Chapter 7 - Marcus Had Been Playing Both Sides
Marcus disappeared from the hospital before police could question him.
That told me almost everything.
By afternoon, federal investigators had frozen Nexora's accounts.
Robert remained in custody.
Jonathan was under guard.
Eleanor agreed to cooperate.
Marcus Hale was nowhere to be found.
Rebecca spread the financial records across my conference table.
“Brightshore Consulting belongs to Marcus through two holding companies.”
“How much?”
“Six-point-four million.”
“Stolen?”
“Possibly.”
Daniel shook his head.
“Why expose Jonathan if Marcus was involved?”
“Because he was protecting himself,” I said.
Marcus had not confessed because he suddenly developed a conscience.
He had changed sides because Robert was losing.
We searched Marcus’s Vanguard visitor logs.
He had entered our building eleven times over the previous six months.
Only four visits were connected to Nexora's funding negotiations.
“What was he doing the other seven times?”
Adrian answered an hour later.
“Meeting someone.”
“Who?”
He put a photograph on my desk.
My executive assistant.
Natalie Brooks.
I stared at it.
Natalie had worked for me for six years.
She knew my calendar.
My travel.
My meetings.
My security routines.
And occasionally, when I trusted her enough, pieces of my personal life.
I called her office.
Empty.
Her phone was disconnected.
Her apartment had been cleared.
Rebecca whispered, “There's your leak.”
My father had spent years wondering who betrayed Project Haven.
Now history was repeating itself.
Only this time, I wasn't going to wait twenty years for answers.
Adrian tracked Natalie to LaGuardia Airport.
She had booked a flight to Montreal.
Federal agents intercepted her before boarding.
She agreed to talk within three hours.
Marcus had approached her eighteen months earlier.
He paid her for Vanguard information.
At first, harmless things.
Meeting schedules.
Investment interests.
Names of analysts.
Then he wanted information about me.
“Did you tell him where I lived?”
Natalie cried.
“Yes.”
“Did you give him building access?”
“No.”
“Did you tell him about the key?”
She hesitated.
That was enough.
“How did you know about it?”
“You once asked me to arrange insurance photographs of your personal valuables.”
I remembered.
Two years earlier.
“Marcus saw the inventory.”
I closed my eyes.
Everything connected.
Robert knew the key existed because Marcus knew.
Marcus knew because Natalie betrayed me.
Jonathan married me because Robert wanted Haven.
And I had walked smiling into the center of their trap.
Natalie gave us Marcus’s emergency address.
A cabin in Pennsylvania.
Federal agents found it empty.
But they found something else.
Thomas Hale.
Alive.
Seventy-one years old.
Hiding under the name Thomas Harris.
Marcus's supposedly dead father had been living there for eight years.
When I met him, he looked at me and started crying.
“You have Charles's eyes.”
I sat across from him.
“Why did you disappear?”
“To protect Marcus.”
“From Robert?”
“Yes.”
“Did Marcus know you were alive?”
Thomas's silence answered.
“For how long?”
“Ten years.”
I stood.
“So Marcus lied about that too.”
“He had reasons.”
“Everyone seems to.”
Thomas flinched.
I softened my voice slightly.
“Where is your son?”
“I don't know.”
“Thomas.”
“He's trying to fix what he did.”
“That sentence has gotten people killed.”
Thomas looked at me.
“Marcus didn't steal the six million.”
“Then explain it.”
“He moved it.”
“To where?”
“Accounts Robert couldn't reach.”
I laughed bitterly.
“That's exactly what you said Victor did.”
“Because Marcus was trying to do what Victor did.”
I didn't believe him.
Not yet.
Then Thomas handed me a flash drive.
“This is why Robert wanted Nexora.”
Inside were encrypted files.
Marcus had built a system into Nexora's Sentinel platform that quietly traced Robert's financial network.
He had spent years pretending to help Robert while mapping every transaction.
Marcus had been playing both sides.
“Why not go to law enforcement?”
Thomas looked ashamed.
“Because Marcus wanted revenge.”
That made sense.
Justice requires trust.
Revenge requires only patience.
And Marcus had waited twenty years.
Then Thomas said something worse.
“Robert isn't the person Marcus wants most.”
“Who is?”
“The man who ordered Victor Lang's murder.”
“I thought Robert did.”
“He arranged it.”
“What's the difference?”
“Robert answered to someone.”
The room went silent.
Thomas opened another file.
A photograph appeared.
A man leaving a courthouse.
Silver hair.
Expensive suit.
I recognized him.
Everyone in finance did.
Senator William Crawford.
Chairman of the Senate Banking Committee.
A man who had built his career preaching financial integrity.
Thomas whispered:
“Crawford financed Robert's network.”
My stomach dropped.
“And Marcus?”
“He intends to expose him.”
“When?”
Thomas checked the clock.
“Tonight.”
“Where?”
“At Crawford's campaign fundraiser.”
I stood immediately.
Thomas grabbed my wrist.
“Charlotte, wait.”
“What?”
“Marcus isn't going there to expose him publicly.”
I stared.
May you like
Thomas's face was filled with terror.
“He's going there to kill him.”
