Chapter 7 - The Woman Beside the Wreck
Sabine Lockidge arrived at the Rallo house the following morning as though she had nothing to fear.
Dark suit.
Pearl earrings.
Leather folder.
Fifteen years of trust worn like armor.
Evander had not invited her.
That was deliberate.
He wanted to see whether she would come.
She did.
Winifred escorted her into the library.
Tamson watched from the security room upstairs.
Martin Ellis had argued against the plan.
Evander had argued back.
Tamson disliked both arguments.
Finally Martin permitted a controlled conversation as long as Evander did not directly accuse Sabine of homicide.
The goal was simple.
Let her talk.
Evander sat by the library fireplace.
No visible recording equipment.
Sabine entered.
“Your staff said you wanted privacy.”
“I do.”
She sat opposite.
“You’ve been avoiding me.”
“I’ve been busy.”
“With Tamson Hollis.”
Evander looked at her.
Sabine smiled without warmth.
“She has become remarkably expensive for a maid.”
“She isn’t a maid.”
“What is she?”
The question lingered.
Evander did not answer.
Sabine studied him.
Then opened her folder.
“I have concerns about your recent decisions.”
“My decisions usually concern you only when I pay you to review them.”
“I have represented this family for fifteen years.”
“Yes.”
“I buried investigations before they reached your door.”
“Yes.”
“I negotiated with prosecutors, unions, competitors, widows, traitors, police officers, and men who would have happily put you in the ground.”
Evander leaned back.
“And apparently insurance companies.”
Sabine became still.
“You’re angry about Abel Hollis.”
“I’m curious.”
“He drove drunk.”
“No.”
One word.
Sabine’s eyes narrowed.
Evander continued.
“His toxicology was clean.”
She did not react enough.
That was its own reaction.
“Where did you find that?”
“Does it matter?”
“It matters if evidence has been manipulated.”
Evander almost smiled.
“Yes. It does.”
Sabine closed the folder.
“Evander, listen carefully. Tamson Hollis arrived under a false identity. She searched your private office. She gained access to your mother, whose cognitive condition makes her extraordinarily suggestible. Now suddenly four-year-old memories are becoming evidence.”
“She did not fake Abel’s toxicology.”
“No.”
“She did not put your car near the crash.”
For the first time, Sabine’s expression changed.
Tiny.
But visible.
Upstairs, Tamson leaned toward the monitor.
Martin noticed too.
Evander continued.
“Twenty-eight miles.”
Sabine said nothing.
“Your firm billed twenty-eight miles that night.”
“I went many places for this family.”
“Where did you go?”
“I don’t remember.”
“You remember everything.”
“Not mileage from four years ago.”
Evander placed one hand on the chair arm.
“My mother remembers you.”
Sabine’s voice became softer.
“Your mother is sick.”
The words were crueler than shouting.
Evander’s face changed.
“She was sick because someone put her in a car with damaged brakes.”
Sabine stood.
“You said you wanted privacy. I did not realize you wanted theater.”
Evander remained seated.
“Sit down.”
Sabine stared.
Then slowly sat.
Upstairs, Tamson’s pulse raced.
Evander said, “Did you know Anora found the transfers?”
Sabine did not blink.
“What transfers?”
“Five million.”
Silence.
“There have been hundreds of transfers over fifteen years.”
“From St. Anne’s.”
This time Sabine’s hand moved toward her folder.
Evander saw it.
“So you remember.”
“I remember cleaning up your father’s accounting disasters.”
“My father was dead when those transfers occurred.”
Sabine stared.
Evander continued.
“My mother copied them.”
“You have no idea what you are looking at.”
“She did.”
“Anora was beginning to deteriorate before the accident.”
That was the wrong thing to say.
Evander leaned forward.
“No.”
Sabine realized.
Too late.
“My mother had no cognitive diagnosis before the crash.”
“I meant emotionally.”
“You said deteriorate.”
Sabine’s face hardened.
For the first time, the lawyer disappeared.
Something colder appeared.
“You want gratitude from me?”
Evander stared.
She continued.
“I kept this family alive after your father died. You were thirty-one and arrogant enough to think silence was leadership. Lucian wanted half your operations. Three captains considered leaving. Federal agents were circling your construction companies. Your mother was auditing charity receipts while everything burned.”
Evander’s voice was quiet.
“So you stole from us.”
“I took what I was owed.”
Tamson looked at Martin.
He raised one finger.
Keep listening.
Sabine continued.
“You inherited everything. I built half of what you inherited.”
“So you moved five million.”
“I moved money.”
“To companies you controlled.”
“I protected myself.”
“And when my mother discovered it?”
Sabine stopped.
Evander did not move.
“Did you tell Peter to cut the brakes?”
Sabine’s face changed.
Upstairs, Martin cursed.
Too direct.
Sabine stood immediately.
“Conversation over.”
Evander remained seated.
“You came to the crash.”
She walked toward the door.
“Your car was there.”
Sabine stopped.
Evander continued.
“Lucian was there.”
Her shoulders stiffened.
“My mother heard you.”
Sabine turned.
For the first time, she looked frightened.
Not guilty.
Frightened.
“Your mother heard nothing.”
The words came too fast.
Evander’s eyes sharpened.
Sabine realized again.
Too late.
“She was unconscious,” Sabine said.
Evander stood.
“How do you know?”
Silence.
“You said you didn’t remember where you went.”
Sabine’s face emptied.
Evander took one step.
“How did you know my mother was unconscious at the scene?”
Sabine looked toward the windows.
Then toward the door.
Upstairs, Martin was already moving.
But Sabine did something unexpected.
She laughed.
Quietly.
“You always were slower than your father.”
Evander froze.
Sabine opened the door.
Two detectives waited outside.
Her face changed.
Martin came down the hallway.
“Ms. Lockidge, we’d like to speak with you.”
Sabine looked back at Evander.
“This family eats everyone eventually.”
Then she surrendered her phone.
She was not arrested.
Not yet.
But investigators seized her office records that afternoon.
Lucian Voss disappeared before sunset.
His apartment was empty.
His usual driver was gone.
Three burner phones stopped transmitting.
Evander blamed himself.
“I pushed too fast.”
Martin disagreed.
“Sabine would have warned him anyway.”
Tamson sat beside Anora that evening.
The older woman had a surprisingly good day.
She recognized Evander twice.
She called Tamson by her real name once.
Not Ruth.
Tamson.
It made Tamson cry more than almost anything else.
Anora touched her cheek.
“Sad?”
“A little.”
“Why?”
“My mother.”
Anora nodded slowly.
“Ruth.”
“Yes.”
“Brave.”
Tamson swallowed.
“Yes.”
Anora looked toward the doorway where Evander sat on the floor.
“Vandy brave?”
Tamson looked at him.
Evander raised one eyebrow.
She almost smiled.
“Sometimes.”
Anora appeared satisfied.
Later, Tamson and Evander stood on the terrace overlooking the Hudson.
“You know she likes you,” Tamson said.
“My mother?”
“Yes.”
“She gave birth to me. There may be contractual obligations.”
Tamson laughed.
The sound surprised both of them.
Evander looked at her.
For a moment, the case disappeared.
No Sabine.
No Lucian.
No crash.
Only cold air and city lights.
Tamson became aware of how close they stood.
She stepped back first.
Evander noticed.
He did not follow.
That restraint mattered.
“I should go.”
“I’ll have someone drive you.”
“Fine.”
Evander looked surprised.
“You’re giving up the anti-driver campaign?”
“I’m tired.”
“Ah.”
Tamson moved toward the door.
Her phone rang.
Ma Reed.
Tamson answered.
“Ma?”
No response.
“Ma?”
Then a male voice.
“Miss Hollis.”
Tamson went cold.
Evander saw her face.
The voice continued.
“You have something Mr. Voss wants.”
Tamson put the call on speaker.
Evander’s expression transformed.
“What?”
Tamson asked.
“The blue case.”
“It’s with prosecutors.”
Pause.
“That was unfortunate.”
Tamson’s heart slammed.
“Where is my aunt?”
Ma’s voice suddenly came through.
“Tammie, don’t—”
The line cut.
Tamson could not breathe.
Evander took the phone.
“Lucian.”
Silence.
Then Lucian’s voice.
“Evander.”
“What do you want?”
“Safe passage.”
“From whom?”
“Everyone.”
“You took an old woman to negotiate travel arrangements?”
Ma shouted faintly in the background, “Old?”
Despite terror, Tamson almost cried with relief.
Lucian continued.
“I want the copies Anora kept.”
“You know prosecutors have them.”
“I know you made copies before turning them over.”
Evander had.
“Bring them to Red Hook.”
“When?”
“Midnight.”
“You release Ma Reed first.”
Lucian laughed.
“You used to be better at this.”
Evander’s voice became terrifyingly calm.
“And you used to be smarter than taking someone Tamson loves.”
Lucian went silent.
Evander continued.
“You have until midnight.”
He ended the call.
Tamson grabbed him.
“What are you doing?”
“Getting your aunt.”
“You are not trading evidence.”
“No.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means Lucian believes I still solve problems the way he taught me.”
Tamson stared.
“How do you solve them now?”
Evander looked toward the dark river.
“Differently.”
At eleven forty-five, Evander entered the abandoned Red Hook warehouse alone.
At least, Lucian believed he was alone.
Tamson watched from a surveillance van with Martin and federal agents.
She hated every second.
Lucian stood under a hanging light.
Ma Reed sat in a chair.
Untied.
Irritated.
She looked at Evander.
“This man has no tea.”
Lucian rolled his eyes.
“She has complained for two hours.”
Evander almost smiled.
“You kidnapped the wrong aunt.”
“I’m beginning to understand that.”
Lucian held a gun.
Evander carried a flash drive.
“The copies?”
“Yes.”
Lucian extended his hand.
“Give it.”
“Release her.”
“Drive first.”
Evander held up the device.
“You want this because Peter Lockidge appears in the photographs.”
Lucian’s face tightened.
“You know more than you should.”
“Sabine ordered him to damage the brakes.”
Lucian stared.
In the van, Martin leaned closer.
Evander continued.
“But you were there.”
“I watched.”
“You threatened Kersey.”
“Yes.”
“You helped remove Abel’s toxicology report.”
Lucian laughed.
“Sabine handled the paper.”
“And you let a dead man carry the blame.”
Lucian’s mouth twisted.
“You really care now?”
Evander said nothing.
Lucian continued.
“You signed whatever she put in front of you. You took the restaurants. The docks. The unions. The envelopes. You liked being king as long as someone else cleaned the blood.”
Every word struck.
Tamson watched Evander absorb it.
Then he said something nobody expected.
“You’re right.”
Lucian blinked.
“I made it easy.”
Evander’s voice remained steady.
“That ends tonight.”
Lucian raised the gun.
Ma Reed sighed loudly.
Both men looked at her.
“You gentlemen are exhausting.”
Then she threw her handbag.
It struck Lucian’s wrist.
The gun fired into the ceiling.
Evander moved.
Agents entered.
Within seconds, Lucian was on the floor.
Ma stood behind Evander shouting, “Do not wrinkle my purse!”
Tamson ran inside after the scene was secure.
She reached Ma first.
Then she turned toward Evander.
He was breathing hard.
“You’re insane.”
“That assessment is becoming popular.”
Tamson slapped him.
The entire warehouse went silent.
Evander touched his cheek.
Tamson immediately kissed the same cheek.
Then froze.
So did he.
Ma Reed looked at Martin.
“I’m going to pretend I didn’t see that.”
Tamson stepped back, horrified.
“I was angry.”
Evander’s mouth curved.
“I noticed.”
“Don’t smile.”
“I’m trying.”
“You could have been killed.”
“So could your aunt.”
Ma called from behind them, “I was never worried.”
Everyone ignored her.
Tamson’s eyes filled.
Evander’s smile disappeared.
He lowered his voice.
“She’s safe.”
Tamson nodded.
Then she did something neither planned.
She leaned forward and rested her forehead against his chest.
Evander did not touch her immediately.
He waited.
Just as Tamson had taught him to wait with Anora.
Only when Tamson’s hands closed around the front of his jacket did Evander place one arm carefully around her.
May you like
Across the warehouse, Ma Reed watched.
And smiled.
