Chapter 9 - The Man Who Kept the Ledger
The SUV’s headlights flooded the trees. Sloan stood between them and the road with two armed men behind him. Snow fell through the beams, turning the forest into a theater where everyone had forgotten their lines.
“Let Mara go,” Marco said.
Sloan smiled. “You sound like Victor.”
“That’s the last thing you should call me.”
“Your father was a complicated man.”
“He was a criminal.”
“He was an innovator.”
Mara stepped beside Marco. “You kept records of the women.”
Sloan’s smile faded. “You have your mother’s courage. It will not help you.”
“Where is Lena?”
“You should ask Elizabeth.”
“We did.”
“Then you know she is alive.”
Marco’s pulse kicked. “You have her.”
“I have information about her.”
“What do you want?”
“Your controlling shares.”
Sloan held up the remote. “Your father created a succession clause. If you are judged mentally unfit or unable to manage the company, the board can transfer control to an emergency trustee.”
“You’re the emergency trustee.”
“I am the only person who understands what your father built.”
“You mean what he stole.”
“Words are tools, Marco. Use the wrong one and people die.”
Behind Sloan, one of the armed men shifted. The man wore a gray scarf around his neck. Marco recognized the crescent tattoo on his wrist.
It was not one of the maids. It was a former driver named Abel, who had worked for Elizabeth when Marco was a child.
“You recruited her staff,” Marco said.
“I recruited people who understand loyalty.”
“You recruited people who were afraid.”
“Fear is the most reliable form of loyalty.”
Sloan pressed the remote. A distant boom rolled across the estate. Flames rose beyond the trees where Bellwether’s east garage stood.
“The house is full of evidence,” he said. “In fifteen minutes, it will be full of ash.”
“You’re going to burn Bellwether.”
“The insurance company will call it an electrical fault.”
“And my mother?”
“She will be remembered as a tragic casualty.”
Mara moved suddenly. She threw a handful of snow into the nearest gunman’s eyes and kicked his knee. Marco lunged at Sloan, but Abel struck him in the ribs with a rifle butt. Pain exploded through his side.
Mara ran toward the woods.
“Take her!” Sloan shouted.
A gunshot cracked. Mara stumbled and fell behind a tree.
Marco roared and charged Abel. He caught the rifle, twisted, and drove his shoulder into the man’s chest. Abel went down. Darius emerged from the tunnel behind them and fired into the ground beside Sloan’s feet.
“Drop it!” Darius shouted.
Sloan raised the remote. “One more step and the west wing goes too.”
Elizabeth appeared in the tunnel doorway, smoke curling behind her.
“Adrian,” she said. “You always did prefer fire.”
Sloan looked at her. “You should have killed me in 1999.”
“I should have told the truth.”
“Truth is only useful when someone survives it.”
Mara crawled from behind the tree. Blood darkened her sleeve, but she was moving.
“The shot missed,” she called.
Marco took one step toward her.
Sloan pressed the remote again.
Nothing happened.
His expression changed.
Elizabeth held up a small device. “You’ve been using my detonators for twenty-five years. I changed the frequency last month.”
Darius fired. The weapon flew from Sloan’s hand. Abel surrendered. The second gunman ran into the trees and vanished.
Sloan dropped to his knees, but he was laughing.
“You think this ends with me?” he asked. “The ledger is already gone.”
Marco grabbed him by the collar. “Where is it?”
“With the person you trust most.”
His eyes moved toward Mara.
For one terrible second, Marco wondered whether Mara had known more than she admitted.
Then Elizabeth shouted, “The house!”
Flames climbed above the roofline. The east garage had collapsed, and fire was racing along a buried gas line toward the main building.
They dragged Mara to the tunnel. Marco stayed long enough to handcuff Sloan with Darius’s restraints.
“You’re not leaving me here,” Sloan said.
“No,” Marco answered. “You’re going to live long enough to testify.”
At the tunnel entrance, Elizabeth stumbled. Marco caught her.
“Leave me,” she said.
“Not this time.”
Together they descended beneath the house as sirens approached from the highway.
In the passage, Mara pressed a hand to her bleeding arm. “He was lying.”
“About the ledger?”
“About me.”
“How do you know?”
She reached inside her uniform and pulled out a thin metal drive.
“Because I have it.”
Marco stared at the drive. “Where did you get that?”
“Your mother gave it to me three months ago.”
Elizabeth looked away.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” Marco asked.
Mara’s eyes filled with anger and fear. “Because I didn’t know whether you were part of the secret or just another person trapped inside it.”
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The tunnel shook. Dust rained from the ceiling.
Above them, Bellwether House began to burn.
