Chapter 7 - The Price of Knowing
Andrew refused to believe Margaret completely.
That was the worst part.
He wanted a villain clean enough to hate.
Renee had lied.
Margaret had lied.
Charles was dead.
Gabriel was missing.
Julian was his brother.
Every direction contained betrayal.
They returned home in silence.
Sophie was with Renee’s friend Claire for the afternoon.
The empty house felt different now.
Not elegant.
Observed.
Andrew opened the financial files from the microSD card.
Northline Civic Partners appeared repeatedly.
So did seven LLCs.
He searched state corporate records.
Several owned parcels purchased by Bennett Development at inflated prices. Others had received consulting payments despite no visible employees.
Renee watched.
“What do you see?”
“A mechanism.”
“For?”
“Moving money legally enough to avoid immediate attention.”
“Your father?”
“Julian.”
Andrew rubbed his face.
“He’s been pushing the board to sell three company properties to Northline.”
“His own company?”
“Indirectly. The ownership isn’t obvious.”
“Would the board know?”
“Not if he never disclosed beneficial ownership.”
“That’s fraud.”
“If it’s true.”
Renee flinched at the qualifier.
“You still think I invented this.”
“I think everyone in my life has given me reasons to verify everything.”
She accepted that.
At four, Claire brought Sophie home.
Sophie ran to Andrew carrying a drawing.
“Daddy, I made our house.”
He looked.
There were four figures in front of a brown rectangle.
Andrew.
Renee.
Sophie.
And a tall man colored gray.
Andrew crouched.
“Who’s that?”
“The man.”
Renee froze behind him.
“What man?”
“The door man.”
Andrew kept his voice calm.
“Did you see him?”
Sophie nodded.
Renee whispered, “You said you didn’t.”
“I didn’t see him behind the door.”
“When did you see him?”
“At school.”
Andrew’s heart jumped.
“What?”
“He waved.”
“When?”
“Before we moved.”
Renee sat beside Sophie.
“What did he look like?”
Sophie shrugged.
“Old.”
“Hair?”
“White and brown.”
“Did he talk to you?”
“He asked if Mommy still sings the rain song.”
Renee stopped breathing.
Andrew looked at her.
“What rain song?”
Renee began crying.
Not quietly.
Sophie looked frightened.
Renee pulled her close.
“My dad used to sing it.”
Andrew felt cold.
“Peter?”
She nodded.
“No one knows that song. My mother hated it after he died. I haven’t sung it since I was a child.”
Sophie touched her mother’s cheek.
“The man knew it.”
Gabriel.
It had to be.
That meant Gabriel had found Sophie before they moved.
Andrew’s phone buzzed.
A text from an unknown number.
ASK JULIAN ABOUT WESTBRIDGE, 2017.
A second message arrived.
AND DO NOT TRUST YOUR MOTHER’S VERSION EITHER.
Renee stared.
“Gabriel?”
“Maybe.”
Andrew typed:
Where are you?
No response.
He searched Westbridge and Bennett Development.
A six-year-old news article appeared.
Westbridge Gardens.
A low-income housing redevelopment project backed by city funds.
Bennett Development had withdrawn after structural problems were found. Another company finished the project.
Andrew remembered the scandal vaguely.
Three subcontractors had gone bankrupt.
A whistleblower had disappeared from public view.
He searched deeper.
One lawsuit named Northline Civic Partners.
Another named a consultant.
Elias Mercer.
Renee leaned closer.
“Who is he?”
“I don’t know.”
They opened a scanned deposition.
Mercer alleged Bennett executives had inflated renovation invoices by millions.
The case was settled and sealed.
Andrew found a photograph from an old trade publication.
Elias Mercer stood at a construction site beside Julian.
And beside Gabriel Shaw.
Renee pointed to another person in the background.
A younger woman.
Andrew zoomed in.
Margaret Bennett.
Andrew whispered, “She knew Julian was doing this.”
Renee’s expression changed.
“No.”
“What?”
“Look at the date.”
Westbridge, 2017.
The same week Andrew and Renee had gotten married.
At the bottom of the image was a handwritten caption preserved from the magazine archive.
Meeting after Mercer threat.
Andrew stared.
Their wedding week.
While Margaret welcomed Renee into the family, she had been meeting with Gabriel about another whistleblower.
May you like
Then a third text arrived.
MERCER IS THE REASON THE ROOM HAS TWO DOORS.
