Chapter 7 - The Shooter in the Executive Floor
Samuel pulled me behind the desk.
Margaret fired toward the office door.
Another bullet struck the cabinet.
The entire executive floor went into lockdown.
Steel barriers covered the windows.
Someone outside the room was trapped with us.
Footsteps moved along the corridor.
Slow.
Controlled.
The door handle turned.
Margaret aimed.
The door opened.
Andrew stepped inside holding a pistol.
His tuxedo was soaked.
Blood ran from a cut above his eyebrow.
I stared at him.
“Did you shoot at us?”
“No.”
Margaret fired into the wall beside his head.
He dropped the weapon.
“Stop!”
Samuel retrieved it.
Andrew raised his hands.
“Someone attacked me in the parking garage.”
“Why are you here?” I asked.
“Brenda disappeared.”
“She was at the mansion when we left.”
“She left afterward.”
“Who told you to come here?”
“Victor Lang.”
Samuel and Margaret exchanged a glance.
“What did Victor say?” I asked.
“That you were transferring the company and destroying evidence.”
“Did he give you the gun?”
Andrew hesitated.
“Yes.”
He had been sent here as bait.
Either to kill us or to be blamed for the shooting.
A ceiling panel shifted.
Margaret fired upward.
A man fell through the opening.
He wore tactical armor and carried a suppressed rifle.
Marcus’s security team finally breached the floor.
They restrained the shooter.
Marcus removed the man’s mask.
I recognized him.
Peter Doyle.
My father’s driver when I was a child.
Blood filled his mouth, but he smiled.
“Your father should have let the Hales die.”
Margaret moved closer.
“You worked for my father?”
“For Charles Hale.”
Peter had infiltrated Escalante security more than twenty years earlier.
“Who sent you?” I asked.
He looked at Andrew.
“Ask your husband who paid Victor Lang twenty million dollars.”
Samuel searched the corporate records.
The transfer existed.
Authorized by Andrew three months earlier.
Andrew claimed it was a consulting payment.
Peter laughed.
“He bought the debt controlling Margaret’s restoration trust.”
Margaret turned toward Andrew.
“You tried to steal my family fund?”
“I was protecting myself.”
“From me?”
“From everyone.”
That was Andrew’s only loyalty.
Himself.
My phone rang.
Brenda’s name appeared.
I answered.
Her voice shook.
“Mariana, someone took my mother.”
Celeste’s line on the desk went silent.
“Who?”
“She says Margaret has her.”
Everyone looked at Margaret.
She stared back.
“I did not take Celeste.”
Brenda continued.
“They want you to return every frozen asset to Andrew before sunrise.”
The demand made no sense.
Margaret wanted the Hale trust restored.
She would never return power to Andrew.
May you like
Someone was using her name.
Someone who needed all of us fighting each other.
