Chapter 3 - THE RING THAT SHOULD NOT HAVE BEEN THERE
Gavin Shaw had the emergency code.
Declan repeated the fact silently because saying it aloud made it worse.
Gavin had been at his side for seventeen years.
He had pulled Declan from a burning restaurant after a rival crew firebombed it in 2013.
He had slept in a plastic chair outside Camille’s hospital room for three nights after the explosion.
He had organized the funeral arrangements when doctors initially believed she would not survive the first week.
Trust was not a word Declan used easily.
Gavin had earned it in blood.
“No.”
Camille studied him.
“You asked who had access.”
“I know what I asked.”
“You don’t want the answer.”
“I don’t want a conclusion built from one missing ring.”
“Neither do I.”
That surprised him.
Camille folded her arms.
“I spent eight months trying not to make the same mistake you made.”
Declan’s face tightened.
“What mistake?”
“Deciding who was guilty because grief needed a name.”
Silence filled the room.
Tessa looked at the floor.
Declan deserved that sentence.
He hated it anyway.
“What exactly did you see today?” he asked Tessa.
She rubbed her thumb against a split knuckle.
“Mr. Shaw came into the west wing around noon.”
“That isn’t unusual.”
“No.”
“What was?”
“He didn’t sign the medical entry sheet.”
Declan looked at Camille.
Every person entering the medical rooms signed electronically.
Even Declan.
Tessa continued.
“He went into the supply room. He stayed maybe four minutes.”
“What did he carry out?”
“Nothing I could see.”
“Did he see you?”
“I don’t think so.”
Camille crossed to a tablet mounted beside the bed.
She entered a code.
The screen came alive.
Declan watched rows of access records appear.
“You’ve been checking logs.”
“For months.”
“You have administrator access?”
“No.”
“Then how?”
“Dr. Aris.”
Declan’s jaw flexed.
Camille sighed.
“You can be angry at him later.”
“I’m making a list.”
Despite everything, something almost familiar passed between them.
Not humor.
But the shape of humor.
It vanished quickly.
Camille scrolled.
“There.”
12:06 p.m.
WEST MEDICAL STORAGE.
Authorized entry.
GAVIN SHAW.
Declan leaned closer.
“That proves he entered.”
“Keep looking.”
A second line appeared.
12:11 p.m.
CAMERA FEED INTERRUPTION.
Manual override.
Security Hub One.
Declan’s expression changed.
Only senior security personnel could shut down an internal feed.
“How long?”
“Six minutes.”
Tessa whispered, “That’s when I saw him come out.”
Declan removed his phone.
Camille caught his wrist.
“No.”
“I’m calling Gavin.”
“That gives him warning.”
“If he’s innocent, he walks in and explains himself.”
“And if he isn’t?”
Declan looked down at her hand around his wrist.
It was warm.
Alive.
He could not get past that.
Camille noticed his stare and released him.
The distance returned immediately.
Declan put the phone away.
“Show me the medication logs.”
Camille opened another screen.
Her recovery had begun fourteen months after the explosion.
First voluntary eye movement.
Then two fingers.
Then a whispered word.
Dr. Aris had apparently recognized the signs before anyone else.
But Camille showed Declan something else.
Sedative levels had increased twice during the same period.
“Why?”
“They shouldn’t have.”
“Who ordered them?”
“No physician did.”
Declan frowned.
“The bags came sealed from the pharmacy.”
“They arrived sealed.”
Understanding moved across his face.
“Somebody replaced them after delivery.”
Tessa nodded.
“The medical deliveries pass through security before they come inside.”
Declan looked toward the hallway.
Gavin controlled security.
Still not proof.
But the walls were closing.
Declan opened the bedroom door.
“Stay here.”
Camille stepped forward.
“No.”
“This is my house.”
“It’s my house too.”
“You spent eight months letting everyone believe you couldn’t blink.”
Her face hardened.
“And you spent two years solving problems with bullets. We all developed bad habits.”
Tessa looked as though she wished she could become wallpaper.
Declan stared at Camille.
Then the corner of his mouth tightened.
“You always argued like that?”
“Yes.”
“I’d forgotten.”
“I hadn’t.”
That hurt both of them.
Declan checked the corridor.
Empty.
He motioned for them to follow.
They moved toward the small security terminal near the west stairwell.
Declan entered his credentials.
The system rejected them.
He tried again.
Rejected.
A warning appeared.
REMOTE ADMINISTRATION ACTIVE.
Declan’s pulse changed.
“Somebody’s inside the security hub.”
Tessa whispered, “Is that Gavin?”
Declan didn’t answer.
Camille stepped closer to the screen.
A small red icon began blinking.
WEST WING CONTAINMENT.
“What does that mean?” she asked.
Declan’s hand moved to his gun.
“It means somebody activated the emergency lockdown.”
A heavy metallic sound traveled through the hallway.
One door closed.
Then another.
Steel reinforcement bolts slid into place inside the walls.
Tessa ran toward the service corridor.
Too late.
The fire door slammed shut inches from her face.
Camille turned.
Behind them, the bedroom entrance sealed.
Declan checked the security panel again.
No response.
May you like
Someone had trapped all three of them inside the west wing.
Then the lights went out.
