Chapter 3 - The Brother Who Lied
Victor Voss arrived at 2:06 a.m.
He came alone.
That surprised Rue.
A man accused of taking Harlan Voss's daughter should have brought an army.
Victor brought snow on his shoulders and fury in his eyes.
Harlan met him in the library.
Rue wasn't invited.
She listened from the hallway anyway.
“You took her.”
Victor laughed once.
No humor.
“You've finally lost your mind.”
“Your car left with Belle inside.”
“My car was stolen.”
“Your cuff link was in her hand.”
Silence.
That was the first crack.
Rue moved closer.
Victor spoke more quietly.
“Show me.”
Harlan must have done it.
Victor swore.
“Where did she get that?”
“You tell me.”
“I lost it three weeks ago.”
“Convenient.”
“Ask Marianne.”
Rue frowned.
Marianne.
She hadn't heard that name.
Harlan's voice sharpened.
“What does my wife have to do with this?”
Rue's stomach dropped.
Wife?
For reasons she didn't care to examine, that word bothered her.
Victor answered.
“Your late wife, Harlan. Marianne had those made.”
Silence.
Victor continued.
“She ordered four pairs before she died. Yours. Mine. Father's. And one pair for the charity auction.”
Harlan opened the door.
Rue nearly fell forward.
He stared at her.
“You're terrible at eavesdropping.”
“I've had a difficult evening.”
Victor looked past him.
“So this is the waitress.”
“Rue,” she said.
“Victor.”
“I gathered.”
Harlan looked annoyed.
“Why are you here?”
Rue walked into the library.
“Because something's wrong.”
“Many things are wrong.”
“The cuff link.”
Victor watched her.
Rue pointed toward him.
“If you lost yours three weeks ago, somebody could have planted it.”
“Exactly.”
Harlan's face remained cold.
“You expect me to believe that?”
“No,” Victor said. “You stopped believing me when we were seventeen.”
Rue looked between them.
There it was.
History.
Old and ugly.
Victor pulled out his phone.
“I wasn't driving my car.”
He opened a photograph.
A restaurant receipt.
8:31 p.m.
Windsor, Canada.
Harlan frowned.
“You crossed the border?”
“At seven.”
“Why?”
“To meet Katherine Sloan.”
The family attorney suddenly looked uncomfortable.
Rue noticed.
“Who's Katherine Sloan?”
Victor ignored her.
Harlan didn't.
“Former CFO of Voss Meridian.”
“Former?”
“I fired her six months ago.”
Victor nodded.
“She contacted me yesterday. Said she had proof somebody had been moving money through shell companies connected to the theater.”
Rue thought of Belle.
“The Meridian Theater?”
“Yes.”
Victor looked at Harlan.
“She told me Father didn't keep that building because he was sentimental.”
Harlan's expression changed.
“He kept it because of what was underneath it.”
The room went quiet.
Victor continued.
“There are archived company records in the basement. Originals. Before everything went digital.”
“What records?”
“I don't know. Katherine never showed.”
Harlan stared at him.
“You expect me to believe you crossed an international border to meet a woman who never arrived?”
“Check immigration.”
“I will.”
Rue studied Victor.
“Why didn't you tell Harlan earlier?”
Victor laughed bitterly.
“Because my brother believes every conversation is a confession.”
“That's not the whole reason.”
Victor looked at her.
Rue waited.
Finally he said, “Katherine told me not to trust anyone in this house.”
Harlan stepped forward.
“Who?”
“She wouldn't say.”
“Then why trust you?”
Victor's expression turned strangely sad.
“She didn't.”
He slid his phone across the table.
A message.
IF ANYTHING HAPPENS TO ME, FIND AUGUSTUS'S LEDGER.
Harlan read it twice.
Rue asked, “Who's Augustus?”
“Our father,” both brothers said.
At 3:10 a.m., Jonah confirmed Victor had crossed into Canada before Belle disappeared.
At 3:22, they confirmed his sedan had been taken from the private garage by someone wearing a staff security uniform.
At 3:41, Harlan stopped accusing his brother.
He didn't apologize.
Victor didn't expect him to.
Rue watched the two men from opposite sides of the library.
Brothers.
Both angry.
Both scared.
Neither willing to admit the second part.
Then Belle appeared in the doorway.
“Uncle Vic?”
Victor turned.
His entire face changed.
He knelt.
“Hey, bug.”
Belle ran to him.
Harlan stiffened but didn't stop her.
Victor hugged Belle carefully.
“I didn't take you.”
Belle pulled back.
“I know.”
Everyone froze.
Harlan crouched beside her.
“Belle, sweetheart, do you remember who did?”
She shook her head.
“Do you remember getting into Uncle Victor's car?”
Another shake.
Then Belle looked at Victor's shirt cuffs.
“Pretty button.”
Victor went pale.
“What?”
“The lady gave me the pretty button.”
Harlan leaned closer.
“What lady?”
Belle squeezed her stuffed rabbit.
“She smelled like flowers.”
“Do you know her?”
Belle thought.
“She comes to Daddy's office.”
Harlan stood.
“Who?”
Belle couldn't remember.
Rue sat beside her.
“That's okay. Don't force it.”
Belle leaned against Rue.
Harlan watched them.
Victor quietly said, “Somebody wanted her to carry my cuff link.”
“Yes,” Rue said.
“And somebody wanted Harlan to find it.”
Victor looked at his brother.
“To make you come after me.”
The brothers stared at each other.
A family war engineered by somebody else.
Rue's phone rang.
Unknown number again.
Harlan immediately reached for it.
Rue pulled away.
“My phone.”
“Put it on speaker.”
She answered.
Nothing.
Then breathing.
Rue's stomach tightened.
“Who is this?”
A distorted voice whispered:
“You were warned.”
The call ended.
Jonah started tracing it.
Rue tried to joke.
“Well, that's friendly.”
Nobody laughed.
Harlan stepped toward her.
“You're moving upstairs beside Belle.”
“I can take care of myself.”
“I'm aware.”
“Then stop ordering me around.”
“Someone is threatening you.”
“I noticed.”
“And I will not allow—”
A tremendous crash shattered the window behind Rue.
Harlan moved before she understood what had happened.
He grabbed her around the waist and pulled her down.
Glass exploded across the carpet.
Victor ducked.
Jonah drew his weapon.
Rue's heart hammered.
No gunshot followed.
Instead, something metallic rolled across the library floor.
Harlan covered Rue with his body until Jonah shouted:
“Clear!”
Rue looked toward the object.
Not a bullet.
A brick.
Wrapped around it was a photograph.
Jonah picked it up.
His face hardened.
“What?”
Harlan took it.
Rue saw herself.
Walking home from work two nights earlier.
Before she'd ever met Belle.
Before the garage.
Someone had been watching her before any of this happened.
Rue looked at Harlan.
“This isn't because I found Belle.”
For once, he had no answer.
Rue pointed at the photograph.
“They already knew who I was.”
And suddenly the most frightening question wasn't who had taken Belle.
May you like
It was why Rue Callaway had been chosen to find her.
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