Chapter 11 - The Brother Declan Buried
Declan did not speak for several minutes.
I had seen him furious.
I had seen him threatening.
I had seen him stare at a man with enough coldness to make the room feel smaller.
But I had never seen him afraid of an answer.
His mother had access to floor thirty-four.
Catherine Morrow.
Former attorney.
Former chairwoman of Morrow Holdings.
Wife of Patrick Morrow for thirty-four years.
Mother of Daniel and Declan.
The woman who had left Chicago after Patrick's death and rarely returned.
“She's in Zurich,” Declan said.
Adrian shook his head.
“She arrived in Chicago yesterday.”
Declan's eyes snapped toward him.
“How do you know?”
“Airport records.”
“Why?”
“We monitor people connected to the original network.”
“You monitor my mother?”
“Yes.”
Declan laughed once.
No humor.
“Everyone apparently monitors everyone.”
Daniel leaned against the wall.
“Welcome to the family.”
That started an argument seventeen years overdue.
“You don't get to joke.”
Daniel's expression changed.
“Declan—”
“You vanished.”
“I had to.”
“You let me bury you.”
I looked at Daniel.
He looked away.
“You had a funeral?” I asked.
Declan's voice was hard.
“Closed coffin.”
Daniel swallowed.
“Patrick arranged it.”
“You could have contacted me.”
“No.”
“One message.”
“No.”
“I was twenty-five.”
“I know.”
“I thought my brother was dead.”
“I know.”
“No, you don't.”
The room became painfully quiet.
Declan stepped closer.
“You didn't see me standing over an empty coffin.”
Daniel's face finally broke.
“I watched from across the cemetery.”
That stopped everyone.
Declan stared.
“What?”
“I was there.”
“Why?”
“Because I needed to know you believed it.”
Declan looked as though he might hit him.
He didn't.
That restraint told me more than violence would have.
Daniel continued.
“Atlas had people watching. If you didn't grieve, they'd know.”
“You used me.”
“Yes.”
“Patrick used me.”
“Yes.”
“Victoria lied to me.”
“Yes.”
“Mother?”
Daniel didn't answer.
That was the worst answer.
Declan turned away.
I wanted to touch his arm.
I didn't.
Sometimes comfort becomes another demand.
Instead, I asked Adrian the question we needed.
“Why did Catherine come back?”
“We don't know.”
“Can we access floor thirty-four remotely?”
Declan turned back.
“Partially.”
“Cameras?”
“Marcus controls security.”
“Then no.”
“Building management?”
“Yes.”
“Independent?”
“Separate vendor.”
Finally.
I opened my laptop.
Broken databases were annoying.
Building-management software was insultingly easy by comparison, especially when Declan had legitimate administrator credentials.
Within minutes we had door logs.
Catherine Morrow's credential had been used at 12:19 a.m.
After I arrived at the penthouse.
“She was there last night,” I said.
Declan's face tightened.
“Where?”
“Floor thirty-four.”
“Duration?”
“Forty-one minutes.”
“Camera?”
I accessed hallway footage.
At 12:18, elevator doors opened.
A woman stepped out.
Tall.
Silver-blonde hair.
Dark coat.
Catherine.
Declan stared at the screen.
She walked directly toward the secure records room.
No hesitation.
No searching.
She knew exactly where she was going.
At 12:42, Marcus Vale appeared.
They spoke.
No audio.
Then Marcus handed her something.
Small.
Black.
My encrypted phone.
“Marcus has it,” I whispered.
“No,” Adrian said.
“Look.”
At 12:47, Catherine entered the records room with the device.
At 1:00, she emerged without it.
Marcus remained outside.
They left separately.
“Still inside,” I said.
“Maybe,” Declan replied.
“Unless she moved it.”
“Records room is shielded.”
Adrian leaned toward the screen.
“That explains why the signal stopped.”
The hidden partition had sent a location ping when the phone connected briefly.
Then Catherine took it into a shielded space.
“What is she doing?” Declan whispered.
Daniel answered.
“Maybe trying to destroy it.”
“Then why not destroy it immediately?”
“Because she needs something.”
I understood.
“Access.”
Everyone looked at me.
“The hidden partition is encrypted.”
Adrian nodded.
“Biometric plus passphrase.”
“Whose biometric?”
He looked at Declan.
“Patrick's.”
“Patrick is dead.”
“Yes.”
“Then nobody can open it.”
Adrian hesitated.
“Not exactly.”
I groaned.
“There is always another secret with you people.”
“Patrick configured legacy access.”
“To whom?”
“Direct bloodline.”
Declan stared.
“Meaning?”
“His children may be able to authenticate.”
Daniel.
Declan.
Claire, if alive.
Potentially descendants.
“That means Catherine can't open it,” I said.
“No.”
“Marcus can't.”
“No.”
“They need one of the Morrows.”
Victoria spoke quietly.
“That's why they came to the river house.”
Not to kill them.
To take one.
Declan looked at Daniel.
Then Adrian.
Three possible keys.
My phone buzzed.
Message from an unrecognized number.
COME TO MORROW TOWER ALONE.
Then another.
BRING DECLAN.
I laughed bitterly.
“Alone with Declan. Excellent wording.”
A photograph arrived.
Catherine Morrow inside the records room.
Holding the phone.
She was staring directly into the camera.
Beneath:
YOUR FATHER LEFT SOMETHING INSIDE, GEMMA.
Another message.
ONLY YOU CAN FIND IT.
Declan reached for the phone.
“No.”
I moved it away.
“You are not going.”
“She asked for both of us.”
“Which is why you're not going.”
“That's not how logic works.”
“It is tonight.”
“Declan.”
“No.”
I looked at Daniel.
“Does Catherine know about my father?”
“Yes.”
“How much?”
“Probably everything.”
“Then I need answers.”
“You need to stay alive,” Declan said.
“I've been doing both all night.”
His jaw tightened.
“Gemma.”
I met his eyes.
“My father died because of this.”
Silence.
“Eighteen years of my life were built on a lie. I'm going.”
He stared at me.
Then he exhaled.
“Fine.”
Everyone looked surprised.
Including me.
“That was easy.”
“I didn't say we're following her instructions.”
“What are we doing?”
Declan turned toward Daniel.
“For once, I'm going to use the brother I spent seventeen years thinking was dead.”
Daniel raised an eyebrow.
“For what?”
Declan's expression changed.
“Being dead.”
May you like
And for the first time that night, I saw the beginning of a plan.
---
