Chapter 12 - THE WRONG HOSTAGE
Arthur caught Julian’s arm before he could drag Clara closer.
Julian pulled a gun from beneath his jacket.
Everything happened in a rush.
Pike stepped backward.
Clara twisted free.
Arthur shoved the table sideways.
The shot struck the glass roof.
People screamed in the ballroom.
“Federal agents! Drop the weapon!”
Julian seized Pike by the collar and pulled him between himself and the doorway.
The commissioner’s face went gray.
“Julian, what are you doing?”
“Making myself useful.”
Clara crouched behind the overturned table.
Arthur stood too close to Julian’s gun.
“Move back,” she whispered.
He didn’t.
Julian dragged Pike toward a service door.
“You really think they’ll let you walk, Arthur? Your name is on everything.”
“I know.”
“They’ll take your houses. Your money.”
“I know.”
“Then stop helping them.”
Arthur’s voice was steady.
“You should have left Ruth alone.”
Julian laughed once.
“You still think this is about the woman?”
He shoved Pike into Arthur.
Both men stumbled.
Julian disappeared through the service door.
Agents rushed past Clara.
Ward reached her a moment later.
“Are you hit?”
“No.”
“Stay here.”
“Ruth?”
“The waterfront team is inside.”
A radio crackled.
Clara heard shouting, then a voice confirming one woman alive.
Her legs finally gave out.
She sat on the conservatory floor with shattered glass glittering around her shoes.
Arthur knelt several feet away.
He didn’t touch her.
Neither spoke until Ward returned.
“Ruth is conscious. Ambulance is on scene.”
Clara covered her mouth.
Arthur bowed his head.
Then Ward’s expression shifted.
“Julian got into a vehicle at the service entrance. We’re tracking it.”
“Where’s he going?” Arthur asked.
“South.”
Clara looked up.
“The warehouse.”
Ward frowned.
“Which warehouse?”
“The one on Daniel’s transfer order.”
Arthur stood.
“There’s an old office under the loading platform. Victor kept records there.”
Ward spoke into her radio.
Clara rose too quickly and caught the table for balance.
For seven years, she had imagined finding Daniel alive somewhere.
Sick. Hiding. Unable to get home.
Now she heard her own voice ask a different question.
“Is that where he put my brother?”
No one answered.
May you like
Arthur looked at her.
And that was answer enough.
