Chapter 2 - A Promise Until Midnight

Loretta’s back office had one desk, two folding chairs, a filing cabinet that had not closed properly since 2009, and a framed photograph of her late husband holding a bass the size of a toddler.

Within three minutes, it also contained eight bikers, one frightened accountant, three ringing phones, and more coffee than anyone needed.

Darius shut the door.

“Start at the beginning.”

Amara sat.

“Which beginning?”

“The one that explains why a billionaire’s son is trying to have you declared incompetent before lunch.”

She looked at the floor.

“Julian isn’t a billionaire’s son.”

Tasha leaned against the cabinet.

“No?”

“His father died six years ago. Julian controls Vale Meridian now.”

Isaac Bell folded his arms.

“Then why does everyone call Cecilia Vale the powerful one?”

“Because she is.”

Darius sat across from Amara.

“His mother?”

“Yes.”

“Chair of your foundation?”

“Yes.”

“Who appointed her?”

“My mother.”

Nobody spoke.

Amara gave a tired laugh.

“That’s the part I can’t explain without making my mother sound foolish.”

Isaac said gently, “Trusting someone is not foolish. Betraying trust is.”

Amara looked at him.

“Cecilia and my mother were best friends for twenty-seven years.”

Malik pulled a chair closer.

“What was your mother’s name?”

“Naomi Bennett.”

Darius remembered the name.

“Dr. Naomi Bennett?”

Amara nodded.

“She started the mobile pediatric clinic after the hurricane.”

Malik said, “My little brother got asthma treatment from that clinic when we were kids.”

Amara’s eyes softened.

“She would have remembered him.”

“How?”

“She remembered everybody.”

Darius watched grief pass over her face.

“When did she die?”

“Four years ago.”

“How?”

“Car accident.”

Tasha asked, “And Cecilia became chair after that?”

“Yes. My mother’s will named her interim chair until I turned thirty-two.”

“How old are you?”

“Thirty-two.”

Darius glanced at the clock.

“Birthday?”

“Today.”

The room went quiet.

Malik slowly sat back.

“Well, that’s not subtle.”

Amara rubbed both hands over her face.

“At three this afternoon, I become permanent voting trustee of my mother’s forty-one percent foundation stake.”

Darius frowned.

“Stake in what?”

“Not the foundation. The foundation owns forty-one percent of Bennett Harbor Holdings, which owns the East Harbor land and several clinics.”

Tasha said, “And Vale wants the land.”

“Yes.”

“Why now?”

“Because my vote can block the sale after today.”

Darius nodded.

“So they need to neutralize you before three.”

“Exactly.”

Isaac asked, “Where does Julian fit in?”

Amara looked embarrassed.

“We were engaged.”

“We know that part.”

“I met him eighteen months after my mother died. Cecilia introduced us.”

Tasha’s expression sharpened.

“Of course she did.”

Amara nodded.

“I didn’t see it that way then.”

“What way?”

“Placement.”

The word landed hard.

Darius said, “You think his relationship with you was planned?”

“I don’t know.”

“Do you love him?”

Amara went very still.

Then she said, “I loved who I thought he was.”

Nobody pushed.

Darius leaned forward.

“What changed?”

“Three weeks ago, I was reviewing foundation vendor payments. We have a new audit firm, and they asked why three environmental consultants had the same mailing address.”

Tasha smiled faintly.

“Shells.”

“Maybe.”

“Names?”

“Harbor Pine Advisory. Ledgepoint Services. Calder Civic Strategies.”

Tasha typed them into her phone.

Amara continued.

“Together they received almost eight million dollars over four years.”

Malik whistled.

“And nobody noticed?”

“The payments were split across projects.”

Isaac said, “Who approved them?”

“Cecilia. Julian. My uncle Samuel.”

Darius asked, “Your uncle is on the board?”

“Treasurer.”

“Trusted?”

Amara hesitated again.

“I thought so.”

Darius nodded.

“What did you do when you found the payments?”

“I asked Julian.”

Tasha laughed once.

“You asked the suspect?”

“I didn’t know he was a suspect.”

“What did he say?”

“That the firms were real but confidential because of land negotiations.”

“And you believed him?”

“For about twenty minutes.”

Darius almost smiled.

Amara did not.

“I checked state registrations. All three companies were formed by the same legal service. Same week. Same bank.”

Malik said, “And then?”

“I copied the vendor ledger.”

“Onto what?”

“My laptop and an encrypted drive.”

“Where are they?”

Amara looked down.

“Julian has the laptop.”

“And the drive?”

She reached under the collar of her blouse.

A thin chain appeared.

At the end was a small brass key.

Tasha stared.

“That’s not a drive.”

“No. It opens a locker.”

Darius said, “Where?”

“South Station.”

“Is the drive in it?”

“I hope so.”

“Hoping is bad.”

“I put it there yesterday morning.”

Tasha straightened.

“And Julian took your phone last night.”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“He saw a message from the audit firm asking whether I had verified the three vendors.”

Darius asked, “What happened after that?”

Amara’s breathing changed.

“He asked me to sit down.”

Darius waited.

“He said I was exhausted. That grief can cause obsession. That my birthday was making me unstable because it reminded me of my mother.”

Malik muttered, “Classic.”

Amara nodded.

“He had Dr. Feld there.”

“The therapist?”

“Yes.”

“At the house?”

“Yes.”

Darius’s jaw tightened.

“What time?”

“Around nine.”

“Prearranged?”

“I think so.”

“What did Feld do?”

“He asked if I had thoughts of harming myself.”

“Did you?”

“No.”

“Did you tell him no?”

“Repeatedly.”

“Then?”

“He asked if I felt watched.”

Tasha barked a laugh.

“You were being watched.”

“I know.”

“What did you say?”

“I said Julian had been checking my phone and following me through the house.”

“And Feld wrote paranoid ideation.”

Amara looked at her.

“How did you know?”

“Because men like that buy words.”

Darius looked at Tasha.

She shrugged.

“My ex-husband tried something similar during custody.”

Darius turned back to Amara.

“Continue.”

“Julian told me to sleep. I waited until two in the morning.”

“How did you get out?”

“The laundry door.”

“He locked the house.”

“He forgot the old service wing doesn’t connect to the new alarm system.”

Tasha smiled.

“Rich people renovate the rooms guests see first.”

Amara almost smiled too.

“I walked two miles to a twenty-four-hour gas station.”

“And then?”

“I called a rideshare from the clerk’s phone.”

“Where did you go?”

“South Station.”

“For the drive?”

“No. I was afraid they’d be waiting. I took the first bus west.”

“That puts you here.”

“Yes.”

Darius leaned back.

“Why this café?”

“I saw motorcycles.”

Malik grinned.

“That was your entire strategy?”

“I wasn’t having a good morning.”

Isaac laughed.

Even Amara laughed then.

It was brief, shaky, but real.

Darius said, “And why ask for a husband?”

She looked at him.

“Because Julian has spent six months introducing me as practically his wife.”

“So?”

“So people let him speak for me.”

Her voice hardened.

“At restaurants. At medical appointments. At meetings. At my own house.”

Darius said nothing.

“I kept telling myself it was protective.”

“What changed your mind?”

“He answered a question my lawyer asked me yesterday.”

“What question?”

“Whether I wanted the East Harbor sale.”

Darius’s eyes narrowed.

“He answered for you?”

“He said yes.”

“And you?”

“I said no.”

Tasha stopped typing.

“What happened?”

“Cecilia laughed.”

Amara looked at the wall.

“She said I was emotional because the land reminded me of my mother.”

Isaac asked, “Does it?”

“Yes.”

“Does that make you wrong?”

“No.”

“Good.”

A phone rang.

Darius pulled his from his pocket.

“Nia.”

He answered on speaker.

“Tell me you’re not calling because one of your idiots got arrested.”

A woman’s voice filled the room.

Darius said, “Good morning to you too.”

“Darius.”

“We need a lawyer.”

“You always need a lawyer.”

“This one’s different.”

“How different?”

He looked at Amara.

“Emergency incapacity petition.”

The line went silent.

Then Nia said, “Who?”

“Amara Bennett.”

Another pause.

“The Bennett Foundation?”

“Yes.”

“What did you do?”

“Nothing.”

“Darius.”

“I called her my wife.”

Silence.

Malik covered his mouth.

Tasha looked delighted.

Nia said, “You did what?”

“Socially.”

“That is not a legal category.”

“I know.”

“Do you?”

Amara leaned toward the phone.

“Ms. Cole?”

“Nia Cole.”

“I’m Amara.”

“Are you actually married to my brother?”

“No.”

“Thank God.”

Darius frowned.

“Excuse me?”

Nia ignored him.

“Amara, do you have counsel?”

“I did. My estate attorney is in Atlanta for a trial.”

“Name?”

“Rachel Kim.”

“I know Rachel. I’ll call her.”

Amara looked relieved.

“Thank you.”

“Do not thank me yet. Where are you?”

Darius said, “Loretta’s.”

“Of course you are.”

“We need to get to county court by two fifteen.”

“You need to get there earlier.”

“Can you meet us?”

“I can be there in forty minutes.”

Tasha asked, “What should we bring?”

“Anything showing Amara is competent, independent, and under coercive pressure.”

Amara said, “I have emails.”

“Where?”

“My locker.”

Nia said, “Then do not go alone.”

Darius stood.

“We’re going now.”

“No.”

He stopped.

Nia’s voice sharpened.

“If someone planned this petition, the locker may be watched.”

Tasha nodded.

“She’s right.”

Darius said, “Suggestions?”

“First, preserve what you already have. Second, check her for trackers. Third, call the police if there has been unlawful confinement.”

Amara said quietly, “I don’t know if I can prove it.”

Nia replied, “You do not need to prove the whole case before reporting the conduct.”

Darius looked at Amara.

“Your call.”

She thought for a moment.

“After court.”

“Why?”

“Because if Julian sees police at the house before the hearing, he’ll say I’m escalating irrationally.”

Nia sighed.

“I hate that your reasoning makes sense.”

Darius said, “Tracker check first.”

Tasha pointed toward the parking lot.

“Bring her coat.”

Amara frowned.

“My coat?”

“Jewelry. Bag. Shoes too.”

“What are you looking for?”

“Anything that talks when you don’t.”

They moved into the alley behind the café.

The morning wind had picked up.

Tasha used a handheld scanner from her saddlebag.

Amara stood with her arms crossed.

“This is ridiculous.”

Tasha swept the device near her purse.

“Most important things are.”

The scanner chirped.

Everyone froze.

Tasha moved it again.

Chirp.

Darius’s expression changed.

“Where?”

“Bag.”

Amara went pale.

“That bag never left me.”

“Open it.”

She did.

Wallet.

Lip balm.

A folded bus receipt.

A compact.

A scarf.

A small velvet jewelry box.

Tasha pointed.

“That.”

Amara stared.

“No.”

“What?”

“Julian gave me that box.”

“When?”

“Last week.”

“What was in it?”

“Earrings.”

“Where are the earrings?”

“At his house.”

Tasha put on gloves, opened the box, and peeled back the velvet lining.

A black disk no wider than a dime sat beneath it.

Malik cursed.

Amara took one step backward.

“No.”

Darius steadied her by the elbow.

“You okay?”

“He knew.”

“Looks like it.”

“He knew where I was all morning.”

Tasha held the tracker up.

“Probably.”

Amara looked toward the highway.

“Then he knew I came here.”

Darius nodded.

“And he came in confident because he expected you to be alone.”

Her face tightened.

“What do we do?”

Tasha smiled.

“We teach him a geography lesson.”

She walked to the dumpster.

Malik said, “Trash?”

“Too easy.”

Tasha looked across the alley at a delivery truck marked PINE RIDGE POULTRY.

Darius started laughing.

Amara stared at him.

“What?”

Tasha walked over to the driver and returned two minutes later without the tracker.

“Where is it?”

“Heading to Tennessee.”

For the first time, Amara smiled fully.

It changed her entire face.

Darius looked away before she noticed him looking.

Nia’s voice came from his phone.

“I heard that.”

Darius frowned.

“You’re still there?”

“You never hung up.”

Malik laughed.

Nia continued.

“Now listen to me. We are not winning this by acting tougher than Julian.”

Darius looked toward the highway.

“No?”

“No. We win by making him prove every lie.”

Amara’s smile faded.

“And if he can?”

“He can’t prove a lie.”

“He has a doctor.”

“So we question the doctor.”

“He has my signature.”

“So we inspect the document.”

“He has Cecilia.”

“So we follow the money.”

Darius looked at Amara.

Nia said, “And one more thing.”

“What?” Amara asked.

“Stop calling Darius your husband in any official setting.”

Darius said, “That hurts.”

“It keeps you out of jail.”

Amara laughed again despite herself.

Then she looked at him.

“What do I call you?”

Darius shrugged.

“Today?”

“Yes.”

He held out his hand.

“Call me the man who’s not leaving.”

She stared at his hand.

Then placed hers in it.

“Until when?”

He closed his fingers around hers.

“Until midnight.”

Tasha groaned.

“That was painfully dramatic.”

Malik nodded.

“He practices.”

Darius ignored them.

Amara’s hand was still trembling.

But less now.

“Until midnight,” she repeated.

Across the county, Julian Vale’s phone displayed a moving dot headed north on Interstate 65.

He smiled.

Then the dot accelerated to sixty-eight miles per hour.

Julian’s smile disappeared.

A second later, his assistant entered the room.

“Mr. Vale?”

“What?”

“The court moved the hearing.”

Julian looked up sharply.

“To when?”

“Two o’clock.”

“Why?”

“The judge has another emergency matter.”

Julian checked the time.

1:08 p.m.

“Where is Cecilia?”

“Already at the courthouse.”

“And Dr. Feld?”

“On his way.”

Julian stared at the tracker moving toward Tennessee.

Then he picked up another phone.

“Find Amara.”

His assistant hesitated.

“How?”

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Julian’s voice turned cold.

“Start with the bikers.”