Chapter 4 - THE LOCKET
Robert froze.
The distinguished, gray-haired attorney had been packing his briefcase to leave.
His hands stopped midway through snapping the latches.
Thirty pairs of eyes turned toward him.
“I... I don't know what you're talking about, Arthur,” Robert stammered.
Arthur walked down the length of the table.
He dropped the boarding pass onto Robert’s plate.
“Flight 408. Departing tonight at 11:30 PM. From Port Columbus to Grand Cayman. Paid for by a corporate card belonging to Juniper Development Holdings.”
Arthur leaned down, placing both hands on the table.
“Why is Christopher Hale funding your escape to a tax haven, Robert?”
Robert swallowed. A bead of sweat rolled down his temple.
“Arthur, this is a misunderstanding. I was going on vacation—”
“You authorized the wire transfer,” Madison said suddenly, her voice cutting through the tension.
She stepped forward, her green dress swishing.
“Chris needed a second signature to move Mom’s memorial fund. I never signed it. But as the trust attorney, you have emergency signatory power.”
Madison pointed at him.
“You gave my husband my mother’s money.”
Robert looked around the room, desperate.
He lunged for the door.
But I was already standing there.
I am not a large man, but I have spent twenty years carrying heavy trays and breaking up late-night bar fights in hotel lounges.
I didn't move an inch.
Robert crashed into me, and I grabbed him by the shoulders, shoving him firmly back into the room.
“Sit down, sir,” I said quietly.
Robert stumbled back into a chair.
He put his head in his hands.
“He promised me two million,” Robert whispered.
Arthur’s face tightened with betrayal.
“Why, Robert? I pay you handsomely. We’ve been friends for two decades.”
Robert looked up, his eyes red.
“Because your affordable housing empire is a house of cards, Arthur! You give away too much. You charge too little for rent. You cover maintenance costs out of pocket. The holding company is drowning in debt!”
Robert laughed bitterly.
“When Chris approached me, he showed me the margins. We were going bankrupt in six months anyway. I took his deal to save my own retirement before your ship sank.”
Arthur stood perfectly straight.
“You sold out my daughter's legacy because you lacked faith in my business.”
“I was being practical!” Robert yelled.
Suddenly, a loud knock echoed from the heavy banquet doors.
I turned.
“Dad?” a small voice called out.
My heart stopped.
I opened the door a crack.
Standing in the hallway was my twelve-year-old son, Leo.
He was supposed to be waiting in the employee breakroom until my shift ended.
“Leo, what are you doing here?” I hissed softly. “I told you to stay put.”
Leo looked terrified, but he pushed the door wider.
“Dad, I was in the lobby,” he said, his voice trembling but clear enough for the room to hear. “I saw that guy from your party.”
“Christopher?” I asked.
Leo nodded.
“He was yelling at a lady near the valet. He grabbed her arm really hard. And when she pulled away, she dropped this.”
Leo held out his small hand.
Resting in his palm was a silver locket.
It was shaped like a teardrop, heavily tarnished with age.
I heard a sharp gasp from behind me.
Arthur Bennett pushed past his guests and fell to his knees in front of my son.
His hands were shaking violently.
He took the locket from Leo.
“Where did you get this?” Arthur whispered, tears finally spilling from his eyes.
“The lady dropped it,” Leo repeated.
Arthur looked up at Madison.
“Maddie,” he choked out. “This is your mother’s locket. The one she was wearing the day she died in the car accident.”
Madison ran over, falling to her knees beside her grandfather.
She stared at the necklace.
“The police said it was lost in the crash,” she whispered.
Arthur stood up, gripping the locket so hard his knuckles turned white.
He looked at Robert, who was now trembling in his chair.
“Who was Christopher meeting in the lobby, Robert?” Arthur demanded, his voice echoing like thunder.
Robert shook his head. “I don’t know—”
“WHO WAS HE MEETING?”
“Her name is Elena!” Robert cried out. “Elena Rostova! She’s the contractor for the demolition! She’s the one pulling down Nora’s House tonight!”
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Arthur turned to me.
“Michael,” he said, his eyes blazing with a fierce, terrifying light. “Get your coat.”
