CHAPTER 10
WHAT SHE KEPT
The blood was not Naomi's.
At least, Adrian could not confirm that yet.
Mara sat in the passenger seat as they drove back toward the secured apartment, one hand wrapped around her phone, the other gripping the strap of her bag.
She had barely spoken since Marcus's call.
Adrian hadn't either.
The silence between them wasn't uncomfortable.
It was concentrated.
Both of them were thinking.
Naomi was missing.
Someone had entered her apartment.
There was blood.
And the ledger was still somewhere.
Mara stared through the windshield.
"Do you think she's alive?"
Adrian kept his eyes on the road.
"I think we don't have evidence that she's dead."
"That's not what I asked."
"I know."
She looked at him.
"Then answer me."
He was quiet for several seconds.
"Yes."
Mara swallowed.
"Why?"
"Because if they wanted her dead, they wouldn't have left evidence pointing toward her disappearance."
She considered that.
"That's comforting."
"It isn't meant to be."
"You're terrible at this."
"At what?"
"Comforting people."
"I know."
She looked back out the window.
The city moved past in streaks of wet light.
Neither spoke again until they reached the Gold Coast apartment.
Adrian parked underground.
He checked the garage before allowing Mara out.
She noticed he was more alert than before.
His attention moved constantly.
Entrance.
Elevator.
Vehicles.
Corners.
Mara stayed close.
Inside the apartment, Adrian locked the door.
Then checked it again.
Mara dropped her bag onto the kitchen counter.
"What now?"
"We review everything Naomi sent you."
"We already did."
"Not everything."
She frowned.
"What did we miss?"
"I don't know yet."
He took out his laptop.
Mara opened hers.
They sat at the dining table.
For nearly an hour, they went through messages, documents, audio files, photographs, notes.
Nothing.
Mara leaned back.
"I've looked at these a hundred times."
"Look again."
She gave him a tired look.
"You really know how to motivate someone."
"You're good at finding things other people miss."
"That's your version of encouragement?"
"Yes."
She smiled.
"Fine."
They continued.
Mara opened an old folder.
It contained photographs of documents Naomi had photographed during her research.
She enlarged one.
Bank transfers.
Another.
Corporate filings.
Another.
A scanned invoice.
Nothing.
Then she saw it.
A handwritten note in the corner of one photograph.
Mara zoomed in.
E.F.
She frowned.
"What's that?"
Adrian leaned closer.
"I don't know."
"Ellison Financial?"
"Maybe."
Mara opened the original image.
There was another note beneath it.
A number.
She typed it into her search system.
Nothing.
She tried it against Naomi's files.
A match appeared.
Mara sat up.
"Here."
Adrian looked.
The number appeared beside an old transaction.
"Date?"
"Eleven years ago."
"Before your father's company collapsed."
Mara nodded.
She opened the surrounding records.
The transaction had been made from an account belonging to Ellison Financial.
Recipient?
Unknown.
Amount?
Large.
Description?
Blank.
Mara stared.
"This is it."
"Maybe."
She looked at him.
"Don't."
He almost smiled.
"Sorry."
She opened more files.
The same account appeared six times over eighteen months.
Different amounts.
Different recipients.
All connected to companies now associated with Voss.
Mara felt the room shift around her.
"My father was involved."
Adrian said nothing.
"Maybe not in the way they claimed."
"No."
She looked at him.
"You don't think he stole the money."
"I think we need more evidence."
"That's what you always say."
"It's what keeps us from making mistakes."
Mara looked back at the screen.
She wanted to believe her father had been framed.
But she couldn't.
Not yet.
She had spent years protecting herself from that possibility because it was easier to think he had simply abandoned them.
A selfish man.
A coward.
Someone who chose escape.
But if he had tried to expose something...
If he had known...
Mara shook her head.
"No."
Adrian looked at her.
"What?"
"I can't do this right now."
He closed the laptop.
"Then don't."
She looked at him.
He didn't ask her to explain.
Didn't tell her to calm down.
Didn't insist.
He simply sat there.
Mara appreciated it more than she wanted to admit.
After several minutes, she reopened the laptop.
"Okay."
Adrian looked at her.
"Okay?"
"I want to keep going."
He nodded.
They worked until the room grew quiet.
Outside, the rain had stopped.
The city lights reflected against the windows.
Mara rubbed her eyes.
"Do you ever get tired?"
"Yes."
"You don't show it."
"That's different."
She looked at him.
"Why?"
"Because people rely on me."
She smiled faintly.
"Again."
"What?"
"You and responsibility."
"It matters."
"I know."
She studied him.
"You've never told me what happened to the girl."
His expression changed.
"What girl?"
"The one you were protecting."
He looked toward the window.
Mara waited.
"I haven't talked about it in a long time."
"You don't have to."
"I know."
He remained quiet.
Then he said, "Her name was Emily."
Mara said nothing.
"She was sixteen."
Adrian's voice was even.
Too even.
"Her father had received threats. We thought the threat was aimed at him."
"It wasn't."
"No."
He looked down.
"It was aimed at her."
Mara listened.
"She survived."
"Yes."
"But you still blame yourself."
"Yes."
"Why?"
"Because she trusted me to see the danger before she did."
Mara's throat tightened.
"Adrian."
He looked at her.
"You couldn't know."
"I should have."
"You were working with bad information."
"I should have questioned it."
She understood then.
His obsession with information wasn't simply professional.
It was punishment.
He had turned preparation into a form of penance.
Mara reached across the table.
She stopped before touching him.
His eyes dropped to her hand.
Then back to her face.
She withdrew it.
"I don't think you failed her."
His jaw tightened.
"You don't know what happened."
"No."
"But I know what it feels like to blame yourself for someone else's choices."
He studied her.
"Your father."
"Yes."
She looked down.
"I spent years thinking if I'd been smarter, maybe he'd have stayed."
Adrian's expression softened.
"You were fifteen."
"I know that now."
"And then?"
"I didn't know it then."
He didn't argue.
Mara looked at him.
"Maybe that's why I hate depending on people."
"Maybe."
She laughed quietly.
"We're a disaster."
"Probably."
She smiled.
Then her eyes fell on the notebook beside her.
She froze.
Adrian noticed.
"What?"
"I've seen this before."
She opened the notebook.
A page near the back.
A list of names.
A date.
An account number.
She flipped another page.
Nothing.
Then she turned back.
There.
A small notation written in her own handwriting.
Original documents in old box.
Mara stared.
"What old box?"
She searched her memory.
Then remembered.
"My father."
Adrian leaned forward.
"Where?"
"At my apartment."
"No."
She looked at him.
"I know."
"We're not going back tonight."
"I wasn't going to say tonight."
"Good."
She smiled.
"You're getting predictable."
"That's not good."
"No."
She looked at the notebook again.
"Tomorrow."
"We'll assess it first."
Mara nodded.
She closed the notebook.
The room went quiet again.
Adrian stood.
"I'm making dinner."
Mara blinked.
"You cook?"
"Yes."
"Really?"
"Really."
"Why didn't you tell me?"
"You didn't ask."
"You're impossible."
He walked into the kitchen.
Mara followed.
"What are you making?"
"Pasta."
"That's acceptable."
"You sound disappointed."
"I expected something more complicated."
"You've had coffee for dinner before."
"That's different."
"How?"
"It has caffeine."
He looked at her.
She smiled.
For the first time that night, the tension eased.
Adrian cooked.
Mara sat at the counter and watched him.
He moved with the same precision he used for everything else.
Knife.
Pan.
Seasoning.
No wasted motion.
"You measure everything?"
"Usually."
"Of course."
She watched him.
"You know, you could be normal."
"No."
She laughed.
Dinner was simple.
Warm.
Quiet.
Almost ordinary.
Mara found herself forgetting about the threat for several minutes.
Afterward, she stood at the sink.
Adrian took the plate from her.
"I'll do it."
"I can wash dishes."
"I know."
"Then stop taking things from me."
He paused.
"Fair."
He handed the plate back.
Mara smiled.
"Thank you."
They stood beside each other at the sink.
Their shoulders nearly touched.
Neither moved.
The air changed.
Mara looked at him.
Adrian looked back.
There was no camera.
No threat.
No urgent phone call.
Just the two of them.
His gaze dropped briefly to her mouth.
Mara noticed.
He noticed that she noticed.
Neither spoke.
She stepped closer.
Barely.
Adrian's hand settled against the counter beside her.
Not touching.
But close.
"Mara."
His voice was quieter.
"What?"
"This isn't a good idea."
"I know."
"We can't."
"I know."
He looked at her.
"You're my client."
"I know."
His jaw tightened.
"And I'm older than you."
"Thirteen years."
"Yes."
"You counted."
"I remember details."
She almost smiled.
Then he stepped back.
The distance returned.
Professional.
Necessary.
Mara looked down.
"Right."
Adrian picked up his phone.
"I'll take the chair tonight."
She looked toward the living room.
"You don't have to."
"I do."
"Because you're protecting me?"
"Yes."
She nodded.
"Goodnight, Adrian."
"Goodnight."
Mara walked toward the bedroom.
At the door, she stopped.
She looked back.
He was already sitting in the chair.
Exactly where he had been the night before.
Guarding the door.
Only now, the lock felt different.
Not because she was trapped.
Because she knew what stood on the other side.
A man who had made himself responsible for her safety.
A man she was beginning to want for reasons that had nothing to do with safety.
Mara closed the bedroom door.
She stood there for several seconds.
Then she whispered to herself.
"This is a terrible idea."
From the living room came Adrian's voice.
"I heard that."
Mara's eyes widened.
She laughed despite herself.
"Goodnight."
"Goodnight."
She climbed into bed.
But sleep didn't come easily.
Because now she knew there was something from her father's past hidden in an old box in her apartment.
Something Naomi had been searching for.
Something Voss wanted buried.
And something that might explain why a woman had disappeared.
Mara stared into the darkness.
Then she remembered Adrian's eyes on her in the kitchen.
She pulled the blanket higher.
The danger outside was frightening.
The feelings growing inside this apartment were worse.
Because for the first time, Mara wasn't afraid of being alone.
She was afraid of wanting someone enough to stop being alone.