Chapter 11 - The Fire in the West Wing.
Adrian looked up at Victor Hale.
“Anything you need to say can be said here.”
Victor’s smile remained professional.
“This concerns the company.”
“So does everyone at this table.”
Victor glanced around the dining room.
Then his eyes settled on Gavin.
“You really want to do this in front of them?”
Adrian’s voice lowered.
“I want to know why you were at my clinic the night I regained consciousness.”
Victor stopped smiling.
The room became silent.
Gavin looked from Adrian to Victor.
“What is he talking about?”
Victor straightened his jacket.
“I visited Adrian several times.”
“At one eighteen in the morning?” Adrian asked.
Victor did not answer quickly enough.
Adrian continued.
“You brought documents.”
Victor exhaled through his nose.
“The company was in crisis.”
“What documents?”
“A temporary voting proxy.”
Gavin pushed back from the table.
“You told me he had already agreed to that.”
Victor turned toward him.
“He had discussed it.”
“I refused it,” Adrian said.
Victor looked at him.
“You were barely conscious.”
“And I still refused.”
Emma watched from the doorway now, Marcus beside her.
Victor finally noticed her.
His expression changed for only a second.
Recognition.
Not of Emma herself.
Of a problem he had underestimated.
Adrian saw it.
“You know who she is.”
“I know she is a member of your staff.”
“Her name appeared on a foundation payment she never received.”
Victor’s eyes flicked toward Celeste’s empty chair.
That was enough.
Before Adrian could ask another question, a sharp alarm sounded through the mansion.
Red lights began flashing above the doors.
Marcus touched his earpiece.
“Smoke sensor, west wing.”
Adrian’s eyes went cold.
“The archive room.”
Everyone stood at once.
Victor remained seated for half a second longer.
Emma noticed.
Then the sprinklers activated in the west corridor.
Staff moved quickly toward the designated exits while security headed toward the alarm.
Adrian caught Emma’s sleeve as she passed him.
“You stay with Marcus.”
“I will.”
“Emma.”
She met his eyes.
“I mean it.”
She nodded.
They moved into the corridor.
The air smelled damp and smoky, but the automatic system had already contained the small fire near the archive entrance.
No one was hurt.
Several cardboard storage boxes, however, were soaked beyond use.
Marcus examined the damaged lock.
“This wasn’t electrical.”
Adrian looked at Victor.
Victor raised both hands.
“Don’t look at me.”
Then Emma saw movement near the far staircase.
Celeste.
She was walking away from the west wing with a small metal cashbox pressed against her side.
“Marcus.”
He followed Emma’s gaze.
Celeste saw them.
She stopped.
For one strange second, nobody moved.
Then Celeste placed the cashbox on a console table.
“You are making a serious mistake,” she said.
Adrian rolled closer.
“So are you.”
Celeste’s composure finally broke.
“You have no idea what you are protecting.”
Adrian looked at the cashbox.
“Open it.”
Celeste laughed softly.
“You don’t have the key.”
Emma reached into her apron pocket.
She had forgotten she was still carrying the second brass key Peter had given Marcus.
Marcus had handed it back to her during the evacuation without thinking.
Emma held it up.
Celeste’s face went white.
Adrian looked at Emma.
“Apparently we do.”
The key turned smoothly.
Inside the box was the missing voice recorder.
There was also a sealed envelope addressed in Adrian’s own handwriting.
May you like
He stared at it.
He had no memory of writing it.
