“Then forty-nine percent goes back.”
Nobody moved.
Clare stared at him as though he had begun speaking another language.
“You don’t have to—”
“Yes.”
Nathan laughed from the floor.
“You’re insane.”
“Possibly.”
Dominic looked at Vincent.
“The hidden restitution funds?”
“Intact.”
“Return everything that can be connected to Lorenzo’s operations.”
Vincent nodded slowly.
“And the legitimate holdings?”
Dominic looked toward Clare.
“Tomorrow, independent attorneys will authenticate the partnership documents. If Elias Rowan’s ownership was stolen, his heirs receive what the law says belongs to them.”
Clare began crying.
“I don’t want your empire.”
Dominic’s answer came quietly.
“It was never entirely mine.”
8
Police arrived before midnight.
Not Vale police.
Not friendly officers.
Federal investigators.
Vincent had contacted them through a sealed channel weeks earlier after tracing portions of the old network.
Mercer and Nathan were taken into custody.
Angela Pierce agreed to cooperate.
The surviving conspirators in the council were identified one by one through the files on the thumb drive.
Two had participated knowingly.
Three had been manipulated.
One had been preparing to betray both sides and flee the country.
Arthur remained in the great room after everyone else left.
He looked suddenly older.
Dominic stood near the windows.
“You knew about the Rowan shares.”
Arthur nodded.
“For years?”
“Yes.”
“And never told me.”
“I was ashamed.”
“That wasn’t your decision to make.”
“No.”
Dominic stared at the rain.
“Why call the council vote?”
Arthur approached.
“Because I knew something was happening to you. I believed removing you temporarily might keep you alive.”
“By taking my position?”
“I didn’t want your position.”
Dominic turned.
Arthur’s face was exhausted.
“I wanted time.”
“For what?”
“To find the truth.”
Dominic studied him.
“You could have trusted me.”
Arthur smiled sadly.
“Your father said the same thing once.”
Dominic flinched.
Arthur looked toward the hallway where Clare and Ellie had gone upstairs.
“Then Thomas Rowan trusted me.”
His voice broke.
“And he died.”
Dominic understood.
Arthur hadn’t been smiling through the glass because he expected victory.
He had been smiling because he believed Dominic was about to sign papers that would move him out of danger.
Wrong.
Manipulative.
But not treason.
Dominic held out his hand.
Arthur stared at it.
“You’re firing me?”
“Yes.”
Arthur laughed.
Then took the hand.
“Fair.”
Dominic pulled him closer.
“You’re also testifying.”
Arthur’s smile vanished.
“Less fair.”
“For Thomas.”
Arthur looked upstairs.
Then nodded.
“For Thomas.”
Three weeks later, Dominic entered the rehabilitation room without his cane.
Clare was changing linens in the adjacent room.
Ellie sat on the floor building an impossible structure from wooden blocks.
Dominic took another step.
Then another.
The poisoning had not caused permanent damage.
Neither had the brace.
Recovery would take months.
But his doctors now believed he would walk normally again.
Ellie looked up.
“You forgot your stick.”
“I don’t need it today.”
She considered this.
“Good.”
Dominic smiled.
That was apparently all the praise he was getting.
He sat beside her.
“I have something for you.”
From his pocket he removed a small wooden box.
Ellie opened it.
Inside were latches.
Tiny wheels.
Brass hinges.
Keys.
Locks.
A miniature mechanism board far more elaborate than the battered toy she carried everywhere.
Her eyes widened.
“For me?”
“For you.”
“Why?”
“Because you noticed something everybody else missed.”
She touched one brass latch.
Then looked at him seriously.
“It was backward.”
Dominic laughed.
“Yes.”
She frowned.
“You’re supposed to put things the right way.”
The laughter disappeared.
Dominic looked toward the window.
“Yes,” he said.
“You are.”
Clare entered.
“Ellie, lunch.”
Then she noticed the box.
“Mr. Vale…”
“It’s Dominic.”
She still wasn’t comfortable using his first name.
The ownership investigation had already confirmed the truth.
