invoices.
Then forged vacancy reports.
Then properties transferred through shell companies before being resold at enormous profit.
He told Charles.
Charles investigated secretly.
Three weeks later, his plane crashed.
Except Charles had never boarded it.
“He knew someone was going to kill him,” Martin said.
Julian’s face remained unreadable.
“How do you know?”
“He came here.”
“To West Briar?”
“The night before the flight.”
Martin looked at Ava.
“He gave me documents.”
“Where are they?”
“I burned them.”
Julian stepped back as if struck.
“You what?”
“He told me to.”
“Why?”
“Because someone was following him.”
Martin’s voice cracked.
“He said if anything happened, I had to protect my family first.”
Julian paced toward the window.
“You knew my father survived.”
“For a while.”
“How long?”
“Three months.”
The date on the photograph.
Julian turned.
“What happened after three months?”
Martin stared at his hands.
“He disappeared for real.”
“Dead?”
“I don’t know.”
Julian’s jaw tightened.
Ava saw the fourteen-year-old boy beneath the CEO for just a second.
Then he vanished again.
“Who was he investigating?”
Martin hesitated.
“Your uncle.”
Julian froze.
“Thomas?”
Martin nodded.
Ava knew the name.
Thomas Cross had served as interim CEO after Charles disappeared.
He had later become chairman.
He had died nine years ago.
Julian looked almost relieved.
A dead culprit was easier than a living one.
Martin shook his head.
“Thomas wasn’t alone.”
Julian’s relief vanished.
“Who else?”
“I never knew.”
Noah entered the apartment with two Crosswell security officers.
He carried his tablet.
“Police have descriptions.”
Julian looked at him.
“What did you find about Grant?”
Noah glanced at Ava and Martin.
“Grant Morrison didn’t join Crosswell fifteen years ago.”
Julian frowned.
“That’s what his file says.”
“The file was altered.”
Noah turned the tablet.
“Grant worked for Thomas Cross twenty-seven years ago under a different corporate entity.”
Martin leaned closer.
His face changed.
“That’s him.”
Ava looked at the old employee photograph.
A much younger Grant Morrison stared back.
“You know him?”
Martin nodded slowly.
“He was there.”
Julian’s voice became cold.
“Where?”
“The night Charles gave me the documents.”
Ava’s stomach dropped.
Grant had been inside the company before Charles disappeared.
And now he controlled the redevelopment project involving the exact building where Charles had hidden.
Julian called corporate security.
“Find Morrison.”
Noah shook his head.
“Already tried.”
“What?”
“He left headquarters twelve minutes after us.”
“Phone?”
“Off.”
“Home?”
“Security is checking.”
Ava looked at the folder she still carried.
“What if Grant didn’t plant the photograph?”
Julian turned.
“What?”
“If he wanted this buried, why give me something connecting my father to Charles?”
Noah nodded.
“Someone else wanted Ava to find it.”
“Someone who knew she was coming to Crosswell,” Julian said.
Ava remembered her application.
Her address.
Her interview time.
“Someone inside the company.”
Martin suddenly spoke.
“Not necessarily.”
They looked at him.
He pointed toward Ava’s folder.
“Where did you get that?”
“Resale store.”
“Which one?”
She told him.
Martin’s face went pale.
“What?”
“That store used to be a pawnshop.”
“So?”
“Charles rented a storage locker beneath it.”
Ava stared at him.
“You never mentioned that.”
“I didn’t know it still existed.”
Julian was already moving.
They reached the shop forty minutes later.
The elderly cashier remembered Ava.
She also remembered the folder.
“Came in with a donation box.”
“From whom?” Julian asked.
She checked a handwritten ledger.
“No name. Storage cleanout.”
“Which storage?”
“Basement.”
The basement smelled of dust and old cardboard.
Most lockers had been converted to inventory cages.
At the far end, a rusted metal door carried a faded number.
Martin stared at it.
“That’s his.”
The shop owner found an old key.
It still worked.
Inside were empty shelves.
A broken lamp.
A metal desk.
Nothing else.
Ava’s heart sank.
Then Julian noticed scratches beneath the desk.
He pulled it aside.
A loose floor panel.
Underneath sat a small steel box.
Locked.
Martin whispered, “Charles.”
Noah found a screwdriver.
Julian forced the latch.
Inside were three cassette tapes, an old ledger, and a sealed envelope.
JULIAN.
His name.
Written by his father.
Julian stared at it for a long time.
Ava stood beside him.
“You don’t have to open it here.”
“Yes.”
His voice was barely audible.
“I do.”
He tore the envelope.
Inside was one handwritten page.
Julian read silently.
His hand began trembling.
Ava had never seen him lose control before.
“What does it say?”
He handed her the letter.
Julian,
If you are reading this, then I failed to come home.
Do not trust the vacancy reports.
Do not trust anyone who tells you removing poor families is necessary for growth.
A company becomes what it is willing to do to people who cannot fight back.
I discovered a system built inside Crosswell before you were born.
Thomas is involved, but he did not build it.
Someone above him did.
Ava stopped.
“Above your uncle?”
Julian took the letter back.
At the bottom was another sentence.
If Martin Monroe is still alive, believe him.
He saved my life once.
And if his daughter ever comes looking for answers, Crosswell owes her family more than money can repay.
Ava looked at her father.
Martin was crying silently.
Julian turned over the page.
There was one final line.
The proof is in the original Briar deed.
Noah immediately searched the corporate database.
“Digitized deed was replaced eight years ago.”
“Where’s the original?”
“Legal archive.”
“At headquarters?”
Noah nodded.
They returned after dark.
Corporate security escorted them underground.
The legal archive occupied a climate-controlled room beneath Crosswell Tower.
Rows of files disappeared into the darkness.
Ava found Briar.
The deed folder was thin.
Too thin.
Julian opened it.
Empty.
Noah swore.
Then Ava noticed something.
A rectangular indentation in the cardboard.
Something had been stored there recently.
Julian called security.
“Who accessed this?”
A minute passed.
Then security responded.
“One person today.”
Julian put the call on speaker.
“Who?”
The answer came.
“Grant Morrison.”
Ava closed her eyes.
They were too late.
Then a light clicked on at the far end of the archive.
A figure stood between the shelves.
Julian moved in front of Ava.
“Grant?”
The figure stepped forward.
It wasn’t Grant.
It was an elderly woman holding the original Briar deed.
May you like
She looked directly at Julian.
And said, “Your father sent me.”
