Chapter 12 - The Archive Burns
The Bennett Archive Center stood six miles south of downtown Chicago.
By the time we arrived, smoke was already curling from the upper windows.
Fire trucks blocked the street.
Police lights painted the limestone facade in flashes of red and blue.
People crowded behind barricades.
I got out of Ortiz’s unmarked car and stared at the building my grandfather had loved.
Flames flickered behind one of the second-floor windows.
“No.”
The word came out before I realized I had spoken.
Nora stepped out behind me.
James followed with another officer.
Preston remained in police custody at Union Station.
Ortiz had refused to bring him.
Good.
I could not look at him anymore.
A firefighter approached.
“You need to stay behind the line.”
Ortiz showed her credentials.
“What started it?”
“Unknown.”
“Anyone inside?”
“Security guard got out.”
“One maintenance worker unaccounted for.”
My stomach tightened.
“Richard?”
I asked.
Ortiz ignored me.
“Any vehicles seen leaving?”
The firefighter pointed toward a patrol officer.
“Talk to CPD.”
We moved.
Nora stared at the building.
“He knew.”
“About the second ledger?”
I asked.
“Yes.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Because I wasn’t sure it still existed.”
James turned toward her.
“You knew enough.”
Nora snapped,
“And you knew enough twelve years ago.”
“Stop.”
I said.
Both of them looked at me.
“I’m done listening to people fight over who failed me first.”
That silenced them.
Ortiz returned.
“Security footage shows a black sedan entering the rear lot twelve minutes before the fire alarm.”
“Plate?”
“Covered.”
“Driver?”
“Unknown.”
“Passenger?”
She looked at me.
“Your father.”
I felt nothing.
Maybe I had finally passed anger.
“What about the second ledger?”
Ortiz asked.
James pointed toward the building.
“Basement vault.”
“The fire is upstairs.”
Nora shook her head.
“He wouldn’t burn the building if he only wanted the ledger.”
“What does that mean?”
I asked.
“He wants everyone to think it was destroyed.”
James understood first.
“He already has it.”
Ortiz cursed.
Then a police radio crackled.
An officer hurried toward her.
“Detective.”
“What?”
“We found the sedan.”
“Where?”
“Two blocks east.”
“Empty.”
“Anything inside?”
“Blood.”
My heart dropped.
“Whose?”
I asked.
“No idea yet.”
Then the firefighter’s radio erupted.
Everyone turned toward the building.
A second-floor window shattered.
Smoke poured outward.
Someone shouted.
The crowd moved back.
Then a firefighter appeared at the entrance.
Two others carried someone between them.
A man.
Unconscious.
Gray work uniform.
The missing maintenance employee.
Alive.
Barely.
They placed him on a stretcher.
His face was covered in soot.
As paramedics moved him toward the ambulance, his eyes opened.
Just for a second.
He saw James.
Then me.
His hand lifted weakly.
“Bennett…”
I stepped closer.
Ortiz stopped me.
The man coughed.
“Vault…”
James leaned toward him.
“What about the vault?”
The man struggled for air.
“Empty.”
Nora closed her eyes.
My father had beaten us to it.
The paramedics rushed the man away.
Ortiz turned toward her team.
“Airport.”
“Train stations.”
“Tolls.”
“Private airfields.”
“I want Richard Bennett flagged everywhere.”
Then my phone rang.
Sophie’s secure room.
I answered immediately.
“Hello?”
The plainclothes officer assigned to her spoke.
“Ms. Bennett?”
“Yes.”
“Your daughter is fine.”
My knees weakened with relief.
“Then why are you calling?”
“Someone came asking for her.”
Every part of me went cold.
“Who?”
“A woman.”
“What woman?”
“She identified herself as family.”
“Name?”
The officer hesitated.
“Carolyn Bennett.”
My mother.
“Did you let her in?”
“No.”
“Good.”
“She left.”
“When?”
“Ten minutes ago.”
“Where?”
“We don’t know.”
I closed my eyes.
Then another call came through.
Madison.
I switched lines.
“Madison?”
She was crying.
“Evelyn.”
“What happened?”
“Your mother called me.”
“Why?”
“She wanted Preston’s backup phone.”
I looked at Ortiz.
“Why?”
“I don’t know.”
“She said Richard was destroying everything.”
“She said if I wanted to survive this family, I needed to choose a side.”
“What did you tell her?”
“That I already had.”
My breathing slowed.
“Where are you?”
“At the hotel.”
“Stay there.”
“I’m leaving.”
“No.”
“Madison.”
“She told me something.”
“What?”
“She said Richard wasn’t running.”
My stomach tightened.
“What does that mean?”
“She said he was going back to where it started.”
I looked at James.
“Where did this start?”
He frowned.
“The trust?”
“The fraud?”
“The family?”
Then Nora’s face changed.
“Your grandfather’s house.”
I stared at her.
“The old Bennett estate?”
“Yes.”
The property had been abandoned for years.
Lake Geneva.
Wisconsin.
Where my grandfather spent his final months.
Where the original trust had been signed.
Where James had confronted my father.
Where everything had begun.
Madison continued.
“Carolyn said there was one thing Richard could never risk anyone finding.”
“What?”
“She didn’t say.”
Then she whispered,
“But she sounded scared of him.”
The line disconnected.
I looked at Ortiz.
“We’re going to Lake Geneva.”
“No.”
“Yes.”
“You are going back to Sophie.”
“My mother just tried to reach her.”
“That’s exactly why.”
I stared at her.
Then I understood.
“You think Richard wants me to follow him.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because he knows you’ll come.”
James went pale.
“He’s not after the ledger anymore.”
Ortiz looked at him.
“What?”
James looked at me.
“There was something else at that house.”
“What?”
He hesitated.
Then Nora answered for him.
“A video deposition.”
My stomach tightened.
“Whose?”
“Your grandfather’s.”
“Recorded three days before he lost the ability to speak.”
I stopped breathing.
“What did he say?”
James looked toward the burning archive.
“He named Richard.”
“Named him for what?”
James met my eyes.
“For everything.”
My heart pounded.
“Where is the recording?”
“At the estate.”
“And Richard knows?”
“Yes.”
“Why didn’t he destroy it years ago?”
“Because he never found it.”
I stared at them.
Then my phone buzzed.
One message.
Unknown number.
A photograph loaded.
My mother.
Carolyn.
Sitting in a chair inside a dark room.
Her hands bound.
Behind her stood my father.
No smile.
No courtroom calm.
Only something cold.
Beneath the image was a message.
Bring the ledger to Lake Geneva.
A second message arrived.
Come alone.
May you like
Then a third.
Or your mother finally pays for choosing me.
