Chapter 9 - Someone Is Watching Mason
Jenna reached Mason's room so fast she nearly collided with the doorframe.
The bed was empty.
Her heart stopped.
“Mason!”
No answer.
She ran into the hallway.
“MASON!”
Andrew was two steps behind her.
Security officers flooded the corridor.
One spoke into his radio.
“Locate the child now.”
Jenna turned on Andrew.
“You said he was safe!”
“He is here.”
“You don't know that!”
“I will.”
Her face crumpled for one second.
Not weakness.
Terror.
The kind every parent understood.
Then a voice came from downstairs.
“Mom?”
Jenna spun.
Mason stood at the bottom of the staircase wearing dinosaur pajamas and holding a bowl of cereal.
“What?”
She ran down.
Dropped to her knees.
Pulled him into her arms so hard cereal spilled across the floor.
“Mom!”
“Where were you?”
“Kitchen.”
“Why?”
“I was hungry.”
“Where is Mr. Chomps?”
Mason frowned.
“I couldn't find him.”
Jenna closed her eyes.
Andrew watched.
Whoever delivered that box had entered his house.
Not the gate.
Not the grounds.
The house.
Or someone inside had helped them.
The thought made something ancient and cold awaken in him.
He turned to security.
“Lock the property down.”
“Sir—”
“Nobody leaves.”
Within twenty minutes, Andrew knew how the dinosaur disappeared.
A catering contractor had arrived the previous evening for a scheduled delivery.
One staff member carried boxes upstairs.
Security footage showed nothing unusual.
Except that twenty-three seconds of hallway video had been deleted.
“Inside access,” Jenna said.
Andrew nodded.
He dismissed half the staff to a secured guest wing while investigators reviewed records.
Mason sat beside Jenna.
Andrew crouched in front of him.
“Can I ask you something?”
The boy nodded.
“Did anyone come into your room last night?”
“No.”
“Anyone you didn't know?”
Mason thought.
“A lady.”
Jenna stiffened.
“What lady?”
“The one who brought towels.”
Andrew looked toward security.
“Description?”
Mason shrugged.
“Brown hair.”
“How old?”
“Old.”
Jenna almost smiled despite herself.
“How old is old?”
“Like thirty.”
Andrew's security director coughed to hide a laugh.
Jenna stared at him.
“Thank you, Mason.”
“What did she say?”
Mason thought again.
“She asked if Mr. Chomps was important.”
Andrew went still.
“And?”
“I said yes.”
“What did she do?”
“Nothing.”
“Did she touch him?”
“I don't know.”
Security identified the staff member.
There was only one problem.
No employee matching Mason's description had been assigned upstairs.
A woman had entered the Vaughn residence under false identification.
She had walked past armed security.
Entered a child's room.
Taken a toy.
Then left.
Not to hurt Mason.
To send a message.
We can reach him.
Jenna packed immediately.
Andrew followed her.
“You can't leave.”
“Watch me.”
“They know your apartment.”
“I'll go somewhere else.”
“They'll follow.”
“Then what do you suggest?”
“Stay.”
She turned.
“They came into his room!”
“And they won't do it again.”
“How can you say that?”
“Because I know how they did it now.”
“That doesn't make me feel better.”
“No. But running blind makes you easier to reach.”
Jenna stared at him.
He lowered his voice.
“I failed yesterday.”
The admission stopped her.
“I brought you somewhere I thought was secure. It wasn't enough.”
Andrew looked at Mason.
“I won't make the same assumption twice.”
“What are you doing?”
“Moving you.”
“Where?”
“A property only three people know I own.”
“No staff?”
“None.”
“Security?”
“People I trust personally.”
She hesitated.
“Who are the three?”
“Me. My attorney. And the man who built it.”
“Richard?”
“No.”
That mattered.
An hour later, they left in separate vehicles.
A decoy convoy went north.
Jenna and Mason traveled south with Andrew in an ordinary SUV.
Mason fell asleep thirty minutes into the drive.
Jenna stared out at marshland passing beneath gray skies.
“I'm sorry,” Andrew said.
“For what part?”
“The dinosaur.”
She looked at him.
“They didn't hurt Mason.”
“No.”
“But they wanted me to imagine they could.”
“Yes.”
“That's almost worse.”
Andrew's hands tightened on the steering wheel.
“I know.”
“You don't have children.”
“No.”
“Then you don't.”
He accepted the correction.
After a minute Jenna sighed.
“Sorry.”
“Don't.”
She looked at him.
“You're allowed to be angry.”
“That might be the first healthy thing a boss has ever told me.”
“I'm not your boss.”
“No.”
Something about that answer sat between them.
Andrew focused on the road.
The safe property was a restored cottage on fifty acres near the coast.
Nothing like his mansion.
Wood floors.
Simple furniture.
A porch overlooking marsh grass.
Mason loved it immediately.
“Can we live here?”
“No,” Jenna said.
Andrew replied, “Maybe.”
She looked at him.
“Do not bribe my child with real estate.”
“It wasn't a bribe.”
“He's six.”
“He asked a question.”
“You are impossible.”
“You came back.”
“I absolutely did not come back.”
“You're conducting a fraud investigation from my property using my systems.”
“As an independent consultant.”
“We haven't signed a contract.”
“Then technically I'm still unemployed.”
Andrew paused.
“Send me your terms.”
She blinked.
“What?”
“For consulting.”
“You're serious?”
“Yes.”
Jenna thought.
“Five hundred dollars an hour.”
“Fine.”
Her mouth opened.
“You were supposed to negotiate.”
“You said everything isn't a negotiation.”
“I hate when people listen to me.”
Andrew smiled.
She added, “Eight-hour minimum.”
“Fine.”
“Full legal indemnification.”
“Fine.”
“My work product remains attributed to me.”
“Obviously.”
She stared.
“No, Andrew. Not obviously. Not at Harborline.”
His smile disappeared.
“Right.”
Mason appeared from the hallway.
“Can Mr. Vaughn stay for dinner?”
Jenna sighed.
“He owns the house.”
“That wasn't my question.”
Andrew looked at Jenna.
She surrendered.
“Fine.”
Dinner became grilled cheese because the cottage refrigerator contained almost nothing.
Andrew burned the first batch.
Mason announced this to everyone.
Later, when Mason slept, Jenna and Andrew returned to work.
A strange intimacy grew in the quiet cottage.
Not romance.
Not yet.
Something more fragile.
Trust.
At 10:48, Jenna discovered a hidden link between Calder Maritime and Blake's personal accounts.
At 11:03, Andrew's investigators confirmed Richard had met Marcus Calder five times in six months.
At 11:17, Jenna found something more disturbing.
A shipment number.
“What?” Andrew asked.
She turned the laptop.
“This load left Savannah yesterday.”
“So?”
“It belongs to Magnolia Coast.”
“That company has no active freight.”
“Exactly.”
Destination:
Warehouse 17.
A Harborline property Andrew believed had been empty for two years.
Andrew stood.
“I'll send security.”
Jenna shook her head.
“Not company security.”
“Why?”
“If someone infiltrated your house, assume somebody infiltrated your company.”
Andrew hated it.
But agreed.
He called two men he trusted from childhood.
At 1:22 a.m., they reached Warehouse 17.
The first photo arrived five minutes later.
Rows of archived boxes.
Old Vaughn records.
The second image showed servers.
Active servers.
The third showed stacks of Harborline seals and customs documentation.
Counterfeit.
Andrew stared.
Then a fourth photograph arrived.
A wall.
Pinned to it were surveillance photos.
Andrew entering buildings.
Board members.
Federal agents.
Jenna leaving work.
Mason outside school.
Jenna covered her mouth.
One image showed Mason on a playground three months earlier.
Three months.
They had been watching her before she found the vendor fraud.
“Why?” Jenna whispered.
Andrew enlarged another photo.
There was an image of Jenna at Harborline from almost two years earlier.
A red circle had been drawn around her.
Beneath it:
REED — CHECK FAMILY CONNECTION.
Andrew frowned.
“What family connection?”
Jenna stared.
“I have no idea.”
Then one of Andrew's men called.
“There's another room.”
“What is it?”
“You need to come see this.”
“Tell me.”
A pause.
“It's about Jenna's father.”
Jenna froze.
“My father has been dead for seventeen years.”
The man answered quietly.
May you like
“Then somebody has been keeping his files alive.”
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