Chapter 2 - Mr. Logistics
Harper saw Adrian's expression before she understood the danger.
The man behind her moved.
Cole moved faster.
He seized Harper by the arm and pulled her sideways.
Adrian caught the stranger's wrist.
A small knife hit the marble floor.
Three seconds later, the man was facedown.
Harper stared.
“What the hell?”
Cole restrained the attacker.
Adrian looked at Harper.
“Are you hurt?”
“No.”
Her breathing said otherwise.
“Who is he?”
“I was hoping you knew.”
Adrian crouched beside the attacker.
“Who sent you?”
The man smiled through blood on his lip.
“Ask her father.”
Harper went still.
“My father is dead.”
The man's smile widened.
“So is Adrian's.”
Harper looked at Adrian.
Recognition finally arrived.
“Adrian?”
Cole closed his eyes briefly.
Harper stepped backward.
“Adrian Crowe?”
“Yes.”
“Crowe Meridian Adrian Crowe?”
“Yes.”
“My CEO's CEO's terrifying CEO?”
Adrian almost corrected the number of CEOs between them.
He decided against it.
Harper stared at him.
“You said logistics.”
“I work in logistics.”
“You own the building.”
“That doesn't make the statement inaccurate.”
“This is not the moment for technicalities, Mr. Logistics.”
Cole looked away, hiding something dangerously close to amusement.
The attacker laughed.
Then his jaw tightened.
Cole grabbed his face.
Too late.
The man convulsed.
A capsule.
Poison.
Within seconds, he stopped moving.
Harper's face drained of color.
Adrian stepped between her and the body.
“Don't look.”
“I already did.”
Her voice shook.
But she didn't scream.
That disturbed Adrian more than screaming would have.
He guided her toward the private elevator.
She resisted.
“I need the police.”
“No.”
She looked at him.
“No?”
“The man knew your father. He knew mine. Until I understand why, you don't speak to anyone.”
“That's kidnapping with nicer carpeting.”
“Harper.”
“No. You don't get to use my first name like we're friends.”
Adrian lowered his voice.
“Someone just tried to kill you.”
That stopped her.
He continued.
“If you walk outside alone, I cannot guarantee you'll survive the next hour.”
Harper swallowed.
“That's an awful sales pitch.”
“It isn't a sales pitch.”
“What is it?”
“A promise.”
The elevator rose toward Adrian's private floor.
Harper folded her arms.
“You promise people things often?”
“Rarely.”
“Comforting.”
The doors opened.
Cole stayed behind to manage the body and security footage.
Harper followed Adrian into his office.
Her wet clothes had begun to dry, leaving her shivering.
Adrian removed his suit jacket and held it out.
She stared at it.
“No.”
“You're cold.”
“That thing probably costs three months of my rent.”
“Four.”
Her mouth fell open.
He placed it around her shoulders.
For several seconds, neither spoke.
Then Harper looked toward her bag.
“My umbrella.”
“What?”
“I dropped it downstairs.”
“I'll replace it.”
“It cost four dollars.”
“I'll survive.”
“That remains unclear.”
Again, that almost-amusement.
Adrian poured water.
“Your father. Tell me about him.”
“Daniel Lane. Accountant. Quiet. Terrible cook. Died when I was eight.”
“How?”
“Car accident.”
“Where?”
“Baltimore.”
Adrian stopped pouring.
“You said you were from Dayton.”
“We moved afterward.”
“Who told you it was an accident?”
“My mother.”
“Where is she?”
Harper's expression closed.
“Dead.”
“When?”
“Three years ago.”
Adrian looked toward the windows.
Alexander Crowe died nineteen years earlier.
Daniel Lane died nineteen years earlier.
Same city.
Same year.
He turned.
“Did your father ever work for Crowe Meridian?”
“It didn't exist then.”
“Answer.”
“I don't know.”
Her phone vibrated.
Harper looked down.
Unknown number.
A photograph had arrived.
She opened it.
Her hand began trembling.
It showed the two of them in the elevator that morning.
Harper holding her coffee.
Adrian watching her.
The photograph had been taken from inside the elevator.
Not from the security camera.
Someone had been standing close enough to photograph them.
But there had been only Harper, Adrian and Cole.
Then Adrian noticed the elevator's mirrored wall.
A reflection.
A fourth figure.
Someone standing where no one should have been.
Harper enlarged the image.
Underneath it was one sentence.
YOUR FATHER DIDN'T DIE IN THE CAR.
A second message appeared.
HE DIED BECAUSE ADRIAN CROWE'S FATHER FOUND OUT WHAT HE STOLE.
Harper looked up.
“Tell me that's a lie.”
Adrian reached for the phone.
Before his fingers touched it, another message arrived.
This one contained an address.
May you like
And beneath the address were four words.
ASK WHAT DANIEL BURIED THERE.
