Chapter 5 - THE DINNER THAT NEVER EXISTED

The restaurant had closed twelve years earlier.

The building remained.

The records did not.

Someone had destroyed them.

Claire and Maya spent the next morning searching archived permits, credit-card records, and employee files.

Finally they found a former waiter.

Samuel Ortega.

He was seventy-one and living outside Milwaukee.

He remembered the dinner.

Not because of Claire’s father.

Because of the argument.

“They were yelling?”

Claire asked.

Samuel shook his head.

“Rich people don’t yell when they’re scared someone might hear them.”

“What happened?”

“Your father stood up.”

Samuel closed his eyes.

“He said something like, ‘If you file those papers, I go to the police.’”

Claire leaned forward.

“Who was he talking to?”

“The woman.”

“Evelyn?”

“Yes.”

“And then?”

“The lawyer told him to sit down.”

“Harold Price?”

Samuel nodded.

“Mr. Harrington looked sick.”

“Charles?”

“Yes.”

“He kept saying they could fix it.”

Claire’s heart pounded.

“Was there anyone else?”

Samuel hesitated.

“There was a fifth person.”

Claire and Maya exchanged glances.

“The photograph only shows four.”

“He came later.”

“Who?”

Samuel looked toward the window.

“I don’t remember his name.”

“What did he look like?”

“Tall.”

“Gray suit.”

“Gold watch.”

“Scar near his left ear.”

Claire froze.

She knew one man matching that description.

Richard Vale.

Current chairman of Harrington Maritime.

Her father’s former chief operating officer.

That afternoon, Claire confronted Richard in his office.

He smiled when she entered.

“Claire Donovan.”

“You remember me?”

“I remember your father.”

“Then you remember the restaurant.”

Richard’s smile disappeared.

“What restaurant?”

“The Meridian.”

“I haven’t heard that name in years.”

“Samuel Ortega remembers you.”

Richard leaned back.

“Old men remember many things incorrectly.”

Claire placed the photograph on his desk.

“You were there.”

“I don’t see myself.”

“You arrived later.”

“Prove it.”

Claire studied him.

“You’re not very nervous.”

“I have nothing to be nervous about.”

“My father was poisoned.”

That did it.

Only slightly.

But Claire saw it.

Richard’s left hand tightened.

“You should be careful throwing accusations around.”

“I didn’t accuse you.”

Richard realized his mistake.

Claire smiled.

“You just assumed I did.”

He stood.

“This meeting is over.”

Claire walked toward the door.

Richard spoke behind her.

“Your father wasn’t the man you think he was.”

Claire stopped.

“What does that mean?”

“He was preparing to betray Charles.”

“How?”

Richard smiled.

“You’ll figure it out.”

Claire left.

Ten minutes later, Richard called Evelyn.

“She came here.”

“What did you tell her?”

“Nothing.”

“Did she mention the toxicology report?”

“Yes.”

Evelyn whispered a curse.

Richard’s voice hardened.

“You should never have kept that report.”

“I needed insurance.”

“Your insurance is going to put us in prison.”

Evelyn lowered her voice.

“Then handle Claire.”

Richard went silent.

“What exactly are you asking?”

“You know exactly what I’m asking.”

That night, Claire left her office at 11:20.

The parking garage was almost empty.

She heard footsteps.

Claire turned.

Nobody.

She continued.

A black SUV accelerated around the corner.

Straight toward her.

Claire jumped behind a concrete pillar.

The SUV slammed into her parked car.

Metal screamed.

The driver reversed.

Claire saw his face for half a second.

Then the SUV disappeared up the ramp.

Claire called Maya.

While she waited, she noticed something beneath her damaged car.

A small envelope.

Someone had taped it there before the attack.

Claire opened it.

Inside was a key.

And a handwritten note.

Your father knew they would come for him.

Union Station.

Locker 314.

Claire stared at the handwriting.

May you like

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