Chapter 6 - The Brother Who Ran
I did not go alone.
Marcus had demanded it.
I ignored him.
Detective Ortiz came in an unmarked car.
Naomi waited two blocks away.
Maya stayed at the hotel.
The apartment sat above a closed bookstore in Sausalito.
Marcus opened the door before I knocked.
He looked terrible.
Unshaven.
White shirt wrinkled.
Eyes bloodshot.
“You brought police.”
“You married into the wrong family if you expected me to trust instructions.”
He almost smiled.
“Fair.”
Ortiz searched the apartment.
No one else.
No obvious threat.
Then Marcus locked the door.
“You found the room.”
“Yes.”
“My file?”
“Yes.”
“Maya’s?”
“Yes.”
He rubbed his face.
“I told them to destroy it.”
“Who?”
“My parents.”
“When?”
“Four years ago.”
“Why?”
“Because Maya found it.”
I stared at him.
“She thought you knew.”
“I knew some.”
My stomach tightened.
“How much?”
He looked at Ortiz.
Then at me.
“I knew my father researched people.”
“People?”
“Women.”
“Potential wives?”
He did not answer.
“That’s a yes.”
“My mother called it due diligence.”
I laughed.
“It was surveillance.”
“I know.”
“Now.”
“Yes.”
“What did you know then?”
“That they cared about family compatibility.”
“Financial compatibility.”
“Social connections.”
“Background.”
“Did you know Maya had been investigated before meeting you?”
Marcus closed his eyes.
“Yes.”
I almost hit him.
Maya had defended him.
Loved him.
Built a family with him.
And he had known.
“She needs to hear that from you.”
“She will.”
“You’re assuming she’ll still speak to you.”
“I’m not assuming anything.”
Ortiz interrupted.
“What do you know about Sophie Ward?”
Marcus’s face changed.
A long silence followed.
Then he sat.
“Sophie is alive.”
I stared.
Maya had believed she vanished.
The family had implied she moved east.
“Where?”
“I don’t know exactly.”
“Liar.”
“I helped her leave.”
Ortiz stepped closer.
“Explain.”
Marcus stared at his hands.
“Adrian hit her.”
“How many times?”
“I know of two.”
My throat tightened.
“The last time was bad.”
“How bad?”
“She needed hospital treatment.”
“Did she get it?”
“Eventually.”
“Why eventually?”
“Because my parents kept her at the vineyard overnight.”
I felt sick.
“Against her will?”
Marcus looked at me.
“Yes.”
Ortiz’s voice hardened.
“Why?”
“They wanted her to sign documents.”
“What documents?”
“An NDA.”
“Financial releases.”
“A statement saying her injuries were accidental.”
“And?”
“A transfer agreement.”
“What was she transferring?”
“Shares.”
Of course.
It had always been shares.
“What happened?”
“She refused.”
“And?”
“My father threatened to ruin her.”
“My mother called her parents.”
“They found every debt the family had.”
“Every weakness.”
“They made it clear Sophie’s brother would lose financing for his company.”
“Her mother’s medical insurance situation would become public.”
“They had everything.”
“How did she escape?”
“I opened the basement door.”
That answer changed the room.
“You?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because I heard her crying.”
His voice broke slightly.
“I had spent my whole life telling myself my parents were difficult.”
“Controlling.”
“Old-fashioned.”
“That night I realized they were criminals.”
“Where was Adrian?”
“Upstairs.”
“Drinking.”
“Did he try to stop you?”
“No.”
“Did he know?”
Marcus hesitated.
“Yes.”
The answer cut deep even though I already knew what Adrian was.
“He let you take her?”
“He told me where her car keys were.”
For one dangerous second, pity tried to enter me.
I rejected it.
Helping Sophie escape did not erase what Adrian did to her.
Marcus continued.
“I drove her to Sacramento.”
“Someone she trusted met us.”
“She changed numbers.”
“Moved.”
“I never contacted her again.”
“Why?”
“Because she told me not to.”
Ortiz asked, “How do you know she is still alive?”
Marcus stood.
Walked to a drawer.
Removed an envelope.
Inside was a photograph.
Recent.
Sophie Ward outside a coffee shop.
On the back:
YOU DIDN’T STOP THEM.
DON’T FAIL THE NEXT ONE.
The date was three months ago.
Before the dinner.
Before my assault.
Before I knew anything.
“Who sent it?”
“No return address.”
“Did you tell anyone?”
“No.”
“Why not Claire?”
His eyes met mine.
“I tried.”
I laughed bitterly.
“When?”
“The fundraiser in June.”
I remembered.
Marcus had pulled me aside.
Asked whether Adrian knew how much of Bennett Meridian I controlled.
I had thought the question rude.
I told him it was none of his business.
Then Eleanor interrupted us.
“You could have said, ‘My family is targeting you.’”
“I was afraid they were monitoring me.”
“They were.”
“I know.”
Ortiz studied him.
“What about Claire’s father?”
Marcus went still.
I leaned forward.
“You know something.”
“My father met him.”
“Why?”
“Bennett Meridian.”
I stopped breathing.
“When?”
“Several times.”
“My father told me he wanted to buy your father’s voting interest.”
“My father refused?”
“Yes.”
“What happened?”
“Your father threatened to expose Charles.”
“For what?”
Marcus stared at me.
“For using marriages to gain control of private assets.”
My hands went cold.
“How did my father know?”
“Because Sophie told him.”
Everything rearranged itself.
Sophie.
My father.
Charles.
Years before Adrian met me.
“What did my father do?”
“He started investigating.”
“And then he died.”
Marcus looked away.
I stood.
“Look at me.”
He did.
“Did Charles kill my father?”
“I don’t know.”
“Did you ever hear him threaten him?”
“No.”
“Did Eleanor?”
Marcus’s silence lasted too long.
“What did she say?”
He swallowed.
“I heard my mother tell my father something after Bennett refused the deal.”
“What?”
Marcus’s voice dropped.
“She said, ‘Some men only become reasonable after they understand what can be taken from them.’”
“That could mean anything.”
“Yes.”
“What did Charles say?”
“He said your father wasn’t afraid.”
“And?”
“My mother answered…”
Marcus looked directly at me.
May you like
“‘Then find something he is afraid to lose.’”
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