Chapter 6 - THE BOOK IN THE LIBRARY
Z
Callahan House looked different at two in the morning.
Claire had lived there nearly her entire life, yet from the back seat of Vincent’s armored SUV, the mansion appeared less like a home than a beautifully maintained prison.
No lights burned upstairs.
The security booth near the iron gate was empty.
Daniel glanced over his shoulder.
“That bother anyone else?”
“Yes,” Vincent said.
Claire whispered, “My father never leaves the gate unattended.”
Vincent touched the radio.
“Teams two and three, perimeter only. Nobody enters until I say.”
Claire looked at him.
“You think it’s a trap.”
“I assume everything is a trap until I’m proven wrong.”
“That sounds exhausting.”
“It’s kept me alive.”
The SUV stopped behind the tree line.
Vincent turned toward her.
“You stay between me and Daniel.”
Claire nodded.
“If shooting starts?”
“Get down.”
“If you say run?”
“Run.”
“If I see my father?”
Vincent held her gaze.
“You let me handle him.”
Claire looked toward the mansion.
“I’ve spent my whole life letting someone else handle him.”
Vincent understood what she meant.
“That isn’t what I’m asking.”
“What are you asking?”
“I’m asking you not to confront an armed man to prove you’re brave.”
Claire’s expression softened.
“All right.”
They entered through the conservatory.
Claire knew Patrick’s alarm code.
It had not changed.
That frightened her more than if it had.
“He expects us,” she whispered.
Vincent nodded.
They moved through the dark dining room.
Claire saw ghosts everywhere.
Her mother’s empty chair.
Christmas dinners she had eaten before everyone else arrived.
The hallway where Patrick once told her she was not “presentation material.”
The staircase she had descended hours before being sent to Vincent.
Daniel touched his earpiece.
“No movement.”
Claire led them upstairs.
The library door stood open.
A lamp burned inside.
Vincent raised one hand.
Everyone stopped.
He entered first.
Patrick Callahan sat in Claire’s favorite reading chair with a glass of whiskey.
“Finally.”
Claire’s breath caught.
Patrick smiled.
“There’s my bride.”
Vincent stepped in front of her.
“Careful.”
Patrick laughed.
“Still playing protector?”
“No.”
Vincent’s voice was calm.
“I’m being your final warning.”
Patrick set down the glass.
Daniel and two security men spread through the room.
Patrick appeared unconcerned.
Claire looked immediately toward the shelf where she had hidden Sean Brady’s evidence.
The book was gone.
Patrick saw her glance.
“Looking for something?”
Claire’s stomach dropped.
Vincent’s eyes stayed on Patrick.
“Where is it?”
Patrick leaned back.
“I’m impressed, Claire.”
She said nothing.
“All these years I thought those books were simply your way of avoiding real life.”
Claire found her voice.
“You thought wrong about a lot of things.”
Patrick’s smile disappeared.
“There she is.”
Claire froze.
Patrick stood.
“The attitude.”
Vincent moved slightly.
Patrick noticed.
“Oh, relax. I’m not going to hit her.”
Claire’s silence told Vincent enough.
His head turned slowly.
“You’ve hit her?”
Patrick rolled his eyes.
“For God’s sake. Every parent disciplines a difficult child.”
Vincent took one step forward.
Daniel quietly said, “Vincent.”
Patrick smiled again.
“You see? This is exactly what she does. Looks frightened. Lets men imagine whatever they want. Suddenly she’s the victim.”
Claire’s hands curled into fists.
“No.”
Patrick looked at her.
“What?”
“No.”
She stepped around Vincent.
Vincent almost stopped her.
Then saw her face.
She needed this.
Claire stood twenty feet from her father.
“I didn’t make you call me disgusting when I was fourteen.”
Patrick’s expression hardened.
“I didn’t make you hide me from your business dinners.”
“Claire.”
“I didn’t make you tell Vincent I slept with men I barely knew.”
“Enough.”
“I didn’t make you steal his shipment.”
Patrick’s eyes flashed.
“I did what was necessary.”
“For what?”
Patrick laughed.
“You still don’t understand.”
“Then explain it.”
Something moved behind the shelves.
Daniel turned instantly.
“Clear!”
No response.
Patrick smiled.
Vincent saw it.
“Down!”
The library exploded with gunfire.
Glass shattered.
Claire dropped behind the desk as Vincent covered her.
Daniel fired toward the upper gallery.
A man collapsed behind the railing.
More shots came from the hallway.
Vincent’s security team returned fire.
Patrick ran.
Claire saw him disappear through the narrow door behind the fireplace.
“He’s using the old servants’ stairs!”
Vincent pulled her up.
“Stay with Daniel.”
“No, I know where it comes out!”
She ran toward the side corridor.
“Claire!”
Vincent swore and followed.
They descended a narrow stone staircase that smelled of dust and cold masonry.
At the bottom, Claire heard a door slam.
“The kitchen.”
They burst into the service corridor.
Patrick stood at the far end.
A gun in one hand.
The missing copy of The Count of Monte Cristo in the other.
“Stop.”
Vincent immediately stepped in front of Claire.
Patrick laughed.
“How touching.”
Vincent raised his gun.
“Put yours down.”
“No.”
“Patrick.”
“You think this is about four million dollars?”
“I know it isn’t.”
Patrick’s eyes flickered.
“You have no idea how large this is.”
“Then enlighten me.”
Patrick looked at Claire.
“You should have stayed stupid.”
Claire flinched.
Vincent’s voice became deadly.
“Look at me.”
Patrick ignored him.
“You ruined everything.”
Claire stared at her father.
“I ruined it?”
“If you had simply married him and smiled, the investigation would have led where it needed to lead.”
“To me.”
“Yes.”
The word came without shame.
Something inside Claire finally went quiet.
Not broke.
Quiet.
The child who had spent years waiting for her father to become better stopped waiting.
Patrick continued.
“You were protected. Caruso would have kept you comfortable.”
“While I went to prison?”
Patrick shrugged.
“A few years, maybe. Good lawyers—”
Vincent moved before Claire even processed the sentence.
“Drop the gun.”
Patrick laughed.
“You really do care about her.”
Vincent’s expression betrayed nothing.
Patrick saw enough anyway.
“That’s unfortunate.”
He raised the gun.
Claire screamed.
A shot exploded.
Patrick’s weapon flew from his hand.
He collapsed against the wall, clutching his shoulder.
Daniel appeared behind them, smoke rising from his pistol.
“Everyone alive?”
Vincent immediately checked Claire.
“I’m fine.”
Patrick groaned on the floor.
Claire looked at the book lying beside him.
She walked toward it.
Vincent caught her wrist.
“Let security take it.”
“No.”
He studied her.
Then released her.
Claire picked up the book.
The leather cover had split.
Inside the carved center were a flash drive and a small black notebook.
Daniel stared.
“There it is.”
Patrick started laughing.
“You think Sean’s notes matter?”
Claire looked down at him.
Patrick’s face had gone pale.
“You have no idea who you’re fighting.”
Vincent crouched nearby.
“Give me a name.”
Patrick smiled through the pain.
“Ask your uncle.”
Vincent froze.
Daniel did too.
Claire looked between them.
“What?”
Patrick laughed harder.
“Salvatore Caruso.”
Vincent’s father’s younger brother.
A man who had advised Vincent since he was twenty-two.
A man who had attended his wedding hours earlier.
Patrick leaned his head against the wall.
“You wanted the traitor inside your organization?”
May you like
He smiled at Vincent.
“You’ve been calling him Uncle Sal your whole life.”
