Chapter 13 - The Man Outside St. Jude
Daniel Reed appeared outside St. Jude at eight the next morning.
He did not hide.
Clara saw him through the community center window, standing across the street beside a dented gray pickup truck.
Thirty-five.
Maybe thirty-six.
Broad shoulders.
Dark beard.
Army-green jacket.
A man who looked less like a corporate blackmailer than someone who repaired engines for a living.
Marcus wanted security to remove him.
Clara refused.
“If he wanted to hurt me, he wouldn’t have mailed documents first.”
Adrian disagreed.
“That is exactly how some people establish leverage.”
Clara crossed her arms.
“And accusing everybody before hearing them worked beautifully for us last time.”
Adrian shut his mouth.
Elena coughed into her coffee to hide a smile.
Five minutes later, Daniel Reed entered the building.
Marcus searched him.
No weapon.
No recorder.
Daniel sat opposite Clara in the small conference room while Adrian stood behind her chair.
Daniel noticed.
“You always stand over your wife like that?”
Adrian’s expression turned glacial.
Clara pointed to a chair.
“Adrian.”
He sat.
Daniel almost smiled.
“I can see who actually runs this marriage.”
“Mr. Reed,” Clara said. “You sent me a photograph and an old wire transfer. Tell me what you want.”
“My father.”
Clara leaned forward.
“What happened to him?”
“According to Adrian Vale? He stole money and ran.”
Adrian spoke.
“I never said that.”
“Your family did.”
“My family said many things I had no control over.”
Daniel slammed a folder onto the table.
“My father, Thomas Reed, was chief financial controller for Vale Maritime. Twelve years ago he discovered forty-three million missing from dockworkers’ pensions. Three days later, he disappeared.”
Clara glanced at Adrian.
Daniel continued.
“His truck was found near Pier Seventeen. Blood on the steering wheel. No body.”
“What does that have to do with Adrian?” Clara asked.
“My father called my mother the night he vanished. Told her he had evidence that could destroy the Vale family.”
Adrian’s eyes narrowed.
“What time?”
“Eleven twenty-eight.”
Adrian stood abruptly.
“That’s impossible.”
Daniel stared at him.
“Why?”
“Because at eleven twenty-eight, Thomas was with me.”
Silence.
Clara’s pulse accelerated.
Adrian walked to the window.
“My father collapsed at eleven forty-seven. Malcolm arrived shortly after midnight. Thomas was there before that.”
“You met him?” Daniel demanded.
“Yes.”
“You never told police!”
“I gave my statement to federal investigators under sealed grand jury protection.”
Daniel shot to his feet.
“You knew my father was alive!”
“That night, yes.”
“Then where did he go?”
“I don’t know.”
Daniel shoved both hands onto the table.
“Convenient.”
Marcus stepped forward.
Clara raised one palm.
“Daniel.”
He looked at her.
“If Adrian wanted to bury this, why preserve the workers’ money and cooperate with prosecutors?”
Daniel breathed hard.
“Because your husband is very good at looking like the hero after the bodies disappear.”
Adrian’s face became dangerous.
But Clara saw something else.
Fear.
Not fear of Daniel.
Fear of what Clara might think.
She placed her hand over Adrian’s.
“I believe him.”
Three words.
Adrian looked at her.
Everything in his face softened.
Daniel noticed too.
Clara continued.
“But I also believe you deserve to know what happened to your father.”
Daniel slowly sat down.
Elena opened the folder.
Inside were copies of old police reports.
She flipped through them until she stopped.
“Oh, dear God.”
“What?” Clara asked.
Elena turned the page around.
There was a photograph of Thomas Reed’s abandoned truck.
On the passenger-side floor sat a familiar leather portfolio.
Embossed with gold initials.
V.V.
Vincent Vale.
Adrian stared at the photograph.
“Twelve years ago,” he whispered, “Vincent told everyone he was in London.”
Daniel’s voice turned bitter.
“Apparently your brother has been lying longer than anyone realized.”
Clara looked from Adrian to the photograph.
Vincent was already serving federal time.
May you like
But if Daniel was right, then the five-million-dollar Harbor House theft had not been Vincent’s first betrayal.
It might merely have been the latest chapter in a conspiracy that began with a missing man.
