Chapter 5 - What Clare Never Told Him
Dominic had never moved so quickly on the injured leg.
Pain tore through his knee as he crossed the library.
He ignored it.
“Cameras.”
Vincent was already on his phone.
“Pulling them.”
Dominic picked up Ellie’s wooden toy.
The broken buckle hung by one screw.
He remembered the child kneeling beside his leg.
Wrong.
One word.
One observation.
She had changed everything.
Now she was missing.
“Dominic.”
Arthur stood in the doorway.
“Don’t.”
Dominic looked at him.
“If you tell me to calm down, I’ll forget you’re sixty-one.”
“I was going to tell you not to assume Clare betrayed you.”
Dominic stared.
Arthur nodded toward the photograph.
“A meeting isn’t proof.”
Vincent looked up.
“Got video.”
They gathered around the tablet.
At 3:17 p.m., Clare left the library holding Ellie’s hand.
No struggle.
No visible threat.
One of the guards spoke to her.
She nodded.
The guards then drank from coffee cups delivered by a housekeeping employee.
Four minutes later, both were slumped in their chairs.
Clare reappeared.
This time a man in a maintenance uniform walked behind her.
Peter Lang.
Ellie held Clare’s hand.
They disappeared through the service corridor.
Dominic’s jaw tightened.
“She went willingly.”
“Maybe,” Vincent said.
Then the camera caught something else.
As Clare passed beneath the lens, she looked directly into it.
Her right hand rose.
Two fingers.
Then four.
Then two again.
Vincent frowned.
“What’s that?”
Dominic replayed it.
Clare was not waving.
She was signaling.
“242.”
Arthur looked at him.
“Meaning?”
Dominic knew.
“Her employee number.”
Vincent understood.
“Locker.”
They went downstairs.
Clare’s locker was number 242.
Inside they found her coat.
A lunch bag.
Ellie’s spare sweater.
And an envelope taped beneath the upper shelf.
Dominic opened it.
Inside was a photograph of Peter Lang with another man.
Martin Vale.
The photograph had been taken outside a rehabilitation equipment supplier.
On the back Clare had written:
If something happens to us, Peter said Martin Vale is paying someone inside the house. Peter is scared. He thinks they know he talked to me.
Vincent stared.
“She knew.”
“Part of it.”
There was another item.
A voice recorder.
Dominic pressed play.
Clare’s voice filled the narrow locker room.
“My name is Clare Rowan. I’m making this because I don’t know who I can trust.”
Dominic’s expression tightened.
“Peter Lang contacted me three weeks ago because he knew my husband, Sean. Peter and Sean worked together years ago. Peter told me he had seen someone entering Mr. Vale’s rehabilitation room after hours. He didn’t know what they were doing.”
A pause.
“I told him to report it. He said he couldn’t because the person had access to security.”
Vincent looked up.
Clare’s recording continued.
“Peter asked me to watch the hallway because housekeeping moves through the house without attracting attention. I agreed. I shouldn’t have. But he said someone might be hurting Mr. Vale.”
Another pause.
“Yesterday, Ellie wandered down the hallway looking for her rabbit. She saw Peter near the therapy room. I didn’t know she saw anything else.”
Dominic closed his eyes briefly.
Then Clare said something that made Vincent freeze.
“Peter believes Martin Vale has someone inside Dominic’s personal security team.”
The recording ended.
Nobody spoke.
Vincent looked at Dominic.
“I’ll pull every access record.”
Dominic shook his head.
“If Martin has someone that close, records can be altered.”
Arthur asked, “Then what?”
Dominic looked at Ellie’s broken toy.
“We think like Ellie.”
Arthur frowned.
Dominic held up the toy.
“We stop looking at what people say something is.”
He touched the broken latch.
“And look at whether the pieces fit.”
They reconstructed the day.
Who knew about the council meeting?
Dominic.
Arthur.
Six council members.
Vincent.
Dr. Mercer.
Dominic’s attorney.
Security scheduling.
Who knew Daniel had been secretly hired by Arthur?
Arthur.
Daniel.
And whoever had accessed Arthur’s private accounts.
Who could move through the estate without suspicion?
Several people.
But only one had arranged both Dominic’s security and medical transportation after the crash.
Vincent suddenly went still.
Dominic saw it.
“What?”
Vincent looked sick.
“My deputy.”
“Name.”
“Caleb Ross.”
Caleb had worked under Vincent for eight years.
He scheduled vehicles.
Cleared outside medical staff.
Managed security rotations.
And that morning, he had been the man who reported Daniel leaving the estate in Arthur’s car.
“Where is he?”
Vincent called.
No answer.
Another call.
Nothing.
Then Dominic’s phone rang.
Unknown number.
He answered.
“Dominic.”
His uncle’s voice.
Martin Vale.
Dominic had not heard it in almost three years.
“Where are they?”
Martin laughed softly.
“No hello?”
“Clare and Ellie.”
“Safe.”
“If you touch them—”
“I have no interest in hurting a housekeeper or her child.”
“Then release them.”
“I will.”
“When?”
“When you give me what your father stole.”
Dominic’s eyes hardened.
“He gave it to me.”
“He was dying and confused.”
“No. He knew exactly what he was doing.”
Martin’s voice cooled.
“I want controlling interest in Vale Maritime and the development companies.”
“No.”
“Then perhaps the little girl who notices everything will notice how expensive stubbornness can become.”
Dominic’s grip tightened.
Arthur stepped closer.
Vincent was already tracing the call.
Dominic kept Martin talking.
“You sabotaged my recovery.”
“I accelerated a conversation your family should have had fifteen years ago.”
“You caused the crash?”
Silence.
That silence answered enough.
Dominic’s face changed.
The accident on Lower Wacker had never made sense.
A delivery truck entered his lane.
The driver vanished.
Dominic had assumed it was bad luck.
Martin finally said, “Sign the transfer documents.”
“Where?”
“I’ll send instructions.”
The call ended.
Vincent looked up.
“Trace failed.”
Dominic stared at the phone.
Arthur spoke quietly.
“If Martin arranged the crash, this started before the brace.”
“Yes.”
Vincent’s phone buzzed.
A message.
An image appeared.
Clare and Ellie sat inside an unfamiliar room.
They were frightened but visibly unharmed.
Behind them was a concrete wall.
Dominic enlarged the image.
Nothing useful.
Then he noticed Ellie.
She was holding something.
Not her latch toy.
A small brass key.
And she was pointing it deliberately toward the camera.
Vincent stared.
“What is she doing?”
Dominic understood.
“She’s showing us something.”
“Showing us what?”
Dominic zoomed in.
Stamped into the brass key were three characters.
B-17.
Arthur’s face changed.
“I know that key.”
“Where?”
Arthur looked at Dominic.
“Your father’s old warehouse.”
May you like
And before Martin could send his instructions, Dominic knew exactly where he had taken them.
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