Chapter 7 - THE COP IN THE HOUSE
Clara saw him.
Nobody else did.
Officer Mills.
He had been standing near the study door all night.
Now he turned away too quickly.
Clara whispered, “Marcus.”
“What?”
She nodded toward Mills.
“Don’t look yet.”
Marcus understood immediately.
“What did you see?”
“He was on his phone when Julian knew about the ledger.”
Marcus’s jaw tightened.
They waited.
Mills walked toward the rear hall.
Clara followed at a distance.
Marcus followed her.
At the service entrance, Mills pulled out a second phone.
“I told you,” he whispered. “They opened the drive.”
Clara stepped around the corner.
“Who are you talking to?”
Mills spun.
Marcus hit him before he could reach his gun.
One punch.
Mills crashed into the wall.
Clara kicked the phone away.
Other officers rushed in.
Within minutes, Mills was in handcuffs.
His second phone contained messages to Julian going back months.
The detective in charge looked sick.
“We’ll handle this.”
Marcus shook his head.
“No. I’m going to that hotel.”
“You’ll do exactly what Julian expects.”
“My son is there.”
“We don’t know that.”
Clara spoke.
“He asked for me.”
Marcus turned.
“You’re not going.”
“He’ll kill Leo if I don’t.”
“No.”
“Marcus.”
“No.”
She stepped close.
“For twenty-seven years, I lived without this family. Tonight I found out I’m part of it. I don’t know how I feel about that yet.”
She swallowed.
“But Leo stood behind me because he thought I was safe.”
Marcus’s eyes softened.
“I’m not abandoning him now.”
At 5:40 a.m., the city was still gray.
The old Blackwood Hotel had been closed for renovation for eleven months.
Forty-two floors of empty rooms.
Perfect for a trap.
Police set up three blocks away.
Marcus and Clara entered alone.
The lobby smelled like dust and wet concrete.
A speaker crackled.
Julian’s voice echoed through the darkness.
“Welcome home, little sister.”
Clara looked up.
“Go to hell.”
Julian laughed.
“I like you already.”
“Where’s Leo?”
“Thirty-second floor.”
Marcus headed for the elevators.
Dead.
They took the stairs.
By floor twelve, Clara’s legs burned.
By twenty, Marcus was bleeding through a bandage from the fight at Harbor Road.
By thirty-two, both were exhausted.
The hallway lights suddenly came on.
Leo sat in a chair at the far end.
His hands were tied.
“Dad!”
Marcus ran toward him.
Clara grabbed his arm.
“Wait.”
A thin wire crossed the hallway at ankle height.
Marcus stopped inches before it.
A shotgun was rigged to the wall.
Leo’s eyes widened.
“I tried to tell you!”
Marcus carefully stepped over the wire.
Then another.
Then another.
They reached Leo.
Marcus cut the restraints.
Leo threw his arms around him.
“I knew you’d come.”
Marcus held him tight.
Then Clara noticed something.
“Where’s Richard?”
Leo pointed toward a door.
“Upstairs.”
A speaker crackled again.
Julian’s voice returned.
“One family member rescued.”
Pause.
“One to go.”
The hallway lights turned red.
“And Clara?”
She stared at the speaker.
“Yes?”
“You might want to ask Leo what Vanessa gave him before I arrived.”
Clara looked at the boy.
Leo’s face changed.
He reached into his sock.
And pulled out a folded photograph.
Clara took it.
Her mother was in the picture.
Standing beside Richard Blackwood.
And holding a newborn baby.
On the back, one sentence had been written:
May you like
CLARA WAS NOT THE ONLY CHILD.
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