“That's impossible.”
Richard's expression became serious.
The elevator stopped at forty-eight.
The doors opened.
Nobody spoke.
The forty-eighth floor was supposed to be locked.
It had been unused for almost a decade.
Richard stepped out.
Dust covered the hallway.
Old office furniture sat beneath plastic sheets.
But there were fresh footprints on the floor.
Several pairs.
Someone had been using the floor recently.
Daniel looked at Richard.
“Sir…”
Richard raised one finger.
Silence.
They moved slowly down the hallway.
At the end was a glass office.
The door was slightly open.
Inside, a computer screen was glowing.
Richard approached.
The screen displayed a security feed.
He looked at it.
His own office appeared on the monitor.
Margaret froze.
“They've been watching us.”
Richard stared at the screen.
Another monitor showed the lobby.
Another showed the executive elevator.
Another showed the loading dock.
And another showed the service elevator.
Daniel stepped backward.
“This isn't possible.”
Richard looked at him.
“Why?”
“This system isn't connected to ours.”
Richard's eyes remained fixed on the screens.
“Exactly.”
Then something appeared on the center monitor.
A live image of Richard, Margaret, and Daniel standing in the room.
Someone was watching them right now.
Richard slowly turned toward the camera mounted above the monitor.
“Whoever you are,” he said, “you've made a mistake.”
The monitor flickered.
A message appeared.
YOU SHOULD HAVE LEFT THE LOBBY.
Margaret stepped closer.
“What does that mean?”
Richard didn't answer.
Another message appeared.
THE MAN WHO STOPPED YOU WASN'T THE TARGET.
Richard's eyes narrowed.
Then the final message appeared.
YOU WERE.
The screens went black.
At that exact moment, the building's lights went out.
Margaret gasped.
Daniel reached for his radio.
Nothing.
No signal.
Richard stood completely still in the darkness.
Then they heard footsteps.
Coming from the hallway.
Slow.
Measured.
Getting closer.
Richard whispered,
“Don't move.”
The footsteps stopped outside the door.
Someone was standing there.
Then a man's voice came through the darkness.
“Mr. Bennett.”
Richard recognized it immediately.
Victor Hale.
“You should have listened to me.”
Richard looked toward the doorway.
“Victor?”
No answer.
Then the emergency lights flickered on.
The hallway was empty.
Victor was gone.
But on the floor outside the office was a black leather folder.
Richard walked toward it.
He picked it up.
Inside were dozens of documents.
Financial records.
Security reports.
Internal emails.
And one photograph.
Richard pulled it out.
His hands stopped moving.
The photograph showed a younger Richard Bennett standing beside his father outside the company's first factory.
Written across the bottom in red ink were six words:
YOUR FATHER KNEW THIS WOULD HAPPEN.
Richard stared at the photograph.
For the first time in twenty-six years, he felt something he had almost forgotten.
Fear.
Not for himself.
For the company.
For the people who trusted him.
And most of all, for the secret his father had apparently taken to the grave.
A secret that someone was now willing to expose.
Or kill for.
Richard closed the folder.
“Margaret.”
“Yes?”
“Get everyone we trust out of this building.”
She stared at him.
“What about you?”
Richard looked toward the dark hallway.
“I'm staying.”
“Richard—”
He turned to her.
“Someone spent years building this.”
He held up the folder.
“And today, they made the mistake of letting me find it.”
Richard's expression hardened.
“Now it's my turn to find them.”
Outside, somewhere below them, a security alarm suddenly began to scream.
And on the forty-eighth floor, the three of them realized they were no longer investigating a strange incident.
They had become part of it.
Chapter 5
“Looks like it.”
“Can you disable it?”
Daniel hesitated.
“Yes.”
“Do it.”
Daniel removed the device.
The small red light disappeared.
For the first time since they entered the upper floors, Richard felt the pressure in his chest ease slightly.
Then his phone vibrated.
He pulled it from his pocket.
Unknown number.
One message.
You shouldn't have touched that.
Richard stared at the screen.
Margaret saw his expression.
“What is it?”
Richard showed her.
She looked frightened.
“They know.”
Richard nodded.
“They always knew.”
He typed a response.
Who are you?
The reply came almost instantly.
Ask your father's old partner.
Richard froze.
Margaret looked at him.
“Your father's partner?”
Richard slowly lowered the phone.
“My father didn't have a partner.”
Daniel looked confused.
“Are you sure?”
Richard nodded.
“My father built the company himself.”
“That isn't what the message says.”
“I know.”
Richard stared at the screen.
For years, he had believed he knew every important detail about his father's history.
His father, Samuel Bennett, had been a quiet man.
A mechanical engineer.
A businessman who had started with almost nothing.
He had taught Richard three principles.
Never promise what you cannot deliver.
Never underestimate the person sitting across from you.
And never build a business you would be ashamed to put your name on.
Samuel had died twelve years earlier.
Before his death, he had never mentioned a partner.
Not once.
Richard had always assumed there simply wasn't one.
But the photograph from the folder showed otherwise.
His father had known something.
And someone was now trying to force Richard to discover it.
“Let's go back to my office,” Richard said.
They returned to the executive floor.
By then, the power had been restored.
The building had returned to normal.
Employees were moving through the corridors again.
Phones were ringing.
Doors were opening.
The entire incident had apparently lasted less than ten minutes.
But Richard knew better.
Someone had deliberately shut down the building.
Someone had monitored them.
Someone had left the folder.
And someone had been waiting for Richard to react.
When they entered his office, Margaret immediately locked the door.
Richard placed the folder on the desk.
“Let's see what's inside.”
They spread the documents across the table.
The first pages were financial reports.
Nothing unusual.
Then came internal correspondence.
Richard recognized several names.
Executives.
Former employees.
Outside consultants.
Some had left the company years ago.
Others still worked there.
Margaret picked up a document.
“Look at this.”
Richard read it.
It was a transfer record from fifteen years earlier.
A large amount of money had been moved from a Whitmore subsidiary into a private holding company.
The transaction had been approved by someone named Elias Ward.
Richard frowned.
“Who is Elias Ward?”
Margaret shook her head.
“I've never heard of him.”
Daniel looked over.
“Neither have I.”
Richard continued reading.
The holding company was called Northbridge Capital.
Richard recognized the name.
It had appeared in an old lawsuit involving Whitmore nearly twenty years ago.
But the case had disappeared from the company's records.
He pulled out another document.
There it was.
A legal settlement.
The company had paid Northbridge Capital nearly twelve million dollars.
Margaret stared at the number.
“Why?”
Richard kept reading.
The explanation had been blacked out.
“Who redacted this?”
“No idea.”
Richard flipped to another page.
Another transaction.
Then another.
Millions of dollars had moved through companies Richard had never heard of.
All of them connected to Northbridge Capital.
Margaret looked at him.
“Richard, this is enormous.”
“Yes.”
“Do you think your father knew?”
Richard looked at the photograph.
“I think he did.”
Daniel pointed toward another document.
“What about this?”
Richard took it.
It was a personnel file.
The name at the top made him stop.
Victor Hale.
Richard read the first line.
Then the second.
Then the third.
His expression changed.
Margaret noticed.
“What?”
Richard handed her the file.
She read it.
“Victor worked here?”