Chapter 7
Thomas had been beside me for twenty-two years.
We were roommates freshman year.
He stood next to me at my father’s funeral.
I had held his first daughter in the hospital.
He had been the first person I called after I proposed to Isabella.
If Isabella had been sent into my life three years ago, Thomas had been there long before Adrian knew how powerful I might become.
At least that was what I wanted to believe.
I called him.
No answer.
Again.
No answer.
On the third call, he picked up.
“Nate.”
His voice sounded wrong.
“Where are you?”
“At the office.”
“I know.”
Silence.
“Why are you there at five in the morning?”
“Couldn’t sleep.”
“Why did twelve million dollars just leave one of our development accounts?”
No response.
“Thomas.”
“It’s not what you think.”
I closed my eyes.
That sentence had become the anthem of betrayal.
“Then tell me what it is.”
“I need you to come here.”
“No.”
“Nate.”
“Tell me now.”
“I can’t.”
“Can’t or won’t?”
His breathing changed.
Then he whispered, “They have Emily.”
I sat up straight.
Thomas’s daughter.
Twenty years old.
A sophomore at Columbia.
“What happened?”
“She disappeared last night.”
“Did you call police?”
“No.”
“Why?”
“They sent me a video.”
“Who?”
“I don’t know.”
I knew.
“Adrian?”
Thomas went silent.
“What did he tell you to do?”
“Authorize the transfer.”
“And you did?”
“I had to.”
“You should have called me.”
“He said if I called anyone, she’d die.”
I looked at Daniel.
He could see something had changed.
I put the call on speaker.
“Thomas, listen to me. We’re contacting police.”
“No!”
“If they have Emily, this is bigger than money.”
“He’ll know.”
“How?”
“He knows everything.”
That sentence bothered me.
“What does that mean?”
“He sent pictures of my house. My wife. Emily’s dorm.”
“Thomas, how long has Adrian been contacting you?”
No answer.
I stood.
“How long?”
“Six months.”
My heart sank.
Mom whispered, “Oh, Thomas.”
He heard her.
“Evelyn?”
“She’s here.”
“Thank God.”
“Why?”
“Because Isabella called me yesterday asking whether Evelyn had spoken to you.”
I turned to Mom.
“When?”
“Before the rooftop.”
Thomas sounded like he was crying.
“I should have warned you.”
“Yes.”
“I thought it was just about money.”
“You knew Isabella was working with Adrian?”
“I knew she had contact with somebody named Cole.”
“For six months.”
“I didn’t know he was your brother until last week.”
“You still said nothing.”
“I was trying to protect my family.”
“So was I.”
My voice broke harder than I wanted.
“You knew the woman I was going to marry was lying to me.”
“I didn’t know how deep it went.”
“You knew enough.”
Thomas breathed heavily.
Then he said, “There’s something else.”
I almost laughed.
“Of course there is.”
“The twelve million didn’t leave the company.”
Daniel leaned toward the phone.
“What do you mean?”
“I redirected it.”
“To where?”
“A frozen intermediary account.”
Daniel looked impressed despite himself.
“You stalled the transfer.”
“I bought maybe six hours.”
“Does Adrian know?”
“Not yet.”
“Then we use them.”
Thomas exhaled.
“I have the video he sent.”
“Forward it.”
Seconds later, the file arrived.
Emily sat in a chair inside what looked like a basement.
Her hands were bound.
She was crying.
Behind her was a bare concrete wall.
A man’s voice spoke from off-camera.
Authorize the transfer before 5:00 a.m.
Do not contact police.
Do not contact Nathaniel.
Thomas played the role he always plays.
The loyal friend.
If he makes one wrong move, your daughter pays for it.
My blood chilled.
I replayed the last sentence.
“The loyal friend.”
Thomas whispered, “Yeah.”
“He knows us.”
“He knows everything.”
Marcus stepped closer to the screen.
“Send me the original file.”
“Why?”
“Metadata.”
Within minutes, police cyber investigators were involved.
Thomas finally agreed.
Maybe because there was no longer anything left to hide.
Maybe because his daughter mattered more than Adrian’s threats.
The video metadata had been scrubbed.
But the room gave us something else.
A sound.
Every nineteen seconds, there was a low metallic rumble followed by two sharp bells.
Marcus recognized it.
“Freight elevator.”
“Where?”
“Could be anywhere.”
Mom stared at the video.
“Play it again.”
I did.
She watched.
“Again.”
The rumble.
Two bells.
Then Emily shifted, revealing part of a painted number behind her chair.
Mom looked at me.
“Your father’s old laundry building.”
I frowned.
“What?”
“Before Whitmore bought hotels, Charles owned an industrial laundry facility in Queens.”
I remembered hearing about it.
The building had been sold years ago.
“Why would Adrian use it?”
“It wasn’t sold.”
Daniel looked up.
“I thought it was transferred.”
“To a shell company,” Mom said. “Charles kept it because Adrian once lived in the apartment upstairs.”
I stared at her.
“You think he still controls it?”
“I think he knows it.”
Police moved fast.
For once, I stayed behind.
Not because I wanted to.
Because Detective Lena Ortiz threatened to have an officer physically restrain me if I interfered with a hostage rescue.
The next ninety minutes were unbearable.
Thomas came to the penthouse.
His face looked twenty years older.
Neither of us apologized.
Neither of us forgave.
We just waited.
At 7:32 a.m., Ortiz called.
“We found Emily.”
Thomas collapsed into a chair.
“Alive?”
“Alive.”
He covered his face.
I shut my eyes.
“Anyone arrested?”
“One man. Not Cole.”
“Who?”
“A security contractor.”
“Adrian?”
“Gone.”
Thomas asked to speak to Emily.
Ortiz arranged it.
The girl could barely talk.
“Dad?”
Thomas started sobbing.
“I’m here, baby.”
“I thought you weren’t coming.”
“I’m sorry.”
“You told me never to get into a stranger’s car.”
Thomas laughed through tears.
“Yeah.”
“He wasn’t a stranger.”
The room went quiet.
“What?”
Emily sniffed.
“I knew him.”
Thomas looked at me.
“Who?”
“He came to our house.”
“When?”
“Lots of times when I was little.”
Thomas went pale.
“What did he look like?”
“He’s older now.”
“Emily, what was his name?”
She paused.
“Uncle Adrian.”
Thomas stopped breathing.
I stared at him.
“Uncle?”
His face collapsed.
“Nate.”
I knew before he said it.
“You knew him longer than six months.”
Thomas started shaking.
“Nate, I can explain.”
“No.”
“He was my mother’s cousin.”
My head spun.
“What?”
“Adrian found me in college.”
Twenty-two years ago.
Before Whitmore Hospitality became mine.
Before Isabella.
Before my engagement.
Before my father died.
Adrian hadn’t recently entered my life.
He had been standing beside me for decades.
Through Thomas.
Thomas whispered, “He told me you were his brother sophomore year.”
I felt something inside me go quiet.
Not rage.
Something worse.
Trust dying.
“How long have you been reporting to him?”
“I wasn’t.”
“How long?”
“I gave him information sometimes.”
“What information?”
“Nothing that seemed dangerous.”
“My schedule?”
“Yes.”
“My father?”
“Yes.”
“My relationships?”
Thomas looked down.
“Yes.”
“Did you tell him about the museum fundraiser?”
“No.”
“Did you help Isabella?”
“No.”
“Did you know why she met me?”
“Not then.”
I moved toward him.
Marcus stepped closer, but I held up my hand.
I wasn’t going to hit him.
That would have been easier.
“Were you working with Adrian when my father died?”
Thomas looked at me.
And that was when I knew.
He had another secret.
“Nate.”
I felt my stomach turn.
“What did you do?”
“I didn’t start the fire.”
“What did you do?”
May you like
His eyes filled with tears.
“I gave Adrian your father’s room number.”
