Chapter 3 - Seven People Knew
“Don't shoot,” Howard said.
Emergency lights flickered on.
He stood behind a second door Beatrice hadn't noticed.
Blood stained his collar.
Bastion aimed anyway.
“Give me a reason.”
Howard lifted both hands.
“Because I know who took your money.”
Beatrice stared at him.
“You knew?”
“I knew something.”
“You told me to stop.”
“I was trying to keep you alive.”
“You have an interesting technique.”
Howard's knees buckled.
Beatrice caught him before he hit the floor.
A bullet had grazed his shoulder.
They moved him to the desk.
Bastion searched him.
No weapon.
Howard looked at Beatrice.
“You were never supposed to find all twenty-three.”
“Why?”
“Because your firm wasn't hired to discover the theft.”
Beatrice felt cold.
“Then why were we hired?”
“To certify the books.”
Bastion understood first.
“Someone wanted an outside auditor to approve false records.”
Howard nodded.
“And when Beatrice found the discrepancy?”
“I was ordered to remove her.”
Beatrice stared.
“By whom?”
“I don't know.”
“That's convenient.”
“Instructions came through an intermediary.”
“Name.”
Howard hesitated.
Bastion stepped closer.
Howard answered quickly.
“Daniel Cross.”
Finance director.
One of the seven.
They returned upstairs with Howard under guard.
Daniel couldn't be located.
His apartment was empty.
His phone had gone dark thirty minutes earlier.
Bastion ordered every exit monitored.
Beatrice resumed the audit.
If Daniel had stolen the money, the evidence should converge on him.
It didn't.
His credentials had been used.
But timestamps showed Daniel attending a charity gala during two transfers.
Video confirmed it.
“Someone cloned his credentials,” Beatrice said.
Bastion stood beside her.
“So Howard lied.”
“Or Daniel was being used.”
Howard insisted Daniel had contacted him.
Beatrice asked for proof.
Howard produced emails.
She studied their metadata.
“They're forged.”
Howard paled.
“What?”
“Someone spoofed Daniel's address.”
The trap was becoming clearer.
Someone wasn't merely stealing.
They were planting suspects.
Thomas Reed.
Daniel Cross.
Maybe Howard.
Layers of disposable guilt.
Beatrice leaned back.
“Your traitor isn't hiding evidence.”
Bastion looked at her.
“They're manufacturing it.”
Exactly.
Her phone rang.
Daniel Cross.
Bastion answered on speaker.
Daniel sounded terrified.
“I didn't take your money.”
“Where are you?”
“I can't tell you.”
“Then this conversation ends.”
“Wait.”
A breath.
“I found Reed.”
Beatrice grabbed the phone.
“Thomas Reed?”
“He's alive.”
“Where?”
“He contacted me two months ago. He said someone inside Mercer was using old accounts.”
“Who?”
“He wouldn't say.”
“Daniel, where are you?”
Silence.
Then:
“Ask Bastion what happened to his father.”
The call ended.
Beatrice turned.
Bastion's face had emptied.
“What happened to your father?”
“Nothing relevant.”
“That means extremely relevant.”
“My father died twelve years ago.”
“How?”
“Car accident.”
“Who inherited the company?”
“I did.”
“And Victor?”
“Nothing.”
There it was.
A motive.
Beatrice searched old corporate records.
Bastion's father, Alexander Mercer, had controlled everything.
His brother's son, Victor, had expected a substantial inheritance.
Instead, Alexander left ninety-eight percent to Bastion.
Why?
No public explanation.
Beatrice found something else.
Alexander had created a trust shortly before his death.
Beneficiary encrypted.
Dormant ever since.
The same trust now connected to the missing forty million.
“Bastion.”
He approached.
She opened the trust.
“This isn't about your company.”
He saw his father's signature.
“This started with him.”
Before Beatrice could open the beneficiary attachment, Bastion's security phone rang.
Adrian Cole.
“We found Daniel.”
“Where?”
“Parking garage.”
“Alive?”
A pause.
“Yes.”
“But?”
“He's holding a gun.”
Bastion headed for the door.
Beatrice followed.
“No.”
“I need to hear him.”
“You're staying.”
“I've ignored that instruction three times.”
“This time—”
“Save your breath.”
They reached the underground garage.
Daniel stood between two vehicles.
Gun shaking.
Not pointed at Bastion.
Pointed at himself.
“Daniel,” Bastion said.
“Stay back.”
Beatrice stepped forward.
Daniel stared at her.
“You found the trust.”
“Yes.”
“Then you're already dead.”
“Who owns it?”
Daniel's eyes filled with terror.
“I never stole anything.”
“I believe you.”
That surprised him.
“Then listen.”
He lowered the gun slightly.
“The beneficiary isn't Victor.”
“Who is it?”
Daniel looked at Bastion.
“Your father left everything for a reason.”
A red dot appeared on Daniel's chest.
Beatrice saw it.
“DOWN!”
The shot shattered the windshield.
Bastion dragged her behind a car.
His men fired toward the upper level.
When Beatrice looked again, Daniel was on the ground.
Still alive.
Barely.
She crawled toward him.
Daniel caught her wrist.
“Seven people,” he whispered.
“I know.”
“No.”
Blood touched his lips.
“There weren't seven.”
Beatrice leaned closer.
Daniel whispered one final sentence.
“There were eight.”
Then his hand opened.
Inside his palm was an old photograph.
Beatrice turned it over.
A woman's name had been written on the back.
Bastion saw it.
May you like
And for the first time, Beatrice watched fear cross his face.
The name was Elena Mercer.
