Chapter 2 - My Quiet Secretary Had Been Investigating My Family for Two Years
By 4:05 a.m., the house was awake.
Security locked every entrance.
No vehicle left the property.
Every employee's phone was collected.
I moved Khloe into the library while Paulie searched the security logs.
She looked terrified.
But she didn't ask to leave.
That interested me.
Most people would have taken the first opportunity to escape.
Khloe sat in a chair opposite mine with her hands wrapped around a mug of coffee.
“You can still walk out,” I told her.
“No.”
“You're free to.”
She shook her head.
“If I leave now, I'll never know what really happened.”
“To your father?”
“To my whole family.”
I leaned back.
“Tell me everything.”
She stared at the coffee.
“My father worked at Costa Logistics from the year it opened.”
“I remember him.”
“You remember him?”
“Yes.”
“He was kind?”
I nodded.
“He was one of the few men my father trusted.”
Khloe's expression softened.
“That's what my mother said.”
“What happened?”
“Eleven years ago, Dad discovered discrepancies in shipping manifests.”
“Where?”
“Baltimore.”
My jaw tightened.
“We had a customs audit that year.”
“You had more than that.”
She pulled a folded paper from her purse.
“These were copied from his notes.”
I took it.
Container numbers.
Dates.
Payment codes.
And one phrase repeated three times.
RED LEDGER.
I looked up.
“Where did you get this?”
“My father's old desk.”
“You had access?”
“My mother kept his things.”
“What else?”
“A key.”
She placed it on the table.
Old brass.
Stamped with 37.
I recognized it.
“Where did this come from?”
“She said Dad gave it to her.”
“When?”
“Before he disappeared.”
I stood and walked to the wall.
“What exactly did your father tell your mother?”
Khloe looked down.
“He said if anything happened to him, she should never trust Daniel Costa.”
The name landed again.
I hated how easily it fit.
“Why didn't she come to me?”
“She did.”
I turned.
“What?”
“She tried.”
“When?”
“After Dad disappeared.”
I stared.
“Someone stopped her.”
“Who?”
“She never told me.”
“Why?”
“She was afraid.”
“What happened to her?”
“She died three years later.”
I went still.
“How?”
“Car accident.”
“Suspicious?”
Khloe nodded.
“The brakes were cut.”
For the first time, I understood the scale of what I was dealing with.
“What did Daniel have to gain?”
“Control.”
“Of what?”
“The port expansion.”
I shook my head.
“That was eleven years ago.”
“The expansion was supposed to belong to my father.”
I remembered.
Of course I remembered.
My father had planned to expand from domestic freight into international shipping.
Thomas Evans had designed the logistics system.
Then Thomas disappeared.
My father was killed two days later.
Daniel became indispensable.
Within eighteen months, the company had doubled.
I had always assumed it was because Daniel was brilliant.
Now I wasn't so sure.
“What did you find?”
Khloe pulled out another folder.
She had copies of internal invoices.
Payment trails.
And photographs.
“You stole these.”
“I copied them.”
“Without permission.”
“Yes.”
I almost smiled.
“You're braver than you look.”
“I've been scared for two years.”
“Why stay?”
“Because I was getting closer.”
“To what?”
“The red ledger.”
I walked toward her.
“What is in it?”
“My father believed it contained proof that someone inside the company had been moving money through offshore accounts.”
“Whose money?”
“I don't know.”
“That isn't all.”
“No.”
“What else?”
She hesitated.
“He believed the ledger could prove my father's murder wasn't random.”
I looked at her.
“My father was murdered too.”
Khloe nodded.
“He was killed because he found the same thing.”
Silence.
I sat.
“Why did you think I was involved?”
“I didn't.”
“Then why were you afraid to tell me?”
“Because I didn't know what kind of man you were.”
“And now?”
She gave a weak smile.
“I still don't.”
I laughed once.
“You're sleeping in my bed while investigating my family. You have terrible judgment.”
“I thought it was the study.”
“That excuse is getting worse.”
For the first time, she smiled.
Then the door opened.
Paulie entered.
“We found a hidden camera.”
I stood.
“Where?”
“My bedroom,” I said.
He froze.
“Where?”
“Behind the mirror.”
Paulie looked at Khloe.
She lowered her gaze.
“You knew about it,” I said.
She nodded.
“I saw the wiring six months ago.”
“You knew someone was watching me?”
“Yes.”
“And didn't tell me?”
“I didn't know who installed it.”
Paulie looked furious.
“Boss, nobody gets near the private wing without authorization.”
“Apparently someone did.”
He checked the footage.
The camera had been active for six months.
We watched.
Meetings.
Phone calls.
Me sleeping.
Me speaking with Daniel.
The footage had been archived remotely.
Someone had access.
“Where does it transmit?” I asked.
Paulie traced the signal.
“Downtown.”
“Address?”
He read it.
A warehouse owned by a company connected to Daniel.
I looked at Khloe.
She was pale.
“You already knew.”
“Yes.”
“How?”
“I followed the signal.”
“Alone?”
“Yes.”
“That's insane.”
“I needed proof.”
She opened her purse.
Inside was a tiny flash drive.
“I copied the archives.”
I took it.
“You've been collecting evidence.”
“Yes.”
“For how long?”
“Two years.”
I plugged it into the computer.
Thousands of files.
Payments.
Audio.
Photos.
And one video.
Date:
The night my father died.
I opened it.
A grainy security camera showed the harbor.
My father's vehicle arrived.
Thomas Evans was there.
Then Daniel.
The three men stood beside container 37.
I watched my father's lips move.
No audio.
Thomas pointed toward the container.
Daniel stepped closer.
Then my father shoved him.
The video ended.
I stared.
“What happened next?”
Khloe whispered.
“My father disappeared.”
Two hours later, Thomas's body was found.
Except it wasn't.
I looked at her.
“What do you mean?”
“There was never an identified body.”
My blood ran cold.
“Then whose funeral did you attend?”
“My mother was given a coffin.”
“Closed?”
“Yes.”
I looked at the screen.
A terrible possibility formed.
“Your father may have survived.”
Khloe's eyes widened.
“That's what I thought.”
“Where is he now?”
“I don't know.”
I stared at the final file.
Another video loaded.
This one was recent.
A man entered a warehouse.
The image was blurry.
He had Thomas's height.
Thomas's walk.
Thomas's scar.
I stopped breathing.
Khloe whispered:
“That's him.”
The man turned toward the camera.
His face became visible for only two seconds.
Then the video ended.
We both stared at the frozen frame.
Paulie broke the silence.
“Boss.”
“What?”
“That's Thomas Evans.”
I looked at Khloe.
She was crying.
“My father is alive.”
Then my phone rang.
Daniel.
I answered.
“Vincent.”
His voice was calm.
“What?”
“I heard you've been asking questions.”
My hand tightened around the phone.
“Yes.”
A pause.
“You shouldn't.”
“Why?”
“Because some truths are expensive.”
I looked at Khloe.
Daniel continued.
“I'd hate to see another Evans woman disappear.”
The line went dead.
Khloe whispered:
“He knows I'm here.”
May you like
I stood.
“Then we find your father before he does.”
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