Chapter 18 - THE TRUTH ABOUT JENNA HART|
For a moment, Jenna didn't move.
"What does that mean?"
Victor Voss paced slowly between the freight cars.
"Thomas Hart was more than an accountant. He maintained the records that connected the money to the people who controlled it. He knew where every dollar went, who authorized every transfer, and which names were false."
"That still doesn't explain me."
"Your father made a copy of the records. But he didn't trust a bank, a lawyer, or a safe deposit box. He hid the information in a system no one would think to search."
Voss looked at her.
"He used your childhood."
Jenna frowned.
"My childhood?"
"The stories he read to you. The games he invented. The little codes he taught you when you were learning numbers."
Her face changed.
I remembered her telling me about her father's books, the secret library card, and the way he had turned ordinary things into puzzles.
"He taught me to recognize patterns," she whispered.
"Exactly. He encoded part of the ledger into a series of children's stories. He believed that if the documents were ever lost, you might remember the pattern."
Jenna stared at him.
"I was a child."
"Which made you the perfect hiding place."
I felt a surge of anger.
"You murdered a man and endangered his daughter for a set of financial records?"
Voss's expression remained calm.
"I did what was necessary."
"No," Jenna said.
Her voice was quiet, but it carried across the depot.
"You did what was convenient. You took people's lives because you believed they were obstacles."
Voss raised his gun toward her.
I moved, but Jenna caught my arm.
"Don't."
She looked at Voss.
"You want the ledger? Then you need me alive."
He hesitated.
It was the first mistake he had made all night.
Jenna turned to Margaret.
"Do you remember the stories Dad used to read? The one about the fox who stole the moon?"
Margaret stared at her.
Then understanding dawned.
"The illustrations."
Jenna nodded.
"Every book had a number hidden in the border. I thought it was a game."
Voss's eyes narrowed.
"Where are the books?"
"In the library," Jenna said.
"Which library?"
"The one where my father taught me to read."
Voss smiled again.
"Then you'll take me there."
"No."
The word came from behind him.
Ryan had pushed himself upright despite his injury. His face was pale, and blood ran down his sleeve.
"You don't get to use her anymore."
Voss turned.
"You've been useful, Ryan. Don't confuse that with importance."
Ryan looked at Jenna.
"I'm sorry."
She stared at him.
"You don't get to ask for forgiveness while holding a gun."
He lowered it.
For a moment, I thought he might surrender.
Then Voss fired.
Ryan fell to the ground.
Jenna screamed.
I lunged toward Voss, but his men moved between us. Marcus and our security team returned fire, forcing the attackers behind the freight cars.
I reached Jenna as she knelt beside Ryan.
He was alive, barely.
"Why?" she whispered.
Ryan struggled to speak.
"Because... I finally understood."
"Understood what?"
His eyes moved toward me.
"That you can't make someone love you by trapping them."
He coughed.
Then he grabbed Jenna's wrist.
"The books aren't the only hiding place. Your father left a final message."
"Where?"
Ryan's gaze drifted toward Voss.
"In the one place he knew Voss would never look."
His hand went limp.
Jenna shook her head.
"Ryan?"
He was unconscious, but still breathing.
Marcus called for medical assistance.
Across the depot, Voss escaped through a side gate.
Before his men disappeared into the darkness, he shouted one final warning.
"By sunrise, every record connected to your family will be destroyed!"
Jenna stood, wiping her tears.
Then she looked at me.
"Evan, I know where my father hid the final message."
"Where?"
She swallowed.
"In the one place no one has searched."
May you like
She looked down at the silver pendant around her neck.
"The gift you gave me."
