Chapter 14 - The Parking Garage TrapVictor's proposed negotiation began with an insult.
Through his attorney, he suggested that if I discontinued my claims against him personally, he could provide documents proving Adrian had controlled the cover-up.
He also proposed a substantial confidential payment.
The implication was obvious.
Take the money.
Blame Adrian.
Stop investigating Victor.
I refused.
Not because Adrian deserved protection.
Because I refused to let anyone purchase my version of the truth.
"Whatever Adrian did, I want it documented," I told Naomi. "And whatever Victor did, I want that documented too."
Naomi nodded.
"That's how we're proceeding."
Victor's attorney withdrew the proposal.
Then Nolan Price received another threat.
This time it arrived at his lawyer's office.
A printed photograph showed Nolan entering a grocery store.
On the back were six words.
Some mistakes are expensive to correct.
His attorney immediately contacted the police.
Nolan was frightened.
I couldn't blame him.
He had accepted money to remain silent, and now he was trying to expose the very people who'd paid him.
But for the first time, he refused to run.
He agreed to give a formal recorded statement with counsel present.
The appointment was scheduled at Naomi's office in Manhattan.
I wasn't required to attend.
Yet I wanted to see the man who'd helped destroy my life finally put the truth on record.
Mara advised me to arrive separately and avoid any direct interaction with unknown individuals.
I agreed.
The morning of the appointment, the city was wrapped in cold rain.
I parked in a monitored garage beneath the office building.
An independent security driver accompanied me from the vehicle.
As we approached the elevator, I noticed a man standing near the payment machines.
He wore a brown jacket and held a phone against his ear.
Something about him bothered me.
Perhaps the way he watched us without appearing to look directly.
Or perhaps I'd simply become suspicious of everyone.
We entered the elevator.
Halfway up, my phone vibrated.
A message from Naomi.
Do not come upstairs yet. Someone has attempted to interfere with the witness appointment. Return to your vehicle if it's safe, or remain with building security. Police have been called.
My stomach dropped.
The security driver read the message.
"We're going back to the lobby."
The elevator descended.
When the doors opened, two men were arguing near the entrance to the garage.
One of them was the man in the brown jacket.
The other wore a dark coat and seemed furious.
I heard a name.
"Nolan."
My heart hammered.
The security driver moved between me and the men.
"Stay close."
Then the man in the brown jacket spotted me.
His expression changed.
He reached into his pocket.
The driver reacted instantly.
"Back inside!"
I stumbled toward the elevator lobby.
A vehicle accelerated somewhere nearby.
Tires screamed against concrete.
Then someone shouted.
The man in the brown jacket ran.
Another vehicle blocked the exit lane.
For several terrifying seconds, the garage became a confusion of engines, footsteps, and echoing voices.
I crouched behind a concrete pillar with the driver shielding me.
"Is someone shooting?" I whispered.
"No shots," he said. "Stay down."
A car struck a metal barrier with a violent crash.
Glass shattered.
I heard a man cry out.
Then another voice shouted:
"Claire!"
Adrian.
I looked up.
He was running toward us from the stairwell with Daniel Reed close behind him.
"Adrian, don't!"
But he was already moving.
The vehicle that had struck the barrier lurched backward.
Adrian grabbed the security driver by the shoulder and helped pull me behind a concrete support.
The car swung toward the lane again.
Its bumper clipped a low metal guardrail, sending loose debris across the floor.
A jagged fragment struck Adrian's forearm.
He stumbled.
Blood darkened his sleeve.
"Adrian!"
"I'm all right."
He wasn't.
His arm was bleeding heavily.
The driver pulled us farther away from the lane.
Within moments, police officers entered the garage from the street entrance.
The driver of the damaged vehicle surrendered after officers ordered him out.
The man in the brown jacket had disappeared.
I stared at Adrian's arm.
"You're hurt."
"It's a cut."
"You're bleeding through your shirt."
He looked down as though noticing it for the first time.
Then he gave me a strained smile.
"I've had worse."
I wanted to scream at him.
Instead, I took the clean cloth Daniel handed me and pressed it against the wound while we waited for emergency medical personnel.
"Why were you even here?" I demanded.
Adrian grimaced.
"Carter told me the witness meeting had been disrupted. I was at a building nearby."
"You should have called the police."
"I did."
"And then?"
"I came because I knew you were scheduled to be here."
I pressed harder against the cloth.
He winced.
"Good," I said angrily. "Maybe the pain will remind you not to run toward moving cars."
To my surprise, he laughed.
Then his expression softened.
"Claire."
"What?"
"I'm glad you're safe."
My throat tightened.
I looked away.
The ambulance arrived minutes later.
Adrian needed stitches but had avoided serious injury.
The police interviewed everyone involved.
Investigators found that the damaged vehicle was registered to a contractor who had previously worked for a security company used by one of Victor's business associates.
It was a concerning connection, but not proof that Victor had ordered the incident.
The police were careful about that.
So was Naomi.
"We have to let the investigation establish what happened," she told me.
I agreed.
But I knew someone had tried to disrupt Nolan's testimony.
And innocent people had nearly been hurt.
That evening, I visited Adrian at the medical clinic with Mara's knowledge.
His arm was wrapped in white bandages.
He looked surprised when I entered.
"Claire."
I closed the door behind me.
"You're an idiot."
He smiled faintly.
"I've been called worse."
"Don't joke."
His smile disappeared.
I sat opposite him.
"For six years, you solved problems with money and orders. Today you ran into a parking garage and nearly got yourself killed."
"I know."
"Noah is getting to know you. He looks forward to seeing you. What exactly am I supposed to tell him if you die doing something reckless?"
Adrian went completely still.
I hadn't meant to say it that way.
But the words were out.
After a long silence, he whispered:
"He looks forward to seeing me?"
I stared at him.
"Of course he does."
Adrian's eyes filled.
"He does?"
I nodded.
"He asks about you."
He looked down at his bandaged arm.
For several seconds, he couldn't speak.
Then he said:
"I've spent my life believing that protecting people meant controlling everything around them."
I watched him.
"Today I realized I couldn't control anything."
"No," I said quietly. "You couldn't."
He looked up.
"I need to learn how to be a father without trying to be in charge of everyone."
I swallowed.
"That would be a good place to start."
For the first time in years, we sat together without fighting.
Not because the past had disappeared.
Because neither of us was pretending it had.
Before I left, Adrian asked one question.
"Can you tell Noah I'm looking forward to our next bridge?"
I nodded.
"I can do that."
Then my phone vibrated.
A message from Naomi.
Nolan completed his statement remotely. We now have enough evidence to identify the person who ordered the misleading publicity edit.
My breath caught.
I opened the next message.
May you like
It contained a name.
Vanessa Cole.
Related Stories
