Chapter 4 - The Secret Behind Her Lie
Beatrice had imagined seeing her brother again so many times that the reality seemed impossible.
In some versions, Evan appeared at her apartment door.
In others, she found him in another city with another life.
Sometimes he apologized.
Sometimes she screamed.
Sometimes they simply hugged until fourteen missing years disappeared.
Never had she imagined him standing inside Thomas Rourke’s hangar and warning her against Desmond Hayes.
“Evan?”
Her brother’s eyes filled with something she couldn’t identify.
Regret, perhaps.
Or fear.
“Bee.”
Nobody had called her that since she was nineteen.
Her throat tightened.
She took one step forward.
Desmond caught her arm.
Not hard.
Enough.
Evan noticed.
“See?”
Beatrice turned.
“Let go.”
Desmond immediately did.
Evan looked toward Rourke.
“I told you she’d come.”
Beatrice stared at him.
“You work for him?”
Evan did not answer.
The silence was answer enough.
“No.”
“Beatrice—”
“No.”
She shook her head.
“I spent fourteen years wondering whether you were dead.”
“I know.”
“Mom died wondering.”
Pain crossed his face.
“I know.”
“She asked for you.”
His voice cracked.
“I know.”
“Then explain it.”
Rourke interrupted.
“This reunion is touching, but we have business.”
Desmond’s gaze shifted to him.
“You’ve made your point.”
“Have I?”
“You kept him alive because he was useful.”
Rourke smiled.
“So cynical.”
“So accurate.”
Evan stepped forward.
“I wasn’t kept anywhere.”
Beatrice turned.
“What?”
“I chose to disappear.”
The words hurt more than she expected.
“You chose?”
“Yes.”
“You let us believe you were dead?”
“I had no choice.”
“That is the opposite of what you just said.”
Evan flinched.
Desmond remained silent now.
This belonged to her.
Evan took a breath.
“Fourteen years ago, I worked for a freight company tied to one of Desmond’s early businesses.”
Desmond frowned.
“Which company?”
“Mercer Logistics.”
Recognition crossed his face.
Mercer Logistics had been one of his first acquisitions.
Evan continued.
“I found duplicate manifests. Same trucks. Same routes. Different cargo declarations.”
“Smuggling?” Beatrice asked.
“No. Money.”
Desmond’s eyes narrowed.
“Explain.”
“Someone was using transportation invoices to move millions through shell vendors.”
“Rourke?”
“Not originally.”
Rourke’s smile faded slightly.
Desmond noticed.
“So who?”
Evan looked at him.
“Someone who was with you before Hayes Capital existed.”
The statement narrowed the possibilities dramatically.
Very few people had known Desmond that long.
Marco.
Daniel Keller.
And one other.
Desmond’s oldest adviser.
Victor Shaw.
Victor had retired three years earlier.
At least officially.
Beatrice saw the thought forming.
“Victor?”
Desmond said nothing.
Rourke laughed.
“So close.”
Desmond turned toward him.
“What does that mean?”
“It means your entire empire was built with a rotten beam beneath the foundation.”
Evan stepped between them.
“The original scheme wasn’t Rourke’s.”
“Then whose?”
“I never learned the real name.”
“What did you learn?”
“That somebody inside Desmond’s operation had been creating hidden accounts since the beginning.”
Beatrice felt suddenly cold.
“What does that have to do with you disappearing?”
“I copied the records.”
“And?”
“The next day someone broke into our apartment.”
Beatrice remembered.
A shattered kitchen window.
Their mother crying.
Evan claiming it had been random.
“You told us it was burglary.”
“I lied.”
“Apparently that runs in the family.”
He winced.
“I was trying to protect you.”
She laughed without humor.
“I’ve heard that excuse recently.”
Desmond looked at her.
She ignored him.
Evan continued.
“Rourke contacted me first. Said he could keep you and Mom safe.”
“In exchange for?”
“The records.”
“And you gave them to him.”
“I gave him part.”
Rourke’s expression hardened.
There it was.
The first true crack.
Desmond saw it.
“So Evan kept insurance.”
Evan nodded.
“The ledger.”
Beatrice whispered the word.
“That’s what Rourke has been searching for.”
“Yes.”
“Where is it?”
“I don’t know anymore.”
Rourke’s voice became sharp.
“Careful.”
Evan looked toward him.
“You promised she wouldn’t be involved.”
“And she promised to bring me the ledger.”
“She doesn’t have it.”
“Then perhaps you should help her remember.”
Desmond moved.
He placed himself slightly in front of Beatrice.
Rourke smiled.
“There it is again.”
“What?”
“That instinct.”
Desmond’s voice stayed flat.
“Say what you want.”
“You protect her before you protect yourself.”
Beatrice looked at Desmond.
He did not turn.
Rourke continued.
“Dangerous weakness for a man in your position.”
Desmond answered quietly.
“Only if you survive long enough to use it.”
The temperature in the hangar seemed to drop.
Rourke’s guards shifted.
So did Marco’s men.
Beatrice stepped between the two groups.
“Enough.”
Everyone looked at her.
She faced Evan.
“You said you don’t know where the ledger is anymore.”
“Yes.”
“Where was it?”
Evan hesitated.
“Dad’s house.”
Their childhood home had been sold eleven years ago.
Beatrice stared.
“Where?”
“There was a loose board beneath the stairs.”
“We sold that house.”
“I know.”
“To whom?”
“I don’t know.”
Desmond looked at Marco.
“Find out.”
Marco was already typing.
Rourke laughed softly.
“You think it’s still there?”
Evan looked at him.
“If you had found it, you wouldn’t need us.”
Rourke’s amusement vanished.
Desmond smiled.
For the first time all evening, Thomas Rourke looked genuinely angry.
That mattered.
Rourke stepped back.
“This conversation is finished.”
“No,” Beatrice said.
He looked at her.
“You don’t decide that.”
“I want my brother.”
Evan’s face changed.
Rourke’s guards moved.
Desmond’s voice became quiet.
“She leaves with him.”
Rourke laughed.
“Absolutely not.”
“Then nobody leaves.”
For several seconds, neither side moved.
Marco’s hand rested beneath his coat.
Rourke’s guards watched him.
Beatrice could hear her own heartbeat.
Then Evan suddenly spoke.
“I’ll go.”
Rourke turned.
“What?”
“You said I was here voluntarily.”
“You are.”
“Then I’m leaving voluntarily.”
Rourke’s stare became lethal.
Evan walked toward Beatrice.
One guard blocked him.
Desmond glanced at Marco.
Marco stepped forward.
Rourke lifted one hand.
His guard moved aside.
Interesting.
He was unwilling to start a confrontation here.
Not yet.
Evan reached his sister.
For a moment, neither knew what to do.
Then Beatrice slapped him.
The sound echoed through the hangar.
Everyone froze.
Evan touched his cheek.
“I deserved that.”
“Yes.”
Then she hugged him.
Hard.
Her shoulders shook.
Evan closed his eyes and held her.
Desmond looked away.
Not because he didn’t want to see.
Because the moment felt too private.
When Beatrice finally stepped back, her face was wet.
She wiped it quickly.
“We’re going.”
Rourke called after them.
“Miss Gallagher.”
She stopped.
“You’re making a mistake.”
Beatrice turned.
“No.”
Her voice steadied.
“My mistake was believing anything you said.”
Rourke smiled.
“You still believe your brother.”
She looked at Evan.
Rourke continued.
“You might ask what he has been doing for me for fourteen years.”
Evan’s expression changed.
Beatrice saw it.
“What does he mean?”
“Later.”
“No. Now.”
Evan looked away.
Rourke answered for him.
“Your brother didn’t simply hide from me, Beatrice.”
He paused.
“He helped build my organization.”
Silence.
“He designed the accounting systems you’ve spent eight months chasing.”
Beatrice stared at Evan.
“Tell me he’s lying.”
Evan said nothing.
“Tell me.”
“I can’t.”
Something inside her broke.
She took a step back.
Desmond reached toward her.
She moved away from everyone.
Rourke’s final words followed them from the hangar.
“Everyone lies eventually, Beatrice.”
She stopped.
Then turned her head.
“No.”
Her eyes found Desmond.
“Some people just take longer to admit why.”
They left.
But by the time their vehicles reached Chicago, Marco had discovered who owned the Gallagher family’s old house.
And the name on the deed created an entirely new problem.
The property had been purchased eleven years earlier by a holding company.
That company belonged to someone Desmond trusted completely.
Daniel Keller.
One of the seven people who had known about every compromised operation.
One of the men with access to Desmond’s private floor.
May you like
And one of Desmond’s oldest friends.
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