Chapter 4
Daniel Brooks stood in the kitchen doorway, a cardboard tube of blueprints under one arm, a paper coffee cup in the other.
He was forty-two years old, handsome in that rugged, unshaven way that made clients trust him instantly. He wore his usual uniform: tailored jeans, expensive boots, a navy sports coat with the firm’s logo stitched discreetly on the cuff.
He looked like success.
Like loyalty.
Like the last man on earth who would order two women murdered to cover up his crimes.
“Hey, brother,” Daniel said, grinning. He walked in and set the coffee down on the island. “Figured you’d be buried in Harbor Point change orders. Thought I’d swing by, save us both a meeting. Where’s the little man?”
“At a friend’s,” Michael said. He kept his body positioned between Daniel and the living room. “He’ll be back later.”
“Cool. Cool.” Daniel leaned against the counter, sipping his coffee. His eyes scanned the room. “Nice paint job, by the way. Blue, huh? Ethan’s choice?”
“Yep.”
Michael’s brain was screaming.
Move him. Get him out of here. Before he walks into the living room. Before Sarah makes a sound.
“So what’s in the drawings?” Michael asked, stepping forward and grabbing the tube. “Anything I need to sign today?”
“Nah, just revisions on the penthouse mechanicals. Nothing urgent.” Daniel’s gaze drifted again. Toward the living room. Toward the couch. “Hey, you got company? I thought I heard voices when I came in.”
Michael’s heart hammered against his ribs.
“Just the TV,” he said. “Left it on for background noise. You know how quiet this house gets without Ethan running around.”
Daniel nodded. But he didn’t move.
He just stood there.
Watching.
Michael had known Daniel since college. They’d been roommates for two years. Best men at each other’s weddings. He knew every tell. Every micro-expression.
And right now, Daniel was suspicious.
“Hey,” Daniel said, pushing off the counter. “Let me grab a water from the fridge. Then I’ll get out of your hair.”
He walked toward the refrigerator.
Which meant he had to pass the living room doorway.
Michael’s hand curled into a fist at his side.
If Daniel saw Sarah...
If he realized...
Three steps.
Two.
One.
Daniel paused in the doorway.
Michael held his breath.
From behind the couch, nothing.
No movement. No sound.
Sarah was holding perfectly still.
Daniel looked into the room. Frowned.
“Hey, you left the TV on but it’s just a black screen,” he said. “Wasting electricity, man. Your utility bill’s gonna be brutal.”
He walked on. Opened the fridge. Pulled out a bottle of water.
Michael exhaled so quietly he barely heard it himself.
“Force of habit,” he said.
Daniel twisted the cap off. Drank. Then he leaned against the fridge, his expression shifting. More serious.
“Mike, we need to talk.”
“About what?”
“Harbor Point. Voss is breathing down my neck. He wants the final sign-offs by Friday. Says if we miss the deadline, the city pulls the tax abatement. That’s forty million dollars out the window.”
Michael stared at him.
Forty million dollars.
On top of the millions he’d already stolen.
“Tell Voss we’ll be done by Thursday,” Michael said.
Daniel raised an eyebrow.
“Really? You’ve been dragging your feet on this for three months. Suddenly you’re in a hurry?”
“Life’s too short to fight city hall,” Michael said. He forced a laugh. It sounded hollow even to him. “Let’s just get it built. Get paid. Move on to the next thing.”
Daniel studied him for a long moment.
Something in his eyes changed.
A coldness.
The same coldness Michael had seen in the parking garage video.
“Right,” Daniel said slowly. “Move on. That’s a good way to put it. Hey—speaking of moving on... you hear anything from Sarah’s family lately? The Collins side? I got a random call from some investigator last week. Asking about the fire. Three years later. Weird, right?”
The floor dropped out from under Michael.
“Investigator?”
“Private guy. Said he was looking into some old insurance paperwork. Wanted to know if I was sure the body was Sarah. I told him of course I was sure. Dental records. The necklace. Everything matched. Told him it was pretty disgusting, digging around in a grieving family’s business like that.”
Daniel took another sip of water. His eyes never left Michael’s face.
“You didn’t get a call from him?”
“No,” Michael said.
“Hmm. Interesting.” Daniel crumpled the empty water bottle in his hand and tossed it into the recycling bin. “Well, anyway. I’ll let you get back to... whatever you were doing. I’ll email you the revised timeline tonight. We’ll crunch through it tomorrow at the office.”
He walked toward the door.
Paused.
Turned back.
“Oh, and Mike? Tell Ethan I’ll swing by this weekend with that new telescope lens I promised him. The one that can see Saturn’s rings. Kid’s gonna lose his mind.”
“Sure,” Michael said. “I’ll tell him.”
Daniel left.
The front door clicked shut.
Michael counted to ten.
Then he ran to the living room.
Sarah was still on the floor behind the couch, pressed flat against the baseboards, tears streaming silently down her face.
Michael dropped to his knees beside her.
“He knows,” she whispered. “He knows something’s wrong. I could hear it in his voice.”
“Maybe,” Michael said. “But he doesn’t have proof. Not yet.”
He helped her sit up. Wiped the tears from her cheeks with his sleeve.
“That investigator he mentioned,” Sarah said. “Who do you think sent him?”
“Voss, probably. Or Daniel himself. Testing the waters. Seeing if anyone’s asking questions.” Michael stood and held out a hand. “Come on. You need to get off the floor. We need to make a plan. Now.”
Sarah took his hand. Let him pull her up.
“What kind of plan?”
“First—we get you a new identity. Not legally. Not yet. But we dye your hair again. Cut it. Get you glasses. Different clothes. If Daniel or Voss has people watching this house, I don’t want them seeing you through a window and guessing.”
Sarah touched her hair self-consciously.
“Okay.”
“Second—we copy that flash drive three times. One goes in the safe deposit box at the bank downtown. One goes to my mother’s house, hidden somewhere Ethan would find but a burglar wouldn’t. And one stays with us, on us, at all times.”
“And third?”
Michael looked at his laptop. At the damning video sitting on the hard drive.
“Third—I’m going to find us a reporter. Someone hungry. Someone who hates Voss. Someone who’ll print the whole story before Daniel and Voss have time to cover it up. Once it’s in the paper, they can’t make us disappear. Too many people will be watching.”
Sarah nodded. But her hands were shaking again.
“Michael... what if it doesn’t work? What if they come after Ethan?”
Michael knelt in front of her. Took both her hands in his. Looked deep into those eyes he’d missed so desperately for three years.
“Then we fight,” he said. “Together. Like we should have been doing this whole time. I let you down once, Sarah. I let you run. I let you suffer alone. That’s never happening again. Not to you. Not to our son.”
Sarah threw her arms around his neck. Held on like he was the only solid thing in a world that kept trying to break apart.
Michael held her back.
For the first time since that rainy night three years ago, he didn’t feel like a widower.
He felt like a husband.
And a father.
And a man with something worth fighting for.
But as he held his wife, his eyes drifted to the front window.
And he saw it.
A black SUV.
Parked across the street.
Engine running.
Tinted windows.
It hadn’t been there when Daniel arrived.
Michael’s blood ran cold.
Daniel hadn’t been suspicious.
May you like
He’d been certain.
And he’d left someone behind to watch.
