Chapter 9 - THE LEDGER
Noah was moved into the most secure section of the Ashford residence.
Three guards outside.
Locked hall.
Cameras.
Harper still checked on him every fifteen minutes.
She found him building a tower from old books.
“Am I in trouble?”
“No.”
“Then why does everyone have guns?”
Harper sat beside him.
“Because some people are trying to scare us.”
“Derek?”
“Not just Derek.”
Noah looked at her.
“You’re scared.”
Harper forced a smile.
“A little.”
He reached into his backpack.
Their mother’s old music box sat inside.
Harper stared.
“Where did you get that?”
“Mom gave it to me.”
“When?”
“Before she went to the hospital.”
Harper picked it up.
Small wooden box.
Broken ballerina.
Kuna words carved underneath.
Their mother had kept it for years.
Harper turned the key.
The lullaby began.
Then stopped halfway.
Noah frowned.
“It always does that.”
Harper shook it.
Something moved inside.
Her pulse quickened.
She found a tiny screw beneath the velvet lining.
Gabriel entered as Harper pried open the false bottom.
Inside was a flash drive.
Nobody spoke.
Gabriel whispered, “That’s it.”
Harper connected it to an offline laptop.
Encrypted folders filled the screen.
Gabriel called one of his cyber specialists.
Two hours later, the first files opened.
Harper stared.
Police officers.
District attorneys.
Real estate developers.
City inspectors.
Bankers.
Dozens of names.
Payments.
Photos.
Audio files.
Gabriel scrolled.
Then stopped.
Arthur Ashford.
His father.
Beneath the name were hundreds of transactions.
Harper watched Gabriel’s face.
“Are you okay?”
“No.”
He opened another file.
His eyes hardened.
“What?”
Gabriel turned the laptop.
One line had been highlighted by Michael Queen.
ASHFORD, ARTHUR — ORDERED EXECUTION OF ELENA ASHFORD.
Gabriel stopped breathing.
Harper understood.
“Your mother.”
His chair scraped backward.
“No.”
Mrs. Morrison covered her mouth.
Gabriel read the line again.
“Her death was called an accident.”
Nobody answered.
Gabriel walked toward the window.
Harper followed.
“Gabriel.”
“My father killed her.”
His voice sounded empty.
“He arranged the crash.”
Harper touched his arm.
Gabriel looked down at her hand.
For once, the most feared man in Boston looked like a lost son.
“I spent fifteen years blaming myself.”
“You were a child.”
“I knew he hurt her.”
“You couldn’t stop him.”
“I should have.”
Harper’s eyes filled.
“No.”
Gabriel looked at her.
“I spent three years telling myself the same thing about Derek.”
She swallowed.
“If I had been smarter. Stronger. Quieter. Louder. Anything.”
Gabriel said nothing.
“But people like them make us carry the blame for what they choose to do.”
Her voice shook.
“Your father killed your mother.”
She squeezed his arm.
“You didn’t.”
Gabriel closed his eyes.
For a moment, they simply stood together.
Then the laptop beeped.
A new decryption finished.
Marcus opened the file.
His face changed.
“Gabriel.”
They approached.
“This ledger doesn’t only expose Arthur.”
Marcus pointed.
“It exposes people still working for us.”
Names appeared.
Leo Brennan.
Vincent Russo.
And—
Marcus Vale.
Gabriel stared at his closest friend’s name.
Harper slowly looked at Marcus.
Marcus lifted both hands.
“I can explain.”
May you like
Gabriel’s expression went dead cold.
“You’d better.”
