Chapter 7 - The Price of Silence
Mara kept her hands visible.
“Put the gun down.” Solomon stood above the boathouse floor, one foot on the wooden stairs. The weapon shook slightly, but his eyes were fixed and bright.
He looked less like a criminal than a man who had crossed a line and discovered there was no bridge back. Jennifer clutched the folder.
“You said Roane had Gideon.” “He did.” “Then where is he?” Solomon’s mouth tightened.
“Safe.” “You expect us to believe that?” Mara asked.
“I expect you to understand that everyone here wants something.” The river struck the pilings beneath them.
Mara heard the faint hiss of the surveillance microphone sewn into her coat, but there was no response from Omar. The loft blocked the signal.
“What do you want?” she asked.
“The recording.” “You have it.” “The original.” Mara looked at the device in his hand.
“That is the original.” “No. It’s a copy.” Jennifer’s face drained of color.
“You knew?” “I knew Gideon made a second copy.” Solomon moved the gun toward her.
“The real one is in the house.” Mara remembered the metal cabinet, the loose floorboard beneath the furnace, and the phrase in her father’s note. If Solomon had searched the basement, he had not found the hidden compartment beneath the cabinet.
“Why did you marry me?” she asked. Solomon looked wounded.
“Because I loved you.” “And after that?” “After that, I discovered your father had access to money that could solve everything.” “You mean the house.” “I mean the trust.” The word struck Mara with new force. Gideon had not merely kept the property in his name.
He had created a trust, and Solomon had known enough to believe it contained more than real estate. Jennifer shook her head.
“You said the trust held only the house.” Solomon smiled without warmth.
“I said what I needed you to believe.” Mara felt the shape of the conspiracy shift.
Jennifer had been using Solomon to locate the evidence, but Solomon had been using Jennifer to reach the trust. Charlotte had helped him because she believed silence could save him. None of them had been fully aligned, yet every betrayal had pushed Mara toward danger.
“Where is Charlotte?” Mara asked.
“At the house.” “With Theo?” “Your neighbor took him.” Mara’s breath released in a rush.
“You left him with no one?” “My mother is there.” “She is part of this.” For the first time, Solomon looked ashamed.
“She loves him.” “Love does not excuse what she taught him.” Jennifer stepped toward the stairs.
“Solomon, you said this was about retrieving the recording.
You did not say you were going to threaten Mara.” “You brought her here.” “Because you said Gideon was dying.” “He is dying.” The cruelty of the statement silenced the room. Mara watched Solomon’s finger tighten near the trigger.
“What did Roane threaten you with?” He looked at her.
“My mother was involved in the payment transfers. She helped Victor move the money.
When Victor wanted out, she told Roane where he was going.” “She betrayed Victor.” “She thought he would expose all of us.” “And you?” “I was fifteen. I did not know what she had done.” “But you learned later.” Solomon lowered his gaze.
“Roane showed me the evidence when I was twenty-three. He said if I did not work for him, he would send my mother to prison.
He kept me dependent. The agency account was one of the ways I paid him.” Mara almost felt pity. Then she remembered the forged signature and Theo’s whispered fear.
“You had choices,” she said.
“Not the choices you think.” “You could have told me.” “Would you have stayed?” The question struck its target. Mara did not know.
She knew only that secrecy had stolen her ability to choose. A noise came from outside. Tires slid on gravel. Rhea’s voice called through a loudspeaker.
“Solomon Reed, put the weapon down.” Solomon spun toward the windows. Jennifer dropped the folder.
Mara kicked it beneath a crate.
“Don’t!” Solomon shouted. The gun fired.
The shot shattered a hanging lantern. Glass rained across the floor. Theo’s face flashed through Mara’s mind, and instinct took over. She lunged at Solomon as he stumbled down the stairs.
They hit the floor together. The gun skidded beneath a crate. Solomon struck her shoulder, then froze when he saw blood on her sleeve from the shattered glass.
“Mara,” he whispered. She shoved him away.
“You don’t get to say my name like you still own it.” Rhea and Omar stormed inside. Jennifer raised her hands and began to cry.
Solomon looked toward the gun, then toward the river. Before Omar could reach him, Solomon ran through the rear door. Rhea followed. Mara crawled toward the blue folder, but Jennifer grabbed her wrist.
“Wait,” Jennifer said.
“Let go.” “The folder is a decoy.” Mara stared at her. Jennifer pulled a small memory card from the lining of her coat.
“I found the real recording before I came here.” “Where?” Jennifer’s eyes filled with terror as she looked toward the open door.
“In the camera system,” she said.
“The last thing it recorded before the night Victor died was not Victor falling into the river.” Omar returned alone.
“Solomon is gone,” he said.
May you like
“But we found this in the mud.” He held up a child’s red plastic bracelet. Theo’s name was written on the inside.
Jennifer whispered, “Roane has your son.”
