Harrison's attention sharpened like a blade. "What did he tell them?"
"He stuck to the story we agreed upon. Said I visited the house for fraternity small talk, nothing important." Harry's voice cracked slightly. "But I don't know if he can hold up under real pressure. The kid's scared, and scared people say stupid things."
"Did his lawyer keep him in line?"
"I think so, but..." Harry stared out at the peaceful bay, its tranquil waters mocking the storm he'd unleashed. "What if Robert cracks? What if he tells them about the real reason I was there?"
Harrison was silent for a long moment, and Harry watched his father's reflection in the window—the set of his shoulders and the intentional stillness that meant he was runningpossibilities, measuring risks, and making the kind of cold calculations that had built an empire.
When Harrison finally spoke, his voice carried a finality that made Harry shiver despite the warm office air.
"Then we accelerate the timeline. The attorney problem gets resolved immediately, before she can cause more damage. And Robert..." Harrison paused, his reflection meeting Harry's eyes in the window glass. "Robert becomes a different kind of problem that requires a different kind of solution. One that worked for you years ago.”
“No other choice?”
"You think any of this is my preference? I'm talking about protecting an operation that generates millions of dollars annually… and not for us. For the scum you forced us to deal with." Harrison turned from the window, his face a mask of cold pragmatism.
"What if we're wrong? What if the attorney doesn't really know anything substantial?"
Harrison's grimace was the most terrifying thing Harry had ever seen. "But that's the cost of doing business in the world we’re forced to live in."
The casual brutality of it hit Harry like a physical blow. This was what they’d both become in the name of protecting their own lives. "When?" Harry asked, hating himself for asking, hating himself more for wanting to know.
"Soon." Harrison adjusted his tie, smoothed his perfect hair, transforming back into the distinguished community leader who donated to youth sports and charmed at charity galas. "And Harry? When it happens, you'll be exactly where you need to be, doing exactly what you need to be doing to maintain your innocence."
Harrison paused in the doorway, his silhouette framed against the afternoon light. "You started this by being carelessand emotional. Don't compound your mistakes by developing a conscience now. We're in too deep to turn back."
The door closed with a soft click, leaving Harry alone in his office with the weight of what he'd set in motion. He reached for the whiskey bottle again, his hands shaking uncontrollably now as he poured another glass.
Outside, the Chesapeake Bay sparkled innocently in the afternoon sun, indifferent to the darkness that was about to engulf them all.
44
Sandra reviewed Manuel Garcia's contract one final time before sliding it across her desk toward him. The afternoon light streaming through her office window caught the worry lines etched around his weathered eyes, and she felt her heart clench with sympathy for the hardworking electrician who'd become caught in someone else's criminal scheme.
"Mr. Garcia, I want to assure you again that your business practices are completely ethical," she said, her voice firm with conviction. "The excessive costs appearing on Mrs. Patterson's contract aren't your responsibility. Blackwood Luxury Custom Homes is inflating your legitimate bid by a large margin, which they can do, but if there is a concern, it is between the home buyer and the builder. In this case, that’s Mr. Blackwood."
Manuel's calloused hands gripped the contract as he nodded slowly. "But what happens now, Ms. O'Neill? If Mrs. Patterson complains to Blackwood about me overcharging, will they stop using Garcia Electrical?"
"I've spoken with Mrs. Patterson and explained that you're not responsible for the inflated costs," Sandra said carefully. "I have documentation proving your bid. If she approachesBlackwood about the discrepancy, the evidence will support your integrity."
Manuel gathered his papers with careful movements, the respect in his voice unmistakable. "I appreciate everything you've done, Ms. O'Neill. My family and I are grateful."
After he left, Sandra sat staring at the closed door, her mind churning with frustration. She'd uncovered systematic fraud, but proving it and protecting innocent contractors like Manuel from the fallout were entirely different challenges. She’d turned the evidence over to Terry and Colt, and it was up to law enforcement to decide how to handle the situation.
Her phone rang, jerking her from the dark thoughts. The caller ID listed Baytown Middle School. Surprised, she answered. “Hello?”
“Sandra?”
“Emma? Is everything okay?" Sandra straightened in her chair, immediately alert.
“I’m calling from the nurse’s office.”
Emma’s voice was so soft that Sandra strained to hear what she was saying.
"Sandra, I hate to ask, but I need a favor. I... um... started my period, and I’m cramping pretty bad. I don’t want to ride the bus home because I bled through my pants a little. The nurse says it doesn't show much, but I don’t want to get on the bus.”
“Oh, honey, of course I’ll help. Have you talked to your dad?”
