Chapter 2 - The Photograph Someone Was Willing to Kill For
The first thing I noticed when we reached Maya's building was the broken lobby camera.
The second was the silence.
It was the kind of silence that made a person instinctively slow down.
Maya squeezed Lily's hand.
“Stay behind me.”
Lily whispered, “I'm not scared.”
“I know.”
I moved closer.
“Where's security?”
“I am security.”
That stopped me.
“You work here?”
“Overnight security supervisor.”
“You said downtown office complex.”
“I was trying to keep the conversation short.”
I looked at the elevator.
“Then why are we still standing here?”
She gave me a puzzled expression.
“You're not afraid?”
“I am.”
“Really?”
“I'm just good at pretending.”
The elevator doors opened.
We stepped inside.
On the seventh floor, Maya unlocked a narrow office.
The door frame showed signs of forced entry.
The drawers had been opened.
Files were scattered everywhere.
Lily stood in the hallway.
“Mama?”
Maya crouched.
“Go downstairs to the lobby.”
“No.”
“Lily.”
“No.”
I stepped in.
“She's right.”
Maya looked at me.
I nodded toward the emergency stairs.
“Neither of you should stay here.”
She hesitated.
Then she noticed something on the floor.
A photograph.
She knelt.
Her hand trembled.
“What is it?”
She turned it over.
It showed a man standing beside a dark-haired little boy.
The man was young.
The boy looked about eleven.
I recognized neither.
Maya looked at the photograph like it had become poisonous.
“You said they came for a photograph.”
“This is it.”
“Who are they?”
She stared at the man.
“My father.”
I studied the image again.
“Who is the boy?”
She didn't answer.
Then the hallway light flickered.
Maya grabbed Lily.
“Move.”
We ran.
Down the stairs.
Out through the loading dock.
Cold air hit my face.
Maya didn't stop until we reached the alley.
“What are you not telling me?” I asked.
“A lot.”
“Try me.”
She looked at me.
“My husband died seven years ago.”
I knew something was coming.
“I didn't know you were married.”
“I’m not anymore.”
“I'm sorry.”
“He disappeared first.”
“Disappeared?”
“Yes.”
Lily stood behind her mother.
“He left before I was born.”
I looked at the child.
Maya's face tightened.
“Lily wasn't supposed to exist.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means the people searching for that photograph believe my husband had a second identity.”
I stared at her.
“What was his name?”
She took a breath.
“Daniel Cross.”
Something about the name felt familiar.
Not personally.
Professionally.
I pulled out my phone and searched our internal public database.
Daniel Cross had once worked for a company acquired by Mercer Dynamics.
I looked at Maya.
“Your husband worked in technology.”
“Yes.”
“For a cybersecurity firm?”
Her eyes widened.
“How do you know?”
“Because I bought the company.”
Silence.
Her expression changed.
“You bought Meridian Shield?”
“Seven years ago.”
Maya stepped away from me.
“What else are you hiding?”
“I'm the founder of Mercer Dynamics.”
She stared.
“So the man who told me he worked in technology owns Mercer Dynamics.”
“Yes.”
“You lied.”
“I simplified.”
“You lied.”
I couldn't argue.
“Why didn't you tell me?”
“Because you didn't ask my last name.”
“That's convenient.”
“Very.”
Lily looked between us.
“Are you two fighting?”
Maya crouched.
“No.”
“You look like you're fighting.”
She looked at me.
“I think we're discussing.”
Lily thought about it.
“Adults call it fighting when they don't want to say the truth.”
I almost smiled.
Maya groaned.
“She's seven.”
“And terrifyingly perceptive.”
My phone rang.
This time I answered.
“Ethan, where are you?”
My CFO, Daniel Harper, sounded panicked.
“At home?”
“You are not home.”
“How do you know?”
“Because I just got a report that someone accessed one of the restricted Mercer Dynamics servers.”
I looked at Maya.
“What server?”
“The old Meridian Shield archive.”
My pulse changed.
“Who accessed it?”
“We're tracing it.”
“Lock the network.”
“I already did.”
“Not enough.”
“Ethan—”
“Find every file linked to Daniel Cross.”
Silence.
Then Daniel said,
“Why?”
“Because I think someone is looking for the same thing we are.”
I ended the call.
Maya watched me.
“What does your company have to do with my husband?”
“I don't know yet.”
“You bought his company.”
“Seven years ago.”
“The exact year he disappeared.”
“Yes.”
She took a breath.
“Maybe you knew him.”
“I don't.”
“How can you be sure?”
“Because I read the acquisition files.”
“You didn't meet him?”
“No.”
She looked down.
“Then why would someone search your servers?”
“I don't know.”
A police car passed at the end of the alley.
Maya whispered,
“We need somewhere safe.”
I nodded.
“Come with me.”
“To your mansion?”
“No.”
She smiled bitterly.
“Good.”
“I have an apartment.”
“Where?”
“Not downtown.”
“Who else knows about it?”
“Nobody.”
She studied me.
“Okay.”
We drove north.
Lily fell asleep in the back seat.
The city lights blurred across the windows.
Maya sat quietly beside me.
After twenty minutes, she said,
“Why did you come with us?”
“I told you.”
“Because Lily invited you.”
“That was part of it.”
“What was the other part?”
I kept my eyes on the road.
“I don't know.”
She looked at me.
I didn't look back.
“I think I wanted to make sure you got home safely.”
“That doesn't explain why you care.”
“No.”
She turned toward the window.
“My husband used to say that.”
“What?”
“That caring was dangerous.”
I glanced at her.
“He sounds intelligent.”
“He was.”
“Were you in love?”
She hesitated.
“Yes.”
“Still?”
“I don't know.”
That answer stayed with me.
At the apartment, Lily woke.
Maya carried her inside.
I followed.
It was modest.
Warm.
A little chaotic.
There were drawings on the refrigerator.
A stack of library books on the floor.
A chipped blue mug.
And one framed photograph.
Maya and Lily on a beach.
No husband.
No father.
Just them.
I understood instantly.
They had built a life without anyone else's help.
Lily pointed toward a room.
“You can sleep there.”
I blinked.
“I'm sleeping here?”
“You look tired.”
Maya smiled.
“You're not sleeping in my house.”
Lily crossed her arms.
“He helped us.”
Maya sighed.
“He can take the couch.”
I sat down.
“Deal.”
Three hours later, I woke to voices.
Maya was whispering on the phone.
“No, I don't have it.”
A man's voice came through the speaker, too faint for me to hear.
“I told you seven years ago.”
Pause.
“No.”
Pause.
“I won't give Lily to you.”
I sat up.
Maya turned.
Her face went pale when she saw me.
She ended the call.
“Who was that?”
“No one.”
“Maya.”
She closed her eyes.
“That was Daniel.”
I stood.
“Your dead husband?”
“He isn't dead.”
The room seemed to shrink.
“You knew?”
“I found out last year.”
“Where is he?”
“I don't know.”
“Then how did he call you?”
“From a blocked number.”
“Why would he say he wanted Lily?”
“Because he isn't Daniel anymore.”
I stared.
“What does that mean?”
Maya sat down.
“He disappeared because people were hunting him. They believed he stole something.”
“What?”
“The Bellweather file.”
I frowned.
“What is the Bellweather file?”
She looked at me.
“Proof that someone inside the city government had been selling private biometric data.”
My stomach tightened.
“That has nothing to do with my company.”
“It does now.”
“How?”
“Because Mercer Dynamics bought Meridian Shield.”
“What was in the file?”
She shook her head.
“I don't know.”
“Then who does?”
She looked toward the sleeping child.
“Lily's father.”
A soft sound came from the hallway.
Lily stood there.
“You're talking about Dad.”
Maya's face changed.
“Go back to bed.”
“I remember him.”
“Lily—”
“He had a scar here.”
She pointed above her eyebrow.
My breath caught.
The photograph.
The boy.
The man.
I thought of another face.
Leonard Mercer.
My late father's head of internal security.
He had a scar in exactly the same place.
But Leonard had died eight years ago.
I looked at Maya.
“I need to ask you something.”
“What?”
“Did Daniel ever know my father?”
She stared at me.
“Yes.”
“How?”
“Daniel worked for him.”
My blood ran cold.
Because my father had died believing the Bellweather scandal was buried forever.
Maybe it wasn't buried.
Maybe it had simply been waiting.
Waiting for someone to open the wrong file.
May you like
Waiting for someone to invite a lonely stranger to dinner.
Waiting for a seven-year-old girl to point at an empty chair and change four lives in a single night.
