Chapter 6 - The Price of the Truth
Claire stared at Tasha’s photograph until the screen blurred.
Roman took the phone.
“No.”
Claire looked at him.
“You haven’t even heard what I’m going to say.”
“You’re not going.”
“They have my friend.”
“And they want you because they believe you have the drives.”
“Exactly.”
“They’ll kill you after you hand them over.”
“Then we don’t hand them over.”
Roman stared.
Claire pointed toward the federal agents arriving outside.
“We make copies.”
One agent shook his head.
“Too risky.”
“Tasha is already at risk.”
Roman’s gaze never left Claire.
“You’re not trained for this.”
“No.”
“You’re not law enforcement.”
“No.”
“You’re a waitress.”
Claire lifted her chin.
“And yet somehow I keep being the person in the room who notices when everyone else is wrong.”
Sofia covered a smile.
Roman did not.
But Claire saw the argument land.
Federal agents traced the image metadata.
Warehouse district.
Pier Seventeen.
The same area controlled by one of Vincent Vale’s old companies.
A plan formed.
Claire would appear to arrive alone.
The drives would contain encrypted copies.
Agents and Roman’s security would position outside.
Claire hated every part of it.
At 3:08 a.m., she walked into Warehouse 14 carrying a black case.
Her knees felt weak.
Her mouth was dry.
She kept moving anyway.
Andrew Pell stood beneath a hanging industrial light.
Tasha sat tied to a chair ten feet away.
Her eyes widened.
“Claire!”
“I’m okay.”
“You are absolutely not okay!”
Claire almost laughed.
Pell raised a handgun.
“Toss the case.”
Claire did.
He opened it.
Three drives.
“Where is Elena?”
“Safe.”
“Roman?”
“Probably murdering someone emotionally.”
Pell frowned.
Claire’s fear made her mouth reckless.
It always had.
“Let Tasha go.”
“Not yet.”
“You have what you wanted.”
“Not everything.”
A second figure stepped from the darkness.
Dr. Reeves.
Claire stared.
“You escaped too?”
“I was never arrested.”
“Congratulations.”
Reeves’s face twisted.
“You humiliated me.”
“You nearly killed a woman because you confused murder with medicine.”
“I spent twenty years building that research.”
“On people who didn’t consent.”
“They would have benefited.”
“Some died.”
His eyes sharpened.
“Progress has costs.”
Claire felt sick.
People like Reeves always found sophisticated words for cruelty.
Research.
Progress.
Necessity.
Never victims.
“Did you kill my father?”
Reeves went silent.
Claire stepped closer.
“Daniel Bennett.”
Recognition entered his eyes.
“He was persistent.”
“Did you kill him?”
Pell said, “Malcolm.”
Claire saw the warning.
There it was.
Truth.
She kept pressing.
“He found your program.”
Reeves smiled faintly.
“He found more than he understood.”
“You cut his brakes.”
Pell swore.
Reeves looked toward him.
That was enough.
Claire’s hidden microphone had captured it.
Outside, agents listened.
But they needed Tasha safe.
Claire moved slightly.
Pell raised the gun.
“Stop.”
Tasha spoke.
“Claire.”
Her voice had changed.
Claire looked at her.
Tasha’s eyes moved downward.
A broken piece of metal lay beside her chair.
She had been cutting through the plastic restraint behind her back.
Claire understood.
She needed time.
“So Isabella ordered all this?” Claire asked.
Reeves laughed.
“Isabella?”
Pell looked furious.
“Shut up.”
But Reeves had waited too long to be respected.
His ego wanted an audience.
“Isabella is useful. She thought this was about inheritance.”
Claire frowned.
“What was it really about?”
“The Vale medical network.”
Claire understood.
Clinics.
Private patients.
Trials.
Distribution.
Money.
“Vincent started it?”
“Yes.”
“And after he died?”
Reeves smiled.
“We continued.”
“Using his identity.”
“Among others.”
“Who ordered my father killed?”
Reeves stepped closer.
“You really want to know?”
Claire forced herself not to retreat.
“Yes.”
He leaned toward her.
“Your father wasn’t killed because of what he discovered.”
Claire’s heart pounded.
“He was killed because of who he gave it to.”
“Elena.”
“No.”
Claire froze.
Reeves smiled.
“Sofia.”
Claire looked toward Pell.
He appeared nervous.
Reeves continued.
“Daniel helped Sofia disappear. Vincent panicked. He believed she could destroy everything.”
“So Vincent ordered my father’s death.”
Reeves nodded.
Claire swallowed.
Vincent Vale.
Dead five years.
The murderer had escaped justice through death.
But Reeves had helped.
Pell had helped.
And they were alive.
Tasha’s restraint snapped.
She moved.
Pell turned.
Claire lunged.
The warehouse exploded into motion.
Tasha threw herself sideways.
Claire slammed the case into Pell’s arm.
The gun fell.
Federal agents burst through both entrances.
“FBI! DOWN!”
Reeves ran.
Roman appeared from the side entrance despite explicit orders to remain outside.
Claire had never been happier to see an unreasonable man in black.
Pell was tackled.
Reeves reached a service door.
Sofia stepped through it.
He stopped.
She stared at him.
“Hello, Malcolm.”
His face collapsed.
Police surrounded him.
Within seconds, it was over.
Claire rushed to Tasha.
“You okay?”
Tasha stared at her.
“You owe me six years of free brunch.”
“Done.”
“Good.”
Then Tasha hugged her so hard Claire almost fell.
Roman approached.
He checked Claire’s face.
Her arms.
Her hands.
“Are you hurt?”
“No.”
He looked furious.
“Why are you angry?”
“Because you lunged at a man with a gun.”
“I improvised.”
“You nearly gave me a heart attack.”
Claire blinked.
Roman realized what he had said.
Tasha looked between them.
“Oh.”
Claire pointed.
“Don’t.”
Tasha smiled.
“I said nothing.”
The arrests spread over the next forty-eight hours.
Reeves cooperated after learning Pell planned to blame everything on him.
Pell cooperated after learning Reeves had done the same.
Isabella was arrested for forgery, conspiracy, obstruction, and financial crimes.
She claimed she never knew the medical program involved deaths.
Investigators found evidence proving she had known enough.
The missing envelope was recovered from Pell’s apartment.
Inside was a copy of Vincent Vale’s recorded order to sabotage Daniel Bennett’s car.
Claire listened once.
Never again.
Her father had not died because he was careless.
He had died because he tried to protect people.
That truth hurt.
But it also gave her something grief had denied for six years.
An answer.
Three weeks later, Claire returned to the Grand Aurelia.
Not as a waitress.
Elena had invited her to a private dinner.
Only five people attended.
Elena.
Sofia.
Roman.
Tasha.
Claire.
The ballroom looked different without two hundred guests.
Smaller.
Less intimidating.
Roman stood near the same table where he had grabbed Claire’s arms.
She walked over.
“You’re staring.”
“I’m remembering.”
“The part where you threatened me?”
“I apologized.”
“You did.”
“I could apologize again.”
“That would damage your reputation.”
He smiled.
A real smile this time.
Claire’s chest did something inconvenient.
Roman became serious.
“My mother wants to offer you a position.”
Claire sighed.
“I knew it.”
“Director of patient advocacy.”
“At the foundation?”
“Yes.”
“I have no degree for that.”
“They’ll pay for one.”
Claire stared.
Roman continued.
“Your job would be making sure nobody with money, status, or a medical title gets to silence the person actually paying attention.”
“That sounds suspiciously tailored.”
“It is.”
Claire looked toward Elena.
She was laughing with Sofia.
A family repaired, imperfectly.
Claire thought of her father.
Maybe this was the kind of work he would have understood.
“I’ll think about it.”
Roman nodded.
“And there’s something else.”
“Oh no.”
He reached into his jacket.
Claire narrowed her eyes.
“If that’s a contract—”
“It isn’t.”
He handed her an envelope.
Inside was a photograph.
Daniel Bennett.
Standing beside Elena.
Smiling.
On the back, Elena had written:
HE REFUSED TO LOOK AWAY.
Claire’s eyes filled.
Roman spoke quietly.
“My mother thought you should have it.”
Claire pressed the photograph to her chest.
“Thank you.”
Roman looked at her.
For a long moment, neither said anything.
Then Roman took one step closer.
“Dinner.”
Claire raised an eyebrow.
“We are currently at dinner.”
“Another dinner.”
“With your mother?”
“No.”
“Sofia?”
“No.”
“Tasha?”
“Absolutely not.”
Claire smiled.
“You’re asking me on a date?”
Roman looked almost uncomfortable.
The terrifying Roman Vale.
Uncomfortable.
Claire enjoyed it immensely.
“Yes.”
She let him wait.
“Maybe.”
His eyes narrowed.
“Maybe?”
“You grabbed me the first time we met.”
“You were endangering my blood pressure.”
“You were endangering your mother.”
He sighed.
“Claire.”
She smiled.
“Yes.”
His expression softened.
Then a phone rang behind them.
Sofia answered.
Her smile disappeared.
Roman turned.
“What?”
Sofia slowly lowered the phone.
“The federal prosecutor found another account.”
Roman’s expression hardened.
“Whose?”
Sofia looked directly at Claire.
“It was opened in Daniel Bennett’s name.”
May you like
Claire stopped breathing.
And the account was still active.
