Chapter 9 - THE WOMAN IN THE RED COAT
Security eventually cleared the building.
No one had been killed.
But someone had escaped through the underground garage.
The police arrived.
Daniel refused to leave Clare's side.
Then a detective entered the conference room.
"Mr. Mercer."
Daniel stood.
"Detective."
"We found this."
The detective placed a red scarf on the table.
Clare recognized it.
"I've seen that."
"Where?"
"At the diner."
Daniel looked at her.
"Thanksgiving?"
She nodded.
"There was a woman sitting near the window."
"What did she look like?"
"Forties. Dark hair. Red coat."
The detective exchanged a glance with Daniel.
"We have surveillance footage."
They watched.
The woman had entered the diner shortly before Daniel.
She had sat three tables away.
She had watched Clare.
She had watched Lily.
Then she had followed Daniel outside.
Clare whispered:
"She was watching us."
Daniel nodded.
The detective paused the video.
"There's something else."
He zoomed in.
The woman was speaking to someone outside.
A man.
Victor Hale.
Daniel went still.
"No."
Clare looked at him.
"Your CFO."
Daniel's jaw clenched.
"Victor."
The detective nodded.
"We've been investigating him for months."
"Why didn't you tell me?"
"Because we didn't have enough."
Daniel stared at the footage.
Then his phone rang.
Victor.
Daniel answered.
"Where are you?"
Victor's voice was strangely calm.
"Home."
"Stay there."
A pause.
"Daniel."
"What?"
"You shouldn't have opened that file."
Daniel's blood ran cold.
"How do you know about the file?"
Victor laughed quietly.
"Because I created it."
The call ended.
Daniel immediately called security.
"Find Victor Hale."
Then another message appeared on his phone.
A photograph.
Lily asleep in the guesthouse.
Taken from inside the room.
Underneath it were five words:
YOU SHOULD HAVE LEFT HER ALONE.
Clare saw the picture.
Her knees nearly gave out.
Daniel caught her.
For the first time, she stopped resisting his protection.
She buried her face against his chest.
Daniel held her tightly.
May you like
And quietly made a promise.
"Nobody touches your daughter."
