Chapter 7: The Man Who Knew Michael
By the time we reached Pacific Ember, the police were already outside.
Red and blue lights reflected against the glass walls of the headquarters.
Employees stood on the sidewalk.
Mara was waiting near the entrance.
She rushed toward me.
“They didn't steal computers.””
“What did they take?””
“Nothing obvious.””
“Then why did they break in?””
“They went straight to the archives.””
My stomach tightened.
“Which archives?””
“The old property records.””
I looked at Daniel.
He understood immediately.
“The drawings.””
“Yes.””
We entered through the security doors.
The building smelled of dust and burned circuitry.
A security guard led us downstairs.
The archive room was open.
Cabinet drawers had been pulled out.
Folders were scattered across the floor.
But one drawer was empty.
Mara pointed.
“That one.””
I walked closer.
The label read:
*HARBOR POINT — ORIGINAL ACQUISITION RECORDS*
“They knew exactly what they wanted.””
A voice behind me said, “Of course they did.””
I turned.
An elderly man stood at the end of the hallway.
Gray hair.
Round glasses.
A brown coat.
I recognized him from the photographs.
Samuel Reed.
The original architect.
He looked at me.
“Isabelle Romero?””
“Yes.””
“I've been waiting a long time to meet you.””
Daniel stepped forward.
“Who are you?””
Samuel smiled faintly.
“Someone your father trusted.””
My heart tightened.
“You knew Michael?””
“I did.””
“Did he live?””
Samuel's eyes dropped.
“Yes.””
“When?””
“After he left you.””
“How long?””
Samuel hesitated.
“Long enough.””
“That's not an answer.””
“No.””
He looked around.
“Not here.””
Mara locked the archive door.
“We're alone.””
Samuel shook his head.
“No place is safe anymore.””
He reached into his coat.
I instinctively stepped back.
He removed a small notebook.
“This belonged to Michael.””
He handed it to me.
I opened it.
The pages were filled with numbers.
Property addresses.
Dates.
Names.
And one phrase repeated again and again.
*PROJECT ORCHID.*
“What is Project Orchid?””
Samuel looked at Daniel.
“Your father called it a contingency.””
“For what?””
“For the day Richard Holloway decided to erase him.””
Daniel's face hardened.
“Why would Richard want him dead?””
Samuel didn't answer.
I did.
“Because Michael knew where the money was.””
Samuel nodded.
“Partly.””
“What's the other part?””
Samuel looked directly at me.
“Your company.””
I frowned.
“My company didn't exist.””
“Not then.””
He opened the notebook to a page near the back.
There was a list of property parcels.
Pacific Ember.
Harbor Point.
Bellweather.
Three other developments.
I recognized every address.
They were some of Romero Urban Design's most valuable properties.
Samuel tapped the page.
“These weren't random investments.””
“What were they?””
“Pieces of a trust.””
I stared at him.
“A trust?””
“Michael created it before he disappeared.””
“For whom?””
Samuel's eyes moved to Daniel.
“For his son.””
Daniel stepped backward.
“Me?””
“Yes.””
I laughed in disbelief.
“My husband had no money when he died.””
Samuel's expression softened.
“That is what Richard wanted everyone to believe.””
“Then where did the money come from?””
“Your company.””
I went still.
Samuel explained.
“Michael placed several properties into structures controlled by you without telling you. When you built Romero Urban Design, the company became the legal vehicle protecting those assets.””
I shook my head.
“That makes no sense.””
“It will.””
He handed me another document.
A transfer agreement.
My signature appeared at the bottom.
Again.
Forged.
“This was created later,” I said.
“Yes.””
“By Richard?””
“Not directly.””
“Then who?””
Samuel looked at Daniel.
“Someone inside your family.””
Daniel's face went pale.
“My family?””
Samuel nodded.
“Someone who had access to your mother's private records.””
I thought about my office.
My old home.
Michael's files.
Then I remembered.
“Evan.””
Mara shook her head.
“Evan only accessed the recent transfers.””
Samuel said quietly, “I'm not talking about Evan.””
He opened the notebook.
A name was written in the margin.
*Elena Romero.*
My sister.
I stopped breathing.
“Elena died fifteen years ago.””
Samuel nodded.
“I know.””
“Then why is her name here?””
He looked at me.
“Because she wasn't working for Richard.””
I frowned.
“What?””
“She was working for Michael.””
Daniel looked confused.
“Your mother never told me she had a sister.””
I stared at him.
“I did.””
He shook his head.
“No. You never did.””
I looked at Samuel.
“Elena was my older sister.””
“I know.””
“She disappeared after my mother's funeral.””
“I know.””
“She refused to speak to me.””
“I know.””
“Then what does she have to do with Michael?””
Samuel sighed.
“Everything.””
He pulled out a photograph.
Elena stood beside Michael.
They were both younger.
Behind them was a construction site.
I recognized the location.
Harbor Point.
On the back was a date.
The day before Michael left.
My hands shook.
“Why were they together?””
Samuel answered quietly.
“Because Elena discovered Richard had ordered someone to kill Michael.””
Daniel's face drained of color.
“Did he succeed?””
“No.””
“Then why did Dad disappear?””
Samuel looked at me.
“Because Michael believed the only way to keep you and Daniel alive was to make everyone think he was dead.””
I closed my eyes.
Twenty-three years.
The story I had lived with was collapsing piece by piece.
Then Samuel said, “But Michael made one mistake.””
“What?””
“He trusted someone he shouldn't have.””
“Who?””
Samuel looked toward the hallway.
Before he could answer, the lights went out.
Daniel grabbed my arm.
“Mom.””
Emergency lights flickered red.
A crash came from upstairs.
Then another.
Mara whispered, “Someone's in the building.””
Samuel grabbed my wrist.
“We have to go.””
“Who?””
“The person who has been cleaning up Michael's trail.””
We ran.
Footsteps thundered above us.
Someone shouted.
A door slammed.
We reached the underground parking garage.
Samuel stopped beside a black SUV.
“Get in.””
I looked at him.
“You said no place was safe.””
“They found us.””
Daniel opened the rear door.
I turned.
A figure appeared at the far end of the garage.
Tall.
Dark coat.
Walking toward us.
Samuel whispered one name.
“Richard.””
The man stepped into the light.
It wasn't Richard.
It was someone much younger.
Someone I knew.
Someone I had trusted for years.
Mara gasped.
“Thomas?””
My general counsel stopped.
He looked at me.
Then at Samuel.
And smiled.
“I'm sorry, Isabelle.””
May you like
He raised a folder.
“But you were never supposed to find this.””
