Chapter 5 - The Person Inside the Safe House
Vincent ran before the emergency lights came on.
He did not check who had been shot.
He did not ask whether Arthur or Marcus was alive.
Sophie had called him.
That was enough.
“Keep talking,” he ordered into the phone.
“I’m hiding.”
“Where?”
“In the closet.”
“Is Julia with you?”
“She told me to hide.”
“Can you hear her?”
“No.”
Vincent reached the garage.
Two guards followed.
He took the first vehicle available.
“Stay quiet. Keep the phone on.”
Sophie whispered, “I’m scared.”
Vincent gripped the steering wheel.
“I know.”
“Are you coming?”
“Yes.”
“You promised.”
“I remember.”
Traffic blurred around him.
Twenty-two minutes away under normal conditions.
Vincent made it in twelve.
The apartment door stood open.
One guard lay unconscious in the hallway.
Alive.
No gunshot wound.
Vincent entered with weapon raised.
“Julia?”
No answer.
Kitchen empty.
Living room empty.
A lamp had been knocked over.
Vincent moved toward the bedroom.
The closet door was closed.
“Sophie?”
Silence.
His heart stopped.
Then:
“Uncle Vincent?”
He opened it.
Sophie launched herself against him.
Vincent dropped to his knees and held her.
For several seconds, he forgot everything else.
Power.
Reputation.
Enemies.
The entire city.
None of it mattered.
“You came.”
“I told you I would.”
She buried her face against his shoulder.
“Julia went outside when somebody knocked.”
“Did you see who?”
“No.”
“Did anyone come in here?”
“I heard footsteps.”
“Male or female?”
“I don’t know.”
“Did they say anything?”
She nodded.
“What?”
Sophie looked toward the bedroom.
“They said, ‘She isn’t here.’”
Vincent’s blood chilled.
“Who isn’t here?”
“They didn’t say.”
He searched the apartment.
Nothing taken.
Julia was found downstairs in the stairwell, dazed but alive.
Someone had struck her from behind.
The intruder had searched the apartment quickly.
Not for Sophie.
For something else.
Vincent looked at Sophie’s stuffed rabbit.
“Did you bring anything from your apartment besides that?”
Sophie thought.
“My book.”
“What book?”
She pulled a children’s copy of The Secret Garden from her small overnight bag.
Vincent flipped through it.
Nothing.
Then he noticed the inside cover.
Rebecca Rowan.
Written in blue ink.
“This was Rebecca’s?”
“Mom said it belonged to my aunt.”
Vincent turned the book upside down.
A thin plastic card slid out from beneath the binding.
Encrypted storage card.
Sophie stared.
“I didn’t know that was there.”
Vincent believed her.
He called Marcus.
No answer.
Then Arthur.
Arthur answered.
“Vincent.”
“Who got shot?”
A pause.
“Marcus.”
Vincent closed his eyes.
“Alive?”
“Yes. Shoulder.”
“Who fired?”
“We don’t know.”
“You were in the room.”
“The lights went out.”
“Convenient.”
“I didn’t have a weapon.”
“Someone did.”
Arthur’s voice hardened.
“There was another person in the library.”
“How?”
“Hidden passage.”
Vincent almost laughed.
“What hidden passage?”
“Your father had one built behind the west shelving.”
Vincent knew the mansion better than anyone.
Or thought he did.
“Why?”
“Because Charles Rowan trusted architecture more than people.”
Vincent looked at Sophie.
“She had another data card.”
Arthur became silent.
“Where?”
“Rebecca’s book.”
“Do not access it on any networked machine.”
“Why?”
“Because whoever is searching for it may be watching.”
Vincent ended the call.
They moved to a secure Rowan facility with an isolated computer.
Marcus arrived after treatment, his left shoulder bandaged.
Vincent looked at him.
“You shouldn’t be here.”
Marcus gave a humorless smile.
“You almost accused me of murdering your sister. I’m not going home now.”
Arthur arrived separately.
Vincent placed the photograph from Arthur’s coat on the table.
“Tell me everything.”
Marcus looked at Arthur.
Arthur looked at Marcus.
Finally Marcus spoke.
“Daniel Mercer contacted me eight years ago.”
“Why?”
“He was investigating fraudulent contracts tied to Rowan Holdings.”
“You knew?”
“I knew enough to believe him.”
“Did my father?”
“Eventually.”
Arthur interrupted.
“Charles refused to involve police until he knew how deep it went.”
Vincent’s anger rose.
“So everyone investigated my company except me.”
“You were being kept outside deliberately,” Marcus said.
“By my father?”
“By Rebecca.”
That hurt more.
“Why?”
“Because she believed someone was using your expansion deals to move money. Whoever it was needed your signatures, your travel, your public reputation.”
“I was the cover.”
“Yes.”
Vincent sat.
“Daniel?”
Marcus continued.
“He discovered the shell companies led back to one central account.”
“Whose?”
“We never knew. Daniel died before he could tell us.”
Arthur shook his head.
“We thought he died.”
Vincent looked at him.
“What?”
Arthur’s expression changed.
“Sara found evidence three weeks ago that Daniel may have survived.”
Silence.
“Sophie’s father is alive?”
“We don’t know.”
Sophie had been coloring at a table on the far side of the room.
Vincent glanced over.
She had not heard.
“Keep your voice down.”
Arthur nodded.
Marcus opened the encrypted card.
One folder.
One video file.
Rebecca appeared on screen.
Alive.
Pregnant.
Tired.
She sat in the same private library Vincent knew so well.
“If Vincent is seeing this,” she began, “then Sara either found the courage to tell him or she ran out of choices.”
Vincent leaned toward the screen.
Rebecca smiled sadly.
“Vinnie, I’m sorry.”
He looked away for one second.
Then back.
“Daniel is Sophie’s father. He found evidence that someone inside Rowan Holdings was moving money through our company and using Dad’s contacts to protect it.”
Rebecca placed a folder on the desk.
“We believed Daniel was killed because of what he discovered.”
She paused.
“But three days ago, I received proof he may still be alive.”
Marcus leaned closer.
Rebecca continued.
“If Daniel survived, there is only one reason he never came back.”
Arthur whispered, “He was hiding.”
Rebecca shook her head on the recording, almost as if answering him across time.
“No. He wasn’t hiding from them.”
Everyone watched.
“He was working for them.”
Vincent felt Sophie approach behind him.
He quickly paused the video.
Too late.
“Who was working for who?” she asked.
Vincent turned.
“Adult business.”
“I hate adult business.”
“So do I.”
Sophie crossed her arms.
“Was that Rebecca?”
“Yes.”
“My other mom?”
Vincent nodded.
She looked at the frozen image for a long moment.
“She looks like me.”
“Yes.”
Sophie quietly sat beside him.
“Can I watch?”
Vincent wanted to say no.
Instead:
“Yes.”
He restarted.
Rebecca continued.
“I don’t know if Daniel betrayed us willingly. I don’t know if he was threatened. But I know he gave someone access to my investigation.”
Her eyes filled with tears.
“The night before I made this recording, someone called me from Daniel’s phone.”
Vincent leaned forward.
Rebecca whispered:
“He told me to stop digging if I wanted Sophie to live.”
The video glitched.
Then resumed.
“There’s one person who can identify whoever controlled Daniel.”
Rebecca reached toward the camera.
A name appeared onscreen.
Not Arthur.
Not Charles.
Not Marcus.
A woman.
Eleanor Rowan.
Vincent’s mother.
Sophie looked up.
“Who’s that?”
Vincent could barely answer.
“My mother.”
Sophie frowned.
“I thought she died.”
“She did.”
Eleanor Rowan had died fourteen years earlier.
Rebecca’s recording continued.
“If you think that’s impossible, look in the blue room beneath the old house.”
The screen went black.
Vincent stared.
The old house.
Rowan Farm.
The country property abandoned after Eleanor’s death.
Marcus slowly said, “There is no blue room.”
Arthur looked at him.
“Yes, there is.”
Vincent turned.
“How do you know?”
Arthur stood.
“Because fourteen years ago, I helped your mother seal it.”
Three hours later, they reached Rowan Farm.
The house had been empty for years.
Dust.
Covered furniture.
Silent halls.
Arthur led them to the basement.
Behind a wooden storage wall was a steel door painted dark blue.
Vincent had never seen it.
Arthur handed him a key.
Vincent unlocked it.
The door opened inward.
A light clicked on automatically.
Someone had been inside recently.
A cup of coffee sat on a table.
Still warm.
Vincent stepped forward.
Then a man’s voice came from the darkness.
“You look more like Charles every year.”
Vincent stopped.
Sophie gasped behind him.
A man emerged into the light.
Older.
Scar across his jaw.
Vincent recognized him from Rebecca’s photograph.
Daniel Mercer.
Sophie’s father.
May you like
Alive.
And he was holding Sara Ellis by the arm.
