“Yesterday it had a scratch.”

Clare whispered, “Ellie…”

But Dominic remembered.

Two weeks earlier he had struggled to open the bottle after therapy and scraped the cap against the metal edge of the table.

A long white mark.

This cap was perfect.

Mercer poured the tablets into his palm.

His expression changed.

“These aren’t the tablets I prescribed.”

Vincent whispered a curse.

Mercer snapped one tablet in half.

Different interior.

Different coating.

Dominic stared at the pills.

Every evening for nearly a month, he had swallowed one.

His eyes moved toward Vincent.

Vincent shook his head.

“Medication is handled by medical staff.”

Mercer said, “And delivered from the pharmacy through estate security.”

Arthur gave a humorless laugh.

“There it is.”

Vincent turned.

“Say what you mean.”

“I mean every road keeps coming back to you.”

Vincent stepped toward him.

Dominic slammed his cane against the floor.

“Enough.”

He looked at Clare.

“How long have you worked here?”

“Seven months.”

“Who hired you?”

“The estate manager.”

“Who approved the hiring?”

She swallowed.

“Mr. Hale.”

Vincent looked at Dominic.

“We approve every employee.”

“Background checks?”

“Yes.”

“Her husband?”

Clare stiffened.

Vincent’s expression changed.

Dominic noticed.

“What about her husband?”

Clare looked between them.

“My husband is dead.”

Dominic turned slowly.

“Name.”

“Thomas Rowan.”

Vincent closed his eyes.

Arthur whispered, “Jesus.”

Dominic looked at him.

“What?”

Arthur stared at Clare.

“Thomas Rowan worked for Vale Maritime.”

Clare nodded.

“He was a maintenance supervisor.”

Dominic remembered.

A warehouse accident two years earlier.

A fall from an elevated service platform.

He had signed the compensation authorization himself.

Clare’s eyes filled.

“You remember now.”

“Yes.”

“They called it an accident.”

Dominic felt Arthur watching him.

Clare’s voice trembled.

“Was it?”

Dominic didn’t know.

Then Arthur said the words nobody expected.

“No.”

Clare turned toward him.

Arthur’s face had gone gray.

“Thomas Rowan didn’t fall.”

Dominic stared.

“How do you know?”

Arthur looked at Vincent.

“Because he came to me three days before he died.”

Vincent’s expression changed.

Only slightly.

But Dominic saw it.

Arthur continued.

“Thomas found discrepancies in shipping manifests. Containers entered Vale facilities under legitimate contracts, then disappeared from the internal system.”

Dominic’s pulse quickened.

“What was inside?”

“Money.”

“Whose?”

“Yours.”

Vincent laughed.

“That makes no sense.”

Arthur looked at Dominic.

“Over eight years, almost one hundred and eighty million dollars was siphoned through shell contractors.”

Dominic felt as though the floor had shifted.

“Who controlled the contractors?”

Arthur said nothing.

He didn’t need to.

Dominic looked at Vincent.

His oldest friend.

His protector.

His brother in everything except blood.

Vincent’s face went completely still.

Then, unexpectedly, he smiled.

Not broadly.

Not cruelly.

Almost sadly.

“Finally,” he said.

“We’re talking about the right crime.”

5

Clare pulled Ellie behind her.

Arthur raised his gun.

Vincent didn’t move.

Dominic stared at him.

“Tell me he’s wrong.”

Vincent looked at the ceiling as if gathering patience.

“Arthur isn’t wrong.”

The admission struck harder than Dominic expected.

Clare made a small sound.

Dominic tightened his hand around the cane.

“You stole from me.”

“No.”

“One hundred eighty million dollars disappeared.”

“Yes.”

“Through security-controlled shipping channels.”

“Yes.”

“And you knew.”

Vincent nodded.

“Every dollar.”

Arthur cocked the revolver.

Vincent ignored him.

Dominic’s voice became deadly quiet.

“Then explain.”

Vincent looked toward Clare.

“Your husband discovered the accounts.”

Clare’s face twisted.

“Did you kill him?”

“No.”

“Did you know who did?”

“Yes.”

“Who?”

Vincent looked directly at Arthur.

Arthur froze.

“Don’t,” Arthur said.

Vincent smiled bitterly.

“There’s your patient old statesman, Dominic.”

Arthur raised the gun.

Vincent continued.

“Ask him where Thomas Rowan met him three nights before he died.”

Arthur said, “He’s lying.”

“Ask him.”

Dominic looked at Arthur.

“Where?”

Arthur hesitated.