Chapter 6 - The Ledger
“Down!”
Marcus slammed Evelyn to the floor.
The window shattered.
A bullet struck the wall.
Adrian pulled Laura behind a concrete column.
Thomas crawled toward Evelyn.
“Back stairwell!”
Marcus fired toward the neighboring rooftop.
Another shot cracked.
Then silence.
They escaped through the basement.
Marcus drove.
No one spoke until the hospice disappeared behind them.
Evelyn sat opposite Adrian in the armored SUV.
He stared at her.
She stared back.
Eight years of questions existed between them.
Actually twelve.
But there was no time.
“Where is the ledger?” Adrian asked.
Pain crossed Evelyn’s face.
No hello.
No embrace.
He hated himself for it.
But anger was easier than grief.
“In the penthouse.”
Laura frowned.
“I searched everywhere.”
“You searched the rooms.”
Evelyn looked at Adrian.
“Richard hid it inside something nobody would remove.”
“What?”
“The Steinway.”
Adrian pictured the black grand piano in his living room.
His mother used to play every Sunday.
After her “death,” his father never allowed anyone to move it.
Adrian had kept it for the same reason.
Memory.
“The piano.”
Evelyn nodded.
“Inside the soundboard compartment.”
Marcus changed direction immediately.
“Then we go home.”
“No,” Evelyn said.
“Why?”
“Because Graham knows.”
Adrian looked at her.
“How?”
“I told him.”
The vehicle went silent.
Thomas stared.
“You what?”
Evelyn closed her eyes.
“He found me two months ago.”
Adrian felt something inside him collapse.
“You’re working with him.”
“No.”
“You told him where the ledger is.”
“He threatened Laura.”
Laura stiffened.
“Me?”
Evelyn nodded.
“He knew Thomas survived. He knew about Northstar. He didn’t know you controlled it, but he knew you mattered.”
Adrian leaned forward.
“What exactly did you tell him?”
“That Richard kept evidence in the penthouse.”
“Not the piano?”
“No.”
Adrian exhaled.
Then Evelyn looked ashamed.
“But he knows I’m here now.”
Marcus checked the rearview mirror.
“We’re being followed.”
Two black SUVs appeared behind them.
“Of course we are,” Marcus muttered.
They cut through side streets.
The chase lasted twelve minutes.
Marcus lost one vehicle beneath Lower Wacker.
The second remained.
Finally, he entered a private garage beneath a security firm he trusted.
Metal gates closed behind them.
“We have maybe an hour,” he said.
Adrian looked at Laura.
“The piano.”
She nodded.
Evelyn spoke.
“You can’t go.”
“I have to.”
“Graham will be waiting.”
“Then he can wait.”
Laura stepped closer.
“I’ll go.”
Adrian stared.
“No.”
She lifted an eyebrow.
“You were doing very well with boundaries.”
He almost smiled despite everything.
“You’re right.”
Thomas protested.
Laura ignored him.
“My father taught me the penthouse service routes. I can enter through the mechanical floor.”
Marcus nodded reluctantly.
“That might work.”
Adrian shook his head.
“We go together.”
Laura looked at him.
“No employer orders?”
“No.”
“Good.”
At 3:45 p.m., Adrian and Laura entered the building through an adjoining tower’s maintenance bridge.
The penthouse appeared empty.
Too empty.
They reached the piano.
Laura knelt.
“Here.”
A small panel beneath the rear frame.
Adrian opened it.
Inside was a thick leather ledger wrapped in plastic.
He pulled it free.
Forty-seven pages.
Account numbers.
Dates.
Signatures.
Graham Cole.
Samuel Price.
Two judges.
A deputy mayor.
Three Cole Meridian executives.
And one name Adrian never expected.
Richard Cole.
He stared.
“My father was involved.”
Laura looked closer.
“Maybe.”
“He signed payments.”
“Look at the dates.”
Adrian did.
Richard’s signature appeared only after Evelyn’s disappearance.
“He paid them.”
Evelyn’s explanation returned to him.
Protection.
His father had discovered Graham but may have continued payments to keep Adrian safe.
It didn’t excuse everything.
But it changed the shape of the betrayal.
Laura flipped pages.
“Here.”
A handwritten margin note.
R.C.: PAYMENTS CONTINUED UNDER DURESS. EVIDENCE RETAINED FOR DOJ.
That was enough.
Maybe.
Adrian photographed every page.
He uploaded copies to three secure servers.
Then the elevator chimed.
Laura froze.
Someone was coming.
They moved toward the service corridor.
Too late.
Graham Cole entered the living room.
Sixty-one.
Silver-haired.
Perfect suit.
Calm smile.
Four security men behind him.
“Adrian.”
Adrian stepped in front of Laura.
Graham noticed and laughed.
“The housekeeper.”
Laura said nothing.
“You always did inherit Richard’s weakness for rescuing people.”
Adrian held up the ledger.
“It’s over.”
Graham smiled.
“No. It’s paper.”
“Copies are already uploaded.”
“To whom?”
Adrian lied.
“Federal prosecutors.”
For the first time, Graham’s expression flickered.
Then he recovered.
“No, they aren’t.”
“How would you know?”
“Because your federal contact works for me.”
Adrian’s stomach tightened.
Graham stepped closer.
“You’ve spent your entire life believing wealth meant power.”
He glanced at Laura.
“It doesn’t.”
Adrian said, “What does?”
“Information.”
Graham smiled.
“And I know exactly who Laura Hayes is.”
Laura’s face remained steady.
“Do you?”
“Northstar.”
Silence.
Graham’s smile widened.
Thomas had been wrong.
Graham knew.
“You hold eleven percent,” he said. “You will vote those shares for me tonight.”
Laura answered quietly.
“No.”
Graham sighed.
“Your father made the same mistake.”
Adrian stepped forward.
“What did you do to Thomas?”
“Not enough, apparently.”
Graham’s men moved closer.
Then a voice came from the hallway.
“Chicago Police! Hands where we can see them!”
Graham’s expression changed.
Marcus entered behind two detectives.
Then Evelyn.
Graham stared at her.
“You.”
She held up her phone.
“Everything you just said was recorded.”
Graham laughed.
“Illegally.”
Marcus smiled.
“Not in Illinois anymore, genius. You consented when you entered a monitored private residence after receiving posted notice.”
Graham looked toward the entry panel.
A tiny security notification displayed recording-in-progress.
His face finally cracked.
Police moved in.
But before they could cuff him, Graham said:
“You think tonight’s vote matters?”
Adrian stopped.
Graham looked directly at Laura.
“You don’t have eleven percent anymore.”
Laura’s face changed.
“What?”
“I exercised the Northstar conversion clause at noon.”
“That requires trustee authorization.”
“I had it.”
“From who?”
Graham smiled.
“Thomas Hayes.”
Laura turned slowly toward her father.
Thomas stood beside the elevator.
He looked devastated.
Laura whispered, “Dad?”
Thomas could not meet her eyes.
Graham laughed as the officers dragged him away.
Then Laura’s phone buzzed.
A voting notice filled the screen.
NORTHSTAR CUSTODIAL TRUST — CONTROL TRANSFER COMPLETE.
May you like
AUTHORIZED SIGNATORY:
THOMAS HAYES.
