Chapter 5 - MY BROTHER’S REVENGE
Evan had always hated our father.
I simply learned to imitate him.
That was the difference between us.
When Charles Foster died, he left me control of the company and Evan enough money to never work again.
Evan called it a punishment disguised as inheritance.
Six years ago, after another fight about the company, he disappeared to Europe.
Or so I thought.
“Where is Maya?” I asked.
“Safe.”
“Put her on.”
“No.”
“Evan.”
“You always did think saying someone’s name in that voice made you powerful.”
Victor stood across the conference table, listening.
His expression had become careful.
He was afraid too.
That interested me.
“What do you want?”
“What should have been mine.”
“The company?”
Evan laughed.
“You still think this is about money.”
“Then explain it.”
“Ask Victor.”
I looked at him.
Victor said nothing.
Evan continued.
“Ask him what Dad discovered three weeks before he died.”
My father had suffered a heart attack at sixty-three.
Sudden.
Clean.
No mystery.
Until that moment.
“What did he discover?”
Victor stood.
“This conversation is over.”
I moved between him and the door.
“No.”
Evan laughed through the phone.
“Finally asking questions, Danny.”
I hated that childhood nickname.
“Where is Maya?”
“You’ll get an address.”
“If you hurt her—”
“I’m not the one who hurts mothers.”
The line disconnected.
Victor reached for the door.
Frank blocked him.
“Sit.”
Victor looked at me.
“You cannot detain me.”
“You can leave when Maya comes home.”
His eyes hardened.
“You’re making a serious mistake.”
“Add it to the list.”
Ryan entered carrying an old archive box.
“I found something.”
Inside were my father’s handwritten notes.
One file was marked CFS REVIEW.
Three weeks before his death, Charles had documented suspicious transfers involving Victor.
Amounts.
Warehouses.
Patient records.
And one name repeated several times.
Evan Foster.
I stared at Ryan.
“What was Evan doing?”
“He was working in European development then.”
I remembered.
Before his breakdown with the family.
Before his departure.
The notes showed Evan had discovered a network selling restricted pediatric biologics through private clinics overseas.
He reported it to our father.
My father started investigating.
Then he died.
Victor spoke calmly.
“Charles had cardiovascular disease.”
“You knew about his investigation.”
“Yes.”
“Did you kill him?”
“No.”
For once, I believed him.
Then Ryan found another page.
My father had scheduled a private meeting with Evan on the morning he died.
The meeting location was a warehouse in Brooklyn.
Pier Forty-Seven.
The same place where the current shipment vanished.
My phone buzzed with an address.
Red Hook.
Twenty minutes.
Come alone.
I showed Frank.
“No.”
“Yes.”
“It’s obviously a trap.”
“Probably.”
“Then don’t walk into it.”
I looked at Victor.
“You’re coming.”
His face changed.
“I am not.”
“You are if you want me to believe you’re not behind Maya’s disappearance.”
Ryan stepped forward.
“I’m going too.”
“No.”
“You don’t trust me anyway.”
“Correct.”
“Then keep me where you can see me.”
That was reasonable.
I hated reasonable people.
We drove to Red Hook with security vehicles staying several blocks behind.
The address was an old refrigerated warehouse.
Inside, I found Maya sitting in a chair.
Not tied.
Not injured.
Angry.
The moment she saw me, she stood.
“You came.”
I looked her over.
“Are you hurt?”
“No.”
“Did Evan touch you?”
“Only to take my phone.”
“Where is he?”
“Behind you.”
I turned.
My brother stepped from the shadows.
He looked older.
Thinner.
But the same anger lived in his face.
“Hello, Danny.”
I crossed the room and punched him.
Maya gasped.
Evan hit the concrete floor.
He laughed.
“I probably deserved that.”
“You kidnapped her.”
“I removed her from a hospital watched by Victor’s people.”
Victor entered behind me.
Evan’s expression changed completely.
“There he is.”
Victor froze.
“Evan.”
Maya moved beside me.
“You know each other.”
“Oh, we know each other,” Evan said.
He wiped blood from his lip.
“Victor spent six years trying to find me.”
“Why?”
Evan opened a metal locker.
Inside were files.
Hundreds.
Photographs.
Invoices.
Audio recordings.
“My father didn’t die because of a bad heart,” he said.
I stared at him.
“You said Victor didn’t kill him.”
“I didn’t say Dad wasn’t killed.”
Victor’s face went pale.
Evan placed a medical report in front of me.
Charles Foster had been receiving medication for arrhythmia.
The week before his death, his prescription was replaced with counterfeit tablets.
Manufactured through a pharmacy connected to the same network.
Northbridge.
“Dad discovered the theft ring,” Evan said. “Someone made sure he didn’t live long enough to shut it down.”
I looked at Victor.
He slowly shook his head.
“I did not order that.”
“Who did?” I asked.
Before anyone answered, a metallic sound came from the loading bay.
Doors locking.
Then another.
The warehouse lights went out.
Emergency lights came on.
Victor whispered one name.
“Sam.”
I turned.
“You said Sam was helping you.”
Ryan looked confused.
“He was.”
A voice came through the warehouse speakers.
Sam Miller.
“Sorry, gentlemen.”
Maya stepped closer to me.
Sam continued.
“But Victor was right about one thing.”
A refrigeration alarm began sounding.
The temperature display dropped rapidly.
38°F.
34°F.
30°F.
“This business was always worth too much money to walk away from.”
May you like
Heavy shutters sealed the exits.
And somewhere above us, industrial cooling fans roared to life.
