Chapter 4 - WHY ROMAN HAD BEEN WATCHING CLAIRE FOR SIX MONTHS
“You.”
The word hung between them.
Amy stopped crying long enough to stare.
Dante suddenly found the villa’s ceiling extremely interesting.
Claire’s eyes narrowed.
“You are going to explain that immediately.”
Roman looked toward Dante.
“Give us the room.”
Claire snapped:
“No.”
Roman looked back.
“No?”
“Amy stays.”
Amy nodded quickly.
Roman seemed to consider arguing.
Then didn’t.
Progress.
He walked toward the open balcony doors.
Morning sunlight covered the ocean.
“I first reviewed Higgins Freight six months ago.”
Claire folded her arms.
“Because of Bellamy.”
“Initially.”
“What changed?”
“You.”
“That sounds terrible.”
“I know.”
“Try again.”
Roman almost smiled.
“Your father’s numbers made no sense.”
“That part I understand.”
“Revenue was stable. Operations were efficient. Labor costs improved. Fuel exposure decreased. But cash disappeared.”
“Because Dad was gambling.”
“Yes.”
“Then?”
“I wanted to know why a company with strong operations had weak finances.”
Claire knew the answer already.
“Me.”
“You were running operations.”
“Yes.”
“I reviewed every decision tied to you.”
Claire remembered his ballroom speech.
Dispatch restructuring.
Fuel contracts.
Union jobs.
He had not improvised.
He had studied her.
“Why?”
“Because I was considering buying the debt.”
“And?”
“If I did, I needed someone who could keep Higgins Freight alive.”
“You planned to keep me.”
The phrasing irritated her.
Roman noticed.
“Offer you the position.”
“Better.”
“Barely.”
“Continue.”
Roman looked at her.
“I had no interest in running a trucking company personally.”
“Heartbreaking.”
“You had already been doing it.”
“Without the title.”
“Yes.”
“Because my father wouldn’t step down.”
Roman said nothing.
Claire knew he had noticed that too.
Patrick loved her.
She knew that.
But loving his daughter had never stopped him from calling her “my little girl” while asking her to solve problems no little girl should have carried.
Roman continued:
“My original plan was to acquire controlling debt, force a restructuring, remove Patrick from financial authority, and offer you ten percent equity to remain chief operating officer.”
Amy whispered:
“Ten percent?”
Claire ignored her.
“You expected me to work for the man who took my family company.”
“Yes.”
She almost laughed.
“You really are insane.”
“I expected you to refuse for approximately forty-eight hours.”
“What?”
“Then examine the alternative.”
“Which was?”
“Bellamy.”
Claire hated that he was probably right.
“What changed the plan?”
“Your father refused my restructuring offer.”
“So you waited.”
“Yes.”
“Until he defaulted.”
“Yes.”
“Then bought everything.”
“Enough.”
“Why didn’t you call me?”
Roman’s face became hard.
“Patrick made me promise not to.”
Claire stared.
“What?”
“He said you didn’t know about the debt.”
“You listened to him?”
“For three weeks.”
“Why?”
“Because humiliating a man in front of his daughter is rarely useful in negotiation.”
She wanted to hate that answer.
Couldn’t fully.
“Then why not tell me when Bellamy moved?”
“Because by the time the default triggered Monday morning, speed mattered more than explanation.”
“So you sent lawyers.”
“Yes.”
“You froze accounts.”
“To stop transfers.”
“You closed our terminals.”
“Temporary compliance holds.”
“You terrified our employees.”
Roman’s expression shifted.
“That part I regret.”
Claire looked at him.
“Do you?”
“Yes.”
Simple.
No defense.
That surprised her.
“Then Monday night you learned Patrick ran?”
“Yes.”
“And still ignored my calls?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
Roman’s jaw tightened.
“Because I did not know whether you were involved.”
Claire stared.
“You thought I helped him?”
“I investigate before trusting.”
“You could have answered one call.”
“Yes.”
“Why didn’t you?”
Roman looked directly at her.
“That was a mistake.”
Claire almost lost her anger because he said it so plainly.
She didn’t let him.
“A large one.”
“Yes.”
“Twenty-three calls.”
“I remember.”
“I hope so.”
Amy sat heavily on the sofa.
“My father helped Bellamy.”
Claire looked at her.
“We don’t know everything yet.”
“The letter—”
“Dad said he found proof.”
“Then we find it.”
Roman nodded.
“The books.”
Claire turned toward him.
“My father’s house is alarmed.”
“I can get us inside.”
She raised an eyebrow.
“I have a key.”
“Oh.”
Roman looked almost disappointed.
“You wanted to commit a felony?”
“I like options.”
They returned to New York that afternoon while Bahamian authorities and Roman’s local contacts searched for Patrick.
Roman’s people traced Walter’s speedboat to a private island marina.
Walter was gone.
A charter later left for Miami using another name.
He was running.
That mattered.
At Patrick’s Brooklyn Heights brownstone, Claire stopped inside the library.
It smelled like old leather and her father’s aftershave.
Her mother had designed the room before dying nine years earlier.
Floor-to-ceiling books.
Dark wood.
Patrick loved biographies he rarely finished.
Claire remembered her mother laughing:
“Your father hides cash inside books and then forgets which dead president has it.”
Roman stood in the doorway.
“Dead presidents.”
“Yes.”
They started with presidential biographies.
Washington.
Lincoln.
Roosevelt.
Nothing.
Amy checked Churchill.
Claire moved toward a shelf containing Kennedy.
Her father had always loved Kennedy.
She pulled one volume.
Heavy.
A hollow space had been carved inside.
Roman’s expression changed.
Inside was a flash drive.
Two handwritten ledgers.
A small digital recorder.
And a sealed envelope addressed to:
CLAIRE — IF WALTER LIES.
Amy turned away.
Claire opened the envelope.
Bank statements.
A consulting contract.
Walter Higgins personally receiving $75,000 monthly from Bellhaven Maritime Advisory.
Then a future-equity agreement.
Upon acquisition of Higgins Harbor Freight assets, Walter Patrick Higgins—wait.
Claire frowned.
Walter’s middle name was James.
The agreement read Walter James Higgins.
Ten percent.
Amy began sobbing.
“My dad sold us.”
Claire reached for her.
Amy pulled away.
“No.”
“Amy.”
“He let me defend him.”
“You didn’t know.”
“He called me from wherever he was and told me to get away from you.”
Claire froze.
Get away from Claire.
Not Roman.
Claire.
Why?
Roman picked up the digital recorder.
“May I?”
Claire nodded.
Patrick’s voice filled the library.
“Walter, you’re not taking Pier Nine.”
Then Walter:
“You already lost it.”
“You told me Bellamy was helping us.”
“He was helping me.”
Amy covered her mouth.
Patrick swore.
Walter continued:
“You were going to destroy the company anyway.”
“So you sold it?”
“I saved what could be saved.”
“For yourself.”
Silence.
Patrick’s voice broke.
“Claire trusted you.”
Walter laughed bitterly.
“Claire runs the company better than both of us. That’s the problem.”
Claire felt cold.
Then:
“If Bellamy takes Higgins Freight, he’ll get rid of her.”
Patrick shouted:
“You said she’d be protected!”
Walter:
“I said whatever made you sign.”
Amy sank into a chair.
Roman’s face became lethal.
The recording continued.
Patrick said:
“I’m going to her.”
Walter answered:
“No, you’re going to Nassau.”
“Why?”
“Because if Claire knows what you’ve done, she’ll go to Calder.”
Silence.
Then Patrick:
“Maybe she should.”
Walter cursed.
Recording ended.
Claire stared at Roman.
Her father, who had refused Roman months earlier out of pride, had finally decided Claire should trust him.
Too late.
Roman checked the flash drive.
Encrypted.
Dante could handle it.
Then Claire saw another object inside the hollow book.
A photograph.
Her mother, Anne Higgins.
Standing beside a much younger Roman Calder.
Claire stared.
Roman saw it.
Everything in his face changed.
“Where did he get that?”
Claire looked at him.
“You knew my mother?”
Roman said nothing.
“Roman.”
“Yes.”
The anger returned immediately.
“How?”
He took the photograph carefully.
Anne looked maybe forty.
Roman around twenty-six.
They stood at Pier Nine.
Her mother’s arm rested around his shoulders.
On the back, Anne had written:
ROMAN — KEEP YOUR PROMISE.
Claire looked up.
“What promise?”
Roman’s silence became answer enough.
“You said you researched me because of the company.”
“I did.”
“That isn’t the whole truth.”
“No.”
“Then tell me.”
He looked at Anne’s photograph.
May you like
“Your mother saved my life.”
Claire stopped breathing.
