Chapter 4 - “You Went Behind My Back”
The projectile struck the wall.
Adrian moved faster than Lena expected.
He shoved her behind the kitchen island and drew a compact pistol from beneath his jacket.
“Stay down.”
“You carry a gun?”
“Not the time.”
Outside, tires screamed.
Adrian reached the window.
Grant’s SUV tore away.
Lena stared at the shattered glass.
The object embedded in the wall wasn’t a bullet.
A dart.
Almost identical to the one removed from Atlas.
Adrian noticed it.
His face changed.
“You knew,” he said.
“What?”
“You knew something was wrong before he moved.”
Lena said nothing.
“Why?”
Her silence answered.
“Who called you?”
“Adrian—”
“Who?”
She stood.
“Elliot.”
His expression went cold.
Minutes later, they were inside Adrian’s secure penthouse above the Vale Meridian, one of his quieter off-Strip properties.
Sophie slept two floors below under Marisol’s care.
Atlas lay beside the elevator.
Adrian paced.
Lena stood near the windows.
“You called my brother behind my back?”
“I didn’t call him first.”
“That distinction matters to you?”
“He called me.”
“And you talked.”
“Yes.”
“You trusted him.”
“I listened.”
“Same mistake.”
Lena’s temper snapped.
“You know what your problem is?”
Adrian stopped.
“I suspect you’re about to tell me.”
“You think listening means surrendering.”
“He manipulated you.”
“Maybe.”
That surprised him.
Lena continued.
“Maybe he lied about everything. Maybe he didn’t. But Grant just fired a tracking dart through my window after Elliot warned me someone close to you was compromised.”
Adrian said nothing.
“You trusted Grant.”
“For eleven years.”
“And tonight he tried to mark me so somebody could follow me.”
Adrian looked away.
“That doesn’t make Elliot innocent.”
“No. It makes you wrong about Grant.”
His eyes returned to hers.
Dangerous.
Wounded.
“You have no idea what Elliot did after Daniel died.”
“Then tell me.”
“He emptied twenty-three million dollars from a family trust.”
“Or someone used his credentials.”
“He vanished.”
“Because he claims someone wanted him dead.”
“He abandoned Sophie.”
That stopped Lena.
Adrian’s voice cracked slightly.
“Daniel’s daughter had just lost her father. Elliot was her favorite uncle. He vanished without a call.”
Lena softened.
“That’s why you hate him.”
“I don’t hate him.”
“You absolutely hate him.”
Adrian looked toward the city.
“I hate that part of me still wants him to walk through the door and explain everything.”
There it was.
The wound beneath the anger.
Lena lowered her voice.
“He might.”
“He’s had two years.”
“Maybe he was afraid.”
“So was Sophie.”
Adrian turned.
For a second, Lena understood him completely.
He wasn’t only angry at Elliot for disappearing.
He was angry because Elliot had left Adrian alone to hold together a grieving child, a collapsing family, a corporation under investigation, and his own guilt.
Lena stepped closer.
“What if Daniel didn’t choose Atlas randomly?”
Adrian looked at her.
“What?”
“Elliot says Daniel trained him for search work.”
“He did.”
“What kind?”
Adrian thought.
“Daniel volunteered with wilderness rescue before Sophie was born.”
“Atlas learned scent trails?”
“Yes.”
“Locations?”
“Yes.”
Lena glanced toward the dog.
“What if the second copy isn’t hidden in a computer?”
Understanding slowly entered Adrian’s expression.
Atlas stood.
He walked toward the elevator.
Then looked back.
Sophie appeared from the hallway.
Barefoot.
Half asleep.
“What are you doing up?” Adrian asked.
She rubbed one eye.
“Atlas woke me.”
The dog nudged her hand.
Sophie stared at him.
“He wants Dad’s box.”
Adrian went still.
“What box?”
“The camping box.”
Marisol appeared behind her.
“Sophie?”
“The one at Grandma’s house.”
Adrian crouched.
“What camping box?”
Sophie became frustrated.
“Dad’s old orange one. Atlas always sat by it when we packed.”
Marisol’s eyes widened.
“Daniel’s search kit.”
They drove before dawn.
No convoy.
No company security.
Adrian no longer knew whom to trust.
Marisol’s home sat thirty minutes outside Las Vegas.
Atlas led them to the garage.
Old hiking equipment lined the wall.
Sophie pointed.
“There.”
Orange plastic storage case.
Adrian opened it.
Ropes.
Harnesses.
Emergency blankets.
An old whistle.
Atlas sniffed everything.
Then began scratching at the bottom.
Lena knelt.
“There’s a false panel.”
Adrian pried it open.
Empty.
Except for a handwritten note.
He unfolded it.
Three words.
WHERE SHE LAUGHS.
Adrian stared.
Sophie whispered, “Dad.”
“What does it mean?” Lena asked.
Sophie suddenly smiled.
“I know.”
They drove to Red Rock Canyon after sunrise.
Daniel had taken Sophie hiking there every birthday.
One particular trail led to a narrow overlook where Daniel had taken a photograph of Sophie laughing beside Atlas.
They found the spot.
Sophie searched near a weathered bench.
Atlas pulled toward a cluster of rocks.
Behind them sat a rusted emergency cache box.
Inside was a flash drive.
And another letter.
This one addressed:
ADRIAN AND ELLIOT.
Adrian opened it.
Brother,
If you’re reading this together, then maybe I was wrong about how stubborn both of you are.
If you’re reading it separately, fix that first.
Marcus knows about the accounts.
He isn’t working alone.
Dad started the system years ago.
I tried to shut it down.
Someone inside our security division is helping him.
Do not trust—
The paper was torn.
The final name missing.
Adrian stared at the edge.
“Grant.”
“Probably,” Lena said.
“No. Daniel would have written it.”
Sophie looked at Atlas.
“Maybe he ate it.”
Everyone turned.
She shrugged.
“He eats paper.”
Despite everything, Lena laughed.
Adrian did too.
Briefly.
Then a phone rang.
Adrian answered.
Marisol’s face appeared through video call.
Her expression was terrified.
“Adrian.”
“What happened?”
“The house alarm went off.”
“Where are you?”
“Back at the penthouse.”
“Lock yourself in.”
“I already did.”
“What about staff?”
“Evacuated.”
Then the camera shook.
A crash sounded behind her.
“Marisol?”
The call ended.
Adrian’s face drained.
Sophie began crying.
Atlas barked.
They raced back.
The penthouse floor had been breached.
No one was injured.
Marisol had escaped through a service stairwell.
But Sophie’s bedroom had been searched.
Drawers emptied.
Mattress cut.
Toys scattered.
Nothing stolen.
Except one thing.
The framed photograph of Daniel and Atlas from Red Rock Canyon.
Lena stared at the empty space on the wall.
“This wasn’t a robbery.”
“No,” Adrian said.
“It was a message.”
His phone rang.
Unknown number.
He answered on speaker.
Grant Keller spoke.
“You should have left the past buried.”
Adrian’s hand tightened around the phone.
“Where are you?”
“You still think this is about me?”
“Tell Marcus I’m coming.”
Grant laughed.
“Marcus?”
A pause.
“You really haven’t figured it out.”
The call disconnected.
Adrian stared at the screen.
Lena’s stomach turned.
“If Marcus isn’t running this…”
Adrian looked toward Sophie’s destroyed bedroom.
Then at the missing photograph.
“No.”
His voice was barely audible.
“There’s someone else.”
At that moment, Lena’s own phone chimed.
A security alert from her townhouse camera.
She opened it.
Her front door.
Open.
A person standing inside.
Then the camera shifted just enough to show the wall.
Written across it in black paint:
May you like
THE VET SHOULD HAVE STAYED A VET.
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