Chapter 13 - Forty-Eight Hours
Friday was less than forty-eight hours away.
The court scheduled an emergency hearing on Nathan’s petition for Thursday afternoon.
If Nathan convinced a judge that the transfer was valid, my voting rights could be frozen pending investigation.
Maya prepared to destroy the fake video.
Daniel searched for Celeste.
My father remained hidden.
My mother did something I never expected.
She handed Maya a key to a private records vault.
“Everything I kept from Martin is there.”
Maya looked at her.
“Why keep evidence if you were protecting him?”
“I wasn’t protecting him.”
My mother met my eyes.
“I was protecting myself.”
At least she had stopped pretending.
The vault contained fifteen years of financial records.
Payments.
Threatening letters.
Copies of altered contracts.
Photographs of Martin meeting regulators, bankers, even judges.
He had built influence carefully.
Not enough to control the world.
Enough to frighten people into thinking he could.
Then I found a file marked NATHAN.
Inside were photographs taken before Nathan and I ever met.
Nathan meeting Martin.
Nathan meeting Celeste.
Nathan standing outside my office.
Nathan attending events where I was present without ever approaching me.
He had studied me for six months before our so-called accidental meeting.
I sat down.
My father touched my shoulder.
“I’m sorry.”
“I married a research project.”
“No.”
I looked at him.
“He learned what coffee I drank.”
“What music I liked.”
“What charities I supported.”
“He knew exactly what kind of man I would trust.”
My voice cracked.
“He became that man.”
My father didn’t offer comforting lies.
“That’s what predators do.”
I wiped my eyes.
Then I kept reading.
One invoice caught my attention.
Nathan had received $250,000 from Martin three weeks after our engagement.
Another payment came after our wedding.
Then regular transfers stopped.
Two years ago, Nathan began paying Martin instead.
That was the moment the relationship changed.
Nathan stopped being Martin’s employee.
He started buying something from him.
“What?”
Daniel examined the accounts.
“Information.”
“About what?”
He traced the receiving company.
Then he found a reference code.
J.C. LOCATION SERVICES.
My father stared.
“Nathan was paying Martin to find me.”
The room went silent.
“Why would he want Dad?”
Daniel answered.
“Maybe Nathan realized a living Jonathan Carlisle invalidates documents Martin filed after his supposed death.”
Maya looked up.
“And a living Jonathan could challenge the administration of every trust.”
Nathan hadn’t merely become greedy.
He had been planning to betray Martin too.
Suddenly my phone rang.
Nathan.
I answered.
“What do you want?”
His voice was barely audible.
“I know where Celeste is.”
I froze.
“Where?”
“You give me immunity on the share transfer.”
“You don’t get to bargain.”
“Then she dies.”
My father stood.
“Nathan.”
Silence.
Then Nathan whispered:
“Jonathan?”
He sounded genuinely terrified.
My father leaned toward the phone.
“You should be.”
Nathan breathed heavily.
Then said:
“Martin has Celeste at the old Carlisle cutting facility in Queens.”
“How do you know?”
May you like
“Because I helped him take her there.”
The line went dead.
