Chapter 4 - THE EMPTY CHAIR
At one in the morning, Arthur called Clara for the sixth time.
Her company phone rang on a kitchen counter across the city.
He threw his own phone onto the desk.
“Send someone to her apartment.”
Julian stood near the fireplace, immaculate as always.
“She’ll be back.”
Arthur looked up.
“You spoke to her?”
“No. But she’s upset. Give her the night.”
Across the room, Gabe Russo shifted his weight.
Arthur noticed.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
“Say it.”
Gabe had guarded Arthur for twelve years. He had survived broken ribs, gunfire, and one winter trapped in a mountain cabin with him.
Still, he hesitated.
“You went too far.”
Julian smiled slightly.
“Our job isn’t to referee hurt feelings.”
Arthur ignored him.
“Check the apartment, Gabe.”
Twenty minutes later, Gabe called.
“She’s gone.”
“What does that mean?”
“Clothes missing. Phone here. Jewelry untouched.”
“Find her.”
There was a pause.
“Is that a request to make sure she’s alive,” Gabe asked, “or an order to bring her back?”
Arthur’s jaw tightened.
“Find her.”
After he hung up, Julian placed a folder on the desk.
“There may be another problem.”
Inside were transfer records bearing Clara’s authorization.
Hundreds of thousands of dollars moved between unfamiliar accounts.
Arthur stared at the signatures.
“She stole from me?”
“I wanted to verify it before saying anything.”
“You had time to verify it.”
Julian met his eyes.
“She has access to everything. We need to secure the situation.”
Arthur opened the delivery file Clara had left.
Every page was labeled. Every contact listed. Every problem marked with a proposed solution.
At the bottom of the first page, she had written:
Pier Nineteen demolition hold requested. Employee safety review incomplete.
Arthur looked back at Julian.
“Why are we demolishing Nineteen tomorrow?”
“Old structure. Insurance issue.”
“Then delay it.”
Julian’s expression barely changed.
“The crew’s already booked.”
“Unbook them.”
Across the city, Naomi pulled into an underground garage after losing the SUV through hospital traffic.
Clara’s phone rang.
Arthur.
She answered.
For several seconds, he said nothing.
Then, “Where are you?”
“Somewhere you don’t own.”
“Clara—”
“Did you know Daniel Hughes?”
His silence changed.
Not confusion.
Recognition.
May you like
Clara gripped the phone.
“Tell me why you were on the pier the night my brother died.”
