Chapter 2 - The Maid Who Wasn't Supposed to Be There
Nicholas didn't take Emily to Southport Court.
Not immediately.
The fact that Graham knew enough to send a warning meant the building was either watched or controlled by people Nicholas didn't yet understand.
Instead, he moved Emily and Lucy to a guest apartment on the third floor of the mansion.
Emily hated that.
“This isn't necessary.”
“It is.”
“I have work.”
“You're not cleaning my house today.”
“I need the hours.”
Nicholas looked at her.
That sentence revealed more than she intended.
“How much do we pay you?”
Emily looked uncomfortable.
“Twenty-one fifty.”
“An hour?”
“Yes.”
“How many hours?”
“Usually thirty. Sometimes less.”
“And childcare?”
“Depends.”
“Rent?”
She crossed her arms.
“I don't know why that's relevant.”
“Because you're working in a mansion with nine bathrooms while apparently being one missed shift away from trouble.”
Her expression hardened.
“I didn't ask for charity.”
“Good. I didn't offer it.”
That answer surprised her.
Nicholas had learned years ago that poor people were often treated as though having less money meant having less pride.
His father made that mistake constantly.
Nicholas tried not to.
“I'm trying to understand why an employee connected to one of my properties is afraid of my executives.”
Emily looked at Lucy.
The toddler had fallen asleep on an enormous cream sofa with Bunny tucked beneath her chin.
“She shouldn't be here.”
“You've mentioned.”
“No.”
Emily lowered her voice.
“I mean any of this.”
Nicholas said nothing.
“She should be at daycare. I should be working. Daniel should still be alive.”
There it was.
The real wound.
“How did your husband die?”
“Car crash.”
“Police report?”
“Said he fell asleep.”
“Did he?”
“He hated coffee because it made him anxious, but the night he died he bought three energy drinks at a gas station.”
Nicholas frowned.
“How do you know?”
“The receipt was in his coat.”
That didn't prove anything.
But it bothered him.
“When did Daniel start suspecting financial fraud?”
“About two months before he died.”
“What exactly did he tell you?”
“Almost nothing.”
Emily smiled sadly.
“He thought he was protecting me.”
Nicholas understood the impulse.
He also knew how often protection became secrecy, and secrecy became vulnerability.
“He said some building invoices didn't make sense. Repairs billed twice. Contractors that didn't seem to exist. Apartments recorded as vacant when rent was still being collected.”
“Southport?”
“He didn't say.”
“And then?”
“Three nights before he died, he came home terrified.”
Nicholas leaned forward.
“Daniel wasn't easily scared?”
“No.”
“What did he say?”
Emily remembered carefully.
“He said, ‘It's bigger than property fraud.’”
“Anything else?”
“He told me if anybody from Rourke Urban ever asked whether he kept copies, I should say no.”
Nicholas's jaw tightened.
“Then Graham came.”
“Yes.”
“What exactly did he say?”
Emily looked embarrassed.
“That Daniel had stolen company documents.”
“Did he threaten you?”
“Not directly.”
“The best threats rarely are.”
She met his eyes.
“He stood in Lucy's bedroom.”
Nicholas went completely still.
“He did what?”
“I opened the door because he said he wanted to discuss Daniel's pension account. He walked through the apartment while he talked.”
“Without permission.”
“Yes.”
“He entered your daughter's bedroom?”
“Yes.”
“What did he do?”
“He looked at everything.”
Nicholas glanced at Bunny.
“He was searching.”
“Yes.”
“And afterward?”
“He smiled and told me Southport Court was scheduled for redevelopment.”
There it was.
“Was that the first you heard about redevelopment?”
“Yes.”
“Then notices appeared.”
“How soon?”
“The next morning.”
A knock came.
Nicholas's longtime attorney, Adrian Cole, entered carrying an isolated laptop.
At fifty-six, Adrian had silver hair and the exhausted expression of a man whose professional life involved preventing Nicholas from making expensive decisions while angry.
“You told me not to connect this to the network.”
“Correct.”
Adrian noticed Emily.
Then Lucy asleep.
Then Bunny.
His eyebrows rose.
“I see your board meeting evolved.”
“Open the drive.”
Adrian sat.
The flash drive was encrypted.
They tried obvious passwords.
Daniel's birthday.
Emily's.
Lucy's.
Wedding anniversary.
Nothing.
Emily stood behind them.
“Try Harbor.”
Nicholas looked at her.
“Why?”
“Daniel proposed at Harbor Point.”
Adrian typed it.
Rejected.
“What about Lucy?”
“Her full name is Lucia.”
Nicholas looked toward the sleeping child.
“Lucia?”
“My grandmother.”
They tried LUCIA.
Rejected.
Emily stared at the screen.
Then whispered, “Bluebird.”
“What?”
“Daniel called her Bluebird when she was a baby.”
Adrian entered BLUEBIRD.
The drive opened.
Nicholas glanced at Emily.
She was already crying.
Not because they'd found evidence.
Because a dead man's private name for his daughter had opened the thing he'd hidden.
Folders filled the screen.
SOUTHPORT.
LAKE AVENUE.
HARPER PLACE.
PIKE.
RURKE INTERNAL.
Nicholas frowned.
“That's misspelled.”
Adrian opened RURKE INTERNAL.
Inside were financial authorizations.
Invoices.
Photos.
Copies of internal emails.
And Nicholas's electronic signature.
Hundreds of times.
“Those are mine,” Nicholas said.
Adrian enlarged one.
“Visually.”
“I didn't approve this.”
“I'm aware.”
“How?”
“Because this vendor invoice authorizes payment to a company formed six months after the date supposedly shown on your approval.”
Forgery.
Sophisticated.
Systematic.
Daniel had documented it.
Adrian opened another folder.
A spreadsheet showed nearly $18 million transferred over five years through maintenance vendors servicing low-income Rourke properties.
“Jesus,” Adrian whispered.
Emily stared.
“Daniel found all this?”
“Looks like it.”
Nicholas's anger became cold.
He could handle being stolen from.
He couldn't tolerate the method.
Money had been extracted through properties occupied by people like Emily.
Maintenance budgets drained.
Buildings deliberately deteriorated.
Tenants pressured out.
Vacant buildings sold or redeveloped.
The fraud didn't merely steal money.
It manufactured suffering.
Adrian opened an audio file.
Daniel's voice filled the room.
“If you're listening to this, I couldn't get Nicholas Rourke directly.”
Emily gripped the back of a chair.
Nicholas stared at the laptop.
“I don't know if he knows what's happening. I don't think he does.”
A pause.
“But someone is signing his name.”
Daniel continued.
“Graham Pike isn't acting alone. The vendor scheme requires access to Rourke security, legal, accounting, and property systems.”
Nicholas looked at Adrian.
His attorney's face was grim.
Daniel's voice continued.
“I tried reporting through internal audit. My report disappeared.”
Nicholas felt something unpleasant move through his chest.
“I tried compliance. They scheduled a meeting, then canceled it.”
Another pause.
“Two days later, somebody followed my wife home.”
Emily closed her eyes.
Daniel continued.
“If I have an accident, it wasn't an accident.”
Silence filled the room.
Emily made a small sound.
Nicholas stopped the audio.
“I need a minute.”
Emily walked out.
Nicholas let her.
Adrian whispered, “We have to call federal authorities.”
“Eventually.”
“Nicholas.”
“Someone inside my organization killed—or may have killed—an employee who tried to report fraud.”
“Which is exactly why—”
“If we contact anyone through normal channels now, whoever did it knows what we found.”
Adrian looked frustrated.
“You're not handling this like one of your father's problems.”
Nicholas's eyes hardened.
“I spent ten years making sure I don't.”
That was true.
Old Rourke justice would've involved basements and broken fingers.
Nicholas wanted evidence.
Names.
Prosecution.
Something that survived court.
But first he needed to know whom he could trust.
He reopened the audio.
Daniel's final words were different.
“If something happens to me, check Property Archive 9. Original leases. Not digital copies.”
Adrian frowned.
“Where's Archive 9?”
Nicholas knew.
Basement records facility beneath Rourke Urban's downtown headquarters.
Controlled access.
Three executives could enter without secondary approval.
Nicholas.
Graham Pike.
And Adrian Cole.
Nicholas slowly looked toward his attorney.
Adrian understood immediately.
“Oh, come on.”
“I didn't say anything.”
“You didn't have to.”
Nicholas leaned back.
“Who accessed Archive 9 before Daniel died?”
“I don't know.”
“You have clearance.”
“So do you.”
“And Pike.”
“Yes.”
“Find out.”
Adrian stood.
“Nicholas, if you genuinely suspect me—”
“I genuinely suspect everybody.”
A child's voice came from the doorway.
“Bunny?”
Lucy stood rubbing one eye.
Emily was behind her.
Nicholas picked up the rabbit.
“Here.”
Lucy toddled toward him.
Emily started to stop her.
Then didn't.
Lucy took Bunny and climbed awkwardly against Nicholas's knee.
He stiffened.
Children were foreign territory.
Lucy apparently didn't care.
She held up the brass key again.
“Home.”
Nicholas looked at Emily.
“We're going.”
“Southport?”
“Yes.”
“You said it wasn't safe.”
“It wasn't.”
“What changed?”
“I know where they're looking.”
“That doesn't make it safe.”
“No.”
He stood.
“But Daniel told us where to find the next answer.”
“What about Lucy?”
Nicholas looked at the toddler.
“She stays here.”
Lucy immediately said, “No.”
Emily almost smiled despite herself.
Nicholas stared at the child.
“You're two.”
“Two half,” Lucy corrected.
Adrian turned away, clearly enjoying himself.
Nicholas sighed.
“You're staying.”
Lucy hugged Bunny.
May you like
“No.”
For the first time that morning, Nicholas Rourke discovered there was someone in Chicago completely unimpressed by his authority.
