Chapter 2 - Eleven Months of Silence
Briar stared at the man framed in the kitchen doorway.
“Victor?”
Victor Sloane smiled as though he had arrived late to an ordinary dinner.
Garrison did not move.
That frightened Briar more than anger would have.
Victor was Garrison's cousin.
Chief operating officer of Halloran Holdings.
Second only to Garrison.
He was forty-two, silver beginning at his temples, his tailored gray coat still buttoned against the Boston cold.
“What an audience,” Victor said.
Garrison's voice remained level.
“What are you doing here?”
“Eating dinner.”
“In the kitchen?”
Victor glanced around.
“I heard there was a problem.”
Caleb moved subtly between Victor and Briar.
Victor noticed.
His smile thinned.
“Do I need to be searched now?”
Garrison said, “If I decide you do.”
A beat passed.
Family.
Briar could feel it.
Old history beneath every word.
Victor looked at her.
“I heard about your car.”
“How?”
“Security called me.”
Caleb said nothing.
Garrison asked, “Which security?”
Victor's attention shifted.
“Excuse me?”
“I didn't authorize anyone to notify you.”
Victor laughed once.
“I'm COO. People tell me things.”
Garrison's expression stayed unreadable.
“Apparently.”
Briar could barely follow the conversation.
Her mind remained on the bank.
The real notebook.
The one she'd created before anyone knew her name.
“Garrison.”
He looked at her immediately.
“We need to go.”
Victor glanced between them.
“Go where?”
“No concern of yours,” Garrison said.
“That sounds healthy.”
Ethan stepped forward.
“Can somebody explain why a corporate executive is discussing an ambush like we're in a bad spy movie?”
Victor looked at him for the first time.
“And you are?”
“Ethan Mercer.”
Recognition flashed through Victor's eyes.
Small.
Fast.
But Briar saw it.
So did Garrison.
“You know him,” Garrison said.
Victor shook his head.
“No.”
Ethan looked puzzled.
“I don't know you.”
Victor smiled again.
“Then we're all strangers.”
Garrison turned to Caleb.
“Take Briar.”
“I am standing right here,” she said.
Garrison's gaze returned to her.
“Then walk with Caleb voluntarily.”
“Better.”
“Briar.”
“I said better. Not good.”
Despite everything, something flickered at the corner of his mouth.
Then vanished.
They left through the kitchen loading exit.
Two black SUVs waited in the alley.
Briar stopped.
“Absolutely not.”
Garrison turned.
“What now?”
“You expect me to get into an SUV after telling me someone tried to intercept your SUV eleven months ago?”
Ethan coughed into his fist, hiding a laugh.
Garrison stared at Briar for two seconds.
“Fair point.”
They took Caleb's sedan.
Victor was told to go home.
He did not like it.
Garrison did not care.
The bank was nine minutes away.
They made it in six.
During the drive, Briar sat beside Garrison in the back.
Neither spoke for the first three minutes.
Then he said, “You saved my life.”
“You don't know that.”
“The vehicle I was supposed to use was hit.”
“No one died.”
“Because I changed the staffing rotation after your warning.”
Briar looked out the window.
Boston lights streaked across the glass.
“I didn't know that.”
“I did.”
Silence again.
Finally she said, “I wasn't trying to be a hero.”
“I didn't say you were.”
“Good.”
“I said you saved my life.”
She turned.
His eyes were on her.
For eleven months she had wondered what lived beneath Garrison Halloran's perfect control.
Tonight she saw it.
Gratitude.
Anger.
Fear.
And something dangerously close to hurt.
“Why didn't you tell me?” he asked.
“Because I didn't know whether you were part of it.”
His face hardened.
“You thought I arranged my own ambush?”
“I thought Halloran Holdings might be laundering money.”
Ethan leaned forward from the passenger seat.
Garrison looked at him.
“This conversation doesn't involve you.”
Ethan looked back.
“If someone's committing financial crimes and Briar has evidence, it might.”
Garrison's eyes narrowed.
There.
Again.
Briar noticed the change.
“What do you actually do, Ethan?”
Ethan turned to her.
“I told you.”
“Corporate risk consulting.”
“Yes.”
Garrison spoke.
“Interesting answer.”
Briar faced him.
“What do you know?”
“His firm doesn't exist.”
Ethan sighed.
“Here we go.”
“You ran a background check?” Briar asked.
Garrison did not deny it.
“At two fourteen Wednesday morning.”
“You know the time?”
“I made the call.”
She stared at him.
“That is insane.”
“I was thorough.”
“That is a word for it.”
Ethan turned around.
“My firm exists.”
Garrison said, “Not under that name.”
Ethan looked at Briar.
She felt the temperature inside the car fall.
“Ethan?”
He exhaled.
“I'm an investigator.”
Garrison's hand tightened once against his knee.
“For whom?”
“Massachusetts Financial Crimes Bureau.”
Briar went silent.
Caleb glanced in the mirror.
Garrison's voice changed.
Almost imperceptibly.
“Get out.”
“We're moving.”
“I noticed.”
“You asked what I do.”
“I asked who you work for.”
“I told you.”
“Now get out.”
Briar touched Garrison's arm.
The contact stopped him.
It stopped her too.
She had never touched him before.
Not intentionally.
For half a second, neither moved.
Then she withdrew her hand.
“Let him talk.”
Garrison looked at the place her fingers had been.
Then at Ethan.
“One minute.”
Ethan nodded.
“I met Briar three weeks ago because someone sent our office an anonymous packet. It contained transaction fragments tied to Halloran subsidiaries.”
Garrison's expression became dangerous.
“Someone used her to reach me.”
“I didn't know who she was when I first approached her.”
Briar felt betrayed.
“You asked me out because of work?”
“At first.”
“That is not an answer that gets better with additional words.”
“I was supposed to determine whether you knew anything.”
“And then?”
“I liked you.”
Garrison let out a quiet humorless laugh.
Ethan glared at him.
“Something funny?”
“Your timing.”
Briar closed her eyes.
“Fantastic. Both men in this car have investigated me without telling me.”
Neither answered.
“That was not an invitation to stay silent.”
Garrison said, “Mine was to protect you.”
Ethan said, “Mine was to protect an investigation.”
“Wonderful. I feel cherished.”
The car stopped.
Caleb turned.
“We're here.”
They entered the bank through a side security entrance.
The manager, Daniel Royce, waited pale-faced beside two officers from the private security company.
“Ms. Lane,” he said. “Mr. Halloran.”
“Show us,” Briar said.
Royce led them downstairs.
Her safe-deposit box sat open on a stainless-steel table.
Empty.
Briar stared.
Garrison watched her.
“What was inside?”
“A notebook.”
“Only that?”
“No.”
She hesitated.
“A flash drive.”
Ethan stepped closer.
“What was on it?”
“Copies of internal transfers.”
Garrison asked, “From Halloran?”
“Yes.”
“How far back?”
“Four years.”
Garrison's face changed.
Briar continued.
“When I was temporary staff, I noticed payments routed through three shell vendors. Each payment was under the reporting threshold. Same dates. Same approval pattern.”
“Whose authorization?”
“I couldn't prove it.”
“Briar.”
She looked at him.
“Victor's department.”
Nobody spoke.
Garrison turned slowly toward Caleb.
“Get Victor.”
Caleb reached for his phone.
Briar stopped him.
“Wait.”
Everyone looked at her.
She stepped toward the empty box.
Something was wrong.
The velvet lining had been disturbed.
She ran her finger along the back edge.
A small folded piece of paper was wedged beneath the metal lip.
She pulled it free.
The paper wasn't hers.
One sentence was typed across it.
YOU SHOULD HAVE LET HIM TAKE HARBOR ROUTE.
Garrison read over her shoulder.
His breathing changed.
Briar felt it.
Ethan said, “That's a threat.”
“No,” Briar whispered.
Garrison looked at her.
“What?”
She unfolded the paper fully.
Another line was printed below.
THIS TIME YOU WON'T GET A SECOND WARNING.
Garrison's phone rang.
Caleb answered his own at the same moment.
Both men listened.
Both men went still.
Garrison said, “Repeat that.”
His voice was colder than Briar had ever heard.
He lowered the phone.
“What happened?” she asked.
He looked at her.
“Victor's gone.”
Caleb added, “His house is empty.”
Ethan swore under his breath.
Briar looked at the threatening note.
Garrison folded it once.
Precise.
Controlled.
Then the bank manager cleared his throat.
“There's something else.”
They turned.
Royce looked terrified.
“The access log didn't only record an executive authorization.”
Garrison's eyes sharpened.
“What else?”
Royce swallowed.
“Someone entered the vault using Briar Lane's biometric profile.”
Briar stared at him.
“That is impossible.”
Royce shook his head.
“We verified it twice.”
Garrison stepped closer to the computer.
“Show me the camera.”
Royce opened the security recording.
A hooded figure appeared entering the vault.
The person paused beneath the camera.
Then lifted their face.
Briar stopped breathing.
Garrison's chair scraped backward.
May you like
Because the woman on the screen looked exactly like Briar.
And she was carrying Briar's notebook.
