integrity

Chapter 6 - The Last Christmas Trap

Gideon spent forty-seven minutes in police custody.

Sebastian expected hours.

Possibly days.

He had underestimated Daniel Reed.

More specifically, he had underestimated what Daniel had done before Gideon entered the lobby.

At 6:51 a.m., Daniel sent a sealed evidence package to the United States Attorney's Office, the Illinois Attorney General, two investigative journalists, three outside law firms and one retired federal judge who disliked Sebastian enough to answer his phone before sunrise.

The package did not contain everything.

It contained enough.

By 7:38, the officers questioning Gideon were receiving phone calls from people above them.

By 7:41, Gideon was released pending further investigation.

By 7:43, one police commander had turned off his phone and disappeared.

By 8:02, federal agents were entering Vale Holdings.

Sebastian's timeline began to collapse.

Gideon walked out of the precinct into a wall of reporters.

“Mr. Vale, did you abduct Ivy Shaw?”

“Mr. Vale, are you mentally fit to run your company?”

“Did you misuse charitable funds?”

“Is this connected to your daughter's death?”

That question stopped him.

Daniel touched his arm.

Keep moving.

Gideon didn't.

He turned toward the cameras.

Snow fell between him and a hundred microphones.

“My daughter has nothing to do with crimes committed by men who used her name after she died.”

The shouting quieted.

Gideon continued.

“Her name was Juniper Vale. She was five years old. She loved blueberry pancakes, hated wearing socks, and believed the moon followed our car because it was lonely.”

Daniel stared at him.

Gideon had never spoken publicly about Juniper.

Not once.

“Anyone who stole money meant for sick children and hid it behind my daughter's name will answer for it.”

A reporter shouted, “What about Ivy Shaw?”

Gideon's face hardened.

“I found Ivy freezing on a park bench while someone watched her from across the street. I took her somewhere warm. If that makes me a criminal, charge me.”

“Where is she now?”

Gideon looked directly at the cameras.

“She was taken from a protected location by the same people who attacked her mother.”

Another explosion of questions.

He walked away.

Inside the vehicle, Leah was waiting.

“You talked about Juniper.”

“Yes.”

“You never do.”

“No.”

“Why now?”

Gideon looked out the window.

“Because Sebastian used silence as evidence.”

Daniel entered from the other side.

“We found something.”

He placed a map between them.

Archer Cold Storage had been abandoned twenty minutes earlier.

No Ivy.

No Sebastian.

But one of Daniel's drones had tracked a delivery truck leaving the south loading dock.

It drove west.

Then north.

Then entered an underground garage beneath the old Vale Children's Pavilion.

Leah stared.

“The hospital?”

“Not operational,” Gideon said.

The pavilion had closed after a new pediatric wing opened.

Juniper had received treatment there.

Floor six.

Room 612.

Gideon's stomach twisted.

“He chose it deliberately.”

Daniel nodded.

“He wants you emotional.”

“He'll get disappointed.”

Daniel did not answer.

They entered through the hospital's old service basement at 10:12 a.m.

Dust covered the corridors.

Old murals remained on the walls.

Whales.

Clouds.

Bright balloons.

Gideon remembered every inch.

Juniper had once cried because one painted whale looked lonely.

He had asked the artist to add another.

Two blue whales still swam across the wall.

Leah touched his arm.

“You okay?”

“No.”

“Can you continue?”

“Yes.”

They moved upward.

Second floor empty.

Third floor empty.

On the fourth, Daniel's team found two armed men.

On the fifth, a tripwire.

On the sixth, the hallway lights were on.

Christmas music played from an old speaker.

Gideon stopped.

It was “Silent Night.”

Sebastian stood at the far end.

Ivy beside him.

His hand rested on her shoulder.

A gun pressed against her coat.

Leah made a sound like an animal being hurt.

“Ivy.”

“Mama!”

Sebastian tightened his grip.

“No touching reunion yet.”

Gideon stepped forward.

“You wanted me.”

“I wanted the drive.”

“I don't have it.”

Sebastian smiled.

“Neither do I.”

Ivy looked at Gideon.

“I told him Juniper does.”

Gideon frowned.

Then he understood.

Juniper.

The rabbit had fallen in the tunnel near the library.

Ivy must have removed the drive before Gideon ever found her.

Where would a frightened child hide something inside a stranger's house?

Somewhere Gideon had spoken about.

He had told Ivy about Juniper's music box.

His heart stopped.

The music box.

“You clever girl,” Gideon whispered.

Sebastian's eyes sharpened.

“So that's where it is.”

Gideon cursed himself.

Sebastian smiled.

“Thank you.”

He pulled out his phone.

“Search the music box.”

Daniel's men were still occupying the estate.

But Sebastian's men were apparently there too.

The fight had never ended.

Gideon stepped closer.

“You still lose.”

“Do I?”

“Federal agents have your accounts.”

“Copies.”

“Leah will testify.”

“Unstable grieving widow.”

“I'll testify.”

“Unstable grieving father.”

Daniel said, “I'll testify.”

Sebastian laughed.

“Emotionally constipated bodyguard?”

Daniel considered it.

“Fair.”

Sebastian's expression hardened.

“None of you understands power. Evidence is only useful if people survive long enough to explain it.”

Leah looked at the gun against Ivy.

“What do you want?”

Sebastian pointed toward Gideon.

“His signature.”

A folder lay on a wheelchair.

Emergency transfer of controlling shares.

Resignation.

Admission of financial misconduct.

A full confession written for Gideon.

“You sign,” Sebastian said. “I disappear. Mother and daughter walk away.”

“No,” Leah said.

Sebastian pressed the gun harder.

Ivy winced.

Gideon moved.

Sebastian shouted.

“One more step and she dies!”

Gideon stopped.

The corridor filled with silence.

Then Ivy looked at him.

Not Sebastian.

Gideon.

He saw something in her expression.

A question.

No.

A signal.

Her eyes moved downward.

Once.

Gideon followed.

Her boot.

The lace was loose.

No.

Not the lace.

Under her heel.

A red button.

Fire alarm.

She had positioned herself over it.

Juniper had done the same thing once during a school drill.

Gideon's heart pounded.

He looked back into Ivy's eyes.

Barely nodded.

Ivy stomped.

The alarm screamed.

Sprinklers exploded from the ceiling.

Sebastian flinched.

Ivy dropped.

Leah ran.

Gideon lunged.

The gun fired.

A bullet tore through the wall.

Daniel's team came from both stairwells.

Sebastian struck Gideon across the face.

Gideon hit him back.

Years of friendship disappeared beneath fists.

Sebastian crashed into an abandoned medication cart.

Gideon grabbed him.

“You carried her coffin.”

Sebastian spat blood.

“Yes.”

“You stood beside me.”

“Yes.”

“You watched me bury my child while you stole from children like her.”

Sebastian smiled through broken teeth.

“And you never noticed.”

Gideon's rage became silent.

That was when Sebastian tried to stab him.

A hidden blade flashed.

Leah screamed.

Gideon caught his wrist.

They crashed through the old nurses' station.

Daniel moved in but could not get a clean shot.

Sebastian twisted.

The knife cut Gideon's shoulder.

He barely felt it.

“You built all this,” Sebastian hissed. “I just understood how to use it.”

Gideon slammed his hand against the counter.

The knife fell.

Sebastian grabbed the gun.

Ivy shouted.

“Gideon!”

A shot exploded.

Sebastian froze.

Daniel stood ten feet away.

His weapon aimed at Sebastian's shoulder.

Blood spread across Sebastian's coat.

The gun dropped.

Federal agents entered from the western stairwell.

“Hands where we can see them!”

Sebastian looked around.

For the first time, he understood.

It was over.

Then his phone rang.

He started laughing.

Gideon stared.

“What?”

Sebastian looked toward the window.

“You think this was the trap?”

A deep boom rolled through the building.

The floor shook.

Daniel's face changed.

“Explosion below.”

Smoke began pouring from the stairwell.

Sebastian smiled.

“I burned the records before you came.”

Leah clutched Ivy.

Gideon looked toward the smoke.

Then Sebastian added one final sentence.

“And I locked the fire doors.”

The emergency system clanged.

Steel doors dropped throughout the sixth floor.

A second explosion shook the hospital.

The ceiling cracked.

Daniel shouted for everyone to move.

Gideon grabbed Ivy.

But a collapsing beam struck the floor between them.

Leah screamed.

Smoke swallowed the hallway.

May you like

Gideon fell backward.

When he looked up, Ivy was gone.

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