CHAPTER 5 #3
“He profited from both the secret diagnosis and the false clearance,” Olivia said.
“And when Evan died,” Ben added, “he blamed the Titans.”
“Both can be guilty.”
Luke nodded. “There are payments to three other people. Initials only.”
One set read S.V.
Stephen Vale, perhaps. Another read G.M.
Gerard Mills.
The third read R.C.
Robert Carter.
Olivia stared at her father’s initials.
Ben said nothing.
Luke’s expression remained neutral, but his body shifted closer to the door as if preparing to protect her from a threat located inside the paper.
“We verify,” Olivia said.
Her voice sounded like someone else’s.
They requested archived bank records through a legal contact. Luke’s family apparently owned part of a financial-services firm, a fact he revealed without elaboration. Ben began cross-referencing dates with game and camp schedules.
At three, Alex entered after practice. His hair was damp, and a fresh abrasion marked his neck where a stick had caught him.
He saw the initials immediately.
“Robert,” he said.
“Possibly,” Olivia replied.
“You do not believe in coincidence.”
“I believe in evidence.”
“He threatened Ben’s scholarship after I asked about the camp.”
“And Parker may have designed the payment to frame him.”
Alex looked at her. “You are protecting your father.”
The accusation struck harder because she feared it was true.
“I am protecting the investigation from our assumptions.”
“Would you offer me the same caution?”
She held his gaze. “I am.”
The words surprised him.
Olivia pointed to the photograph of young Alex beside Evan. “Ben remembers Evan helping after your father attacked you.”
Alex went still.
A flicker of memory crossed his face. “He brought ice.”
Ben nodded. “And lied to the trainer, said you fell.”
Alex sat slowly.
“He knew about Dad.”
“He knew enough.”
The room changed around the recovered memory. Alex looked down at Evan’s initials as though guilt had acquired a face.
“I should have remembered him,” he said.
“Trauma does not organize itself for convenience,” Olivia replied.
His gaze lifted to hers.
Something unguarded moved between them.
Ben noticed and stood. “Luke, I suddenly need coffee.”
Luke looked at the full cup beside him.
“Different coffee,” Ben said.
They left.
Olivia and Alex remained among the records.
“He helped you,” she said.
“And months later I did not know he was dying.”
“You were eighteen.”
“I keep hearing that as if age removes consequence.”
“It changes responsibility.”
Alex rubbed his taped hand. “I told Gerard about the chest pain. If Gerard was being paid by Parker—”
“Then you placed the information in the hands of the person hiding it.”
“I failed him.”
“You trusted the assigned trainer.”
“Trust is becoming an expensive mistake.”
Olivia thought of her father’s initials. “Yes.”
They sat in silence until Alex reached for a transfer sheet and their hands touched.
Neither withdrew immediately.
The contact was quieter than the almost-kiss waiting between them and more intimate than it should have been.
Olivia turned her palm beneath his, allowing their fingers to rest together for one breath.
Then she moved away.
“We need to find Gerard before Parker does,” she said.
Alex’s eyes remained on her hand. “Together.”
“Together.”
By evening, independent technicians had replaced Olivia’s apartment locks and isolated the security system from the building network. Noah created a private access account controlled by Olivia alone.
Alex returned with her.
This time he waited in the living room while she inspected every room first.
Nothing appeared disturbed.
She changed into soft trousers and one of her old university shirts, then found him in the kitchen attempting to prepare dinner.
“Is that smoke?” she asked.
“Steam.”
“The pan is empty.”
He turned off the burner.
Olivia laughed despite herself and took over. He stood beside her chopping vegetables with surprising competence once she gave him a task that did not involve heat.
The domestic rhythm came too easily.
“Ben likes you,” Alex said.
“He likes anyone willing to criticize you.”
“That is most of North America.”
“Then he is socially flexible.”
Alex’s shoulder brushed hers as he reached for a bowl.
Neither moved away.
The air thickened.
He looked down at her mouth. Olivia felt the weight of the attention through her entire body.
“Alex,” she whispered.
A crash sounded from the bedroom.
He moved before thought.
Olivia grabbed the panic button and followed despite his order to stay back.
Her bedroom window stood open.
Snow blew across the floor.
Drawers had been pulled out and emptied. Clothes covered the bed. The lock showed no damage. The new alarm had not sounded.
Alex checked the closet and fire escape while Olivia stood in the doorway, forcing herself to breathe.
Nothing valuable was missing.
Then she saw the mirror.
Four words had been written across the glass in red lipstick.
YOUR FATHER CHOSE WRONG.
Beneath the message, someone had placed an old photograph of Olivia’s mother beside Richard Parker.
On the back was a date.
The night before her mother died.