Chapter 13 - TWELVE MINUTES
The lights returned.
Music did not.
Guests were being moved into the ballroom under police supervision.
Adrian kept Maya inside his locked study.
“Stay behind the desk.”
“What about Dad?”
“I'll find him.”
“You said brave people let others protect them.”
Adrian stopped.
She had him.
“Fine.”
He activated the study's internal deadbolt and called Daniel.
“Get here.”
Two minutes later Daniel arrived.
“You stay with Maya.”
Daniel nodded.
Adrian went downstairs.
Federal agents had detained the two impostors who tried to remove Maya and Thomas from the safe house.
Thomas had escaped them during a gas-station stop.
But nobody knew where he was.
Then Adrian received a call.
Thomas.
“Where are you?”
“Don't say my name.”
Adrian stopped.
Thomas sounded out of breath.
“They put something in the safe house.”
“What?”
“A bomb.”
Adrian's stomach dropped.
“Where?”
“I heard them talking in the car.”
“Thomas, where are you?”
“Service road near the south gate.”
Adrian ran.
He found Thomas beside a hedge.
Alive.
Maya threw herself into her father's arms minutes later.
But the warning had changed everything.
Federal teams checked the gala.
At 8:22 p.m., a device was found beneath the electrical control room.
Not large enough to destroy the mansion.
Large enough to create chaos and erase servers.
A data destruction operation.
Simon intended to wipe evidence.
Twelve minutes remained on the timer.
Guests evacuated.
Adrian watched Simon leave calmly with Eleanor Shaw.
Too calmly.
“He knew.”
Rebecca agreed.
But still no direct proof.
The bomb squad disabled the device with three minutes remaining.
Investigators traced components to Northstar Risk.
Victor Raines disappeared during the evacuation.
Again.
Then the mansion's primary servers went dark.
The bomb had been a distraction.
Someone had remotely initiated data deletion.
Adrian ran to the server room.
Maya followed before Thomas could stop her.
Screens flashed.
Folders disappeared.
Rebecca swore.
“Evan's files.”
“We have copies.”
“Corporate archive.”
Adrian watched fifteen years of records vanishing.
Maya pointed.
“That one isn't deleting.”
A small terminal showed a backup connection.
Destination unknown.
“Someone is copying before deleting,” Adrian said.
Rebecca traced it.
The connection led to a private server registered to Redhaven Capital.
Julian.
Everyone turned.
Julian stood in the doorway.
“I didn't do it.”
Adrian stepped toward him.
“You own the server.”
“I gave Simon access months ago.”
Rebecca stared.
“You never mentioned that.”
“I forgot.”
Adrian's laugh was dangerous.
“People keep forgetting important things around me.”
Julian lowered his head.
Then Maya said, “He didn't do it.”
Everyone looked at her.
“How do you know?”
She pointed at the access log.
“The login started at seven-fifty.”
“So?”
“Mr. Julian was talking to me at seven-fifty.”
Julian looked at her.
“You remember?”
“You spilled sparkling water on my drawing.”
For the second time, Maya's ridiculous attention to detail became an alibi.
Rebecca traced the remote session further.
The terminal identifier came from a device registered to—
Dr. Stephen Lowell.
Adrian's physician.
Police moved to Lowell's home.
Empty.
His car was found at O'Hare.
A flight manifest showed he had booked travel to Switzerland.
He never boarded.
Then a message arrived from Lowell himself.
I WANT IMMUNITY. I HAVE EVERYTHING.
Adrian called.
Lowell answered.
“I didn't falsify those medical reports because I believed Simon.”
“Why did you do it?”
“Money.”
“Where are you?”
“I'll tell federal agents after immunity.”
“What do you have?”
“Proof Simon ordered the Marlow cover-up.”
Adrian looked at Celeste.
Lowell continued.
“And proof Charles Vale knew.”
“We already have that.”
“No.”
Lowell's voice lowered.
“You have part of it.”
“What part are we missing?”
“The reason Evan Marlow had to die.”
Celeste gripped the table.
Adrian asked, “What reason?”
Lowell hesitated.
“Because the six million dollars wasn't the real crime.”
The line went dead.
Thirty seconds later, police received an automated emergency alert from Lowell's phone.
His vehicle had crashed near an industrial road.
When agents arrived, Lowell was alive.
Barely conscious.
Before paramedics took him away, he whispered one sentence.
“Ask what they tested on the children.”
Adrian looked at Rebecca.
“What children?”
May you like
Nobody knew.
And suddenly the old financial fraud looked very small.
