Chapter 7 - THE SEVENTH VICTIM
“My aunt died in a boating accident.”
Olivia could barely hear her own voice above the roar of the flames.
Ruth Bell shook her head.
“That's what they told your family.”
Smoke thickened inside the storage room.
Grant appeared in the doorway.
“We move now!”
Daniel helped Ruth stand while Olivia supported her other side.
They stumbled through the hallway toward the basement stairs.
The building groaned.
Something heavy crashed behind them.
A wave of hot air pushed through the corridor.
Grant led them into the old maintenance tunnel beneath Harbor House.
There, the air was cooler, though dust covered every surface.
Olivia could hear sirens approaching outside.
She kept one arm around Ruth.
“Rebecca Parker,” she whispered. “She was my aunt?”
Ruth nodded.
“Your mother's older sister. She worked at Pier Fourteen.”
Olivia remembered a framed photograph in her childhood home.
A young woman with dark hair standing beside her mother.
Her family had rarely spoken about Rebecca.
Her mother had said the loss was too painful.
“She died seventeen years ago,” Olivia said.
Ruth's expression crumpled.
“Yes. But not in a boating accident.”
Grant urged them forward.
At the end of the tunnel, an iron ladder led to a sidewalk access hatch.
Two firefighters opened it from above.
Fresh air rushed inside.
Daniel climbed first, then helped pull Ruth to safety.
Olivia followed.
As she reached the street, a thunderous crash shook the ground.
Part of Harbor House's roof collapsed inward.
Flames roared into the gray Seattle sky.
Olivia stumbled toward her brother.
Daniel caught her.
For several moments, they held each other without speaking.
Then Olivia looked back at the burning building.
All those photographs.
All those memories.
A place Robert and Margaret had built with kindness had nearly become their grave.
Detective Naomi Reed arrived minutes later.
Charles Vance was gone.
His abandoned sedan contained a gasoline container, but investigators found evidence that another vehicle had been waiting to collect him.
Naomi approached Ruth.
“Ma'am, are you Ruth Bell?”
Ruth nodded.
“Then we need to get you somewhere safe.”
Ruth grabbed Naomi's sleeve.
“Preston Whitmore killed my friend. And Robert Hawthorne helped cover up what happened.”
Sebastian's father.
Olivia felt the revelation settle heavily in her chest.
Naomi looked toward Grant.
“Get everyone to the hospital. I want recorded statements as soon as they're medically cleared.”
Before leaving, Olivia called Helen Brooks.
“What happened with the transfer?”
Helen sounded breathless.
“The judge granted a temporary restraining order at eight fifty-eight. The original trust restrictions and Margaret's statement were enough to stop the transaction pending a full hearing.”
Olivia closed her eyes.
They had done it.
Margaret's voice had finally been heard.
Then Helen added, “But Sebastian is still in custody. The prosecutor is opposing his release.”
The relief vanished.
Olivia looked toward the harbor.
One battle was over.
The war was far from finished.
At the hospital, Ruth was examined for dehydration, smoke exposure, and injuries from prolonged confinement.
She had been held captive for almost three months.
Doctors confirmed she was stable enough to give a statement after resting.
Naomi arranged a guarded room.
Olivia sat beside Daniel in the waiting area.
He had been unusually quiet since Ruth mentioned their aunt.
Finally, he spoke.
“Mom used to wake up crying.”
Olivia looked at him.
“I remember.”
“She said Rebecca never would have gone near the water alone. Dad kept trying to get the investigation reopened.”
Olivia remembered her father keeping newspaper clippings in an old shoebox.
She had thought they were simply memories of his sister-in-law.
Now she understood.
“He knew something was wrong,” she whispered.
Daniel nodded.
“After Dad died, I found letters he'd written to the police. They said there was no evidence of foul play.”
Olivia looked down at her hands.
She had spent years helping strangers communicate.
She had never realized her own parents had been fighting to be heard.
Later that afternoon, Naomi allowed Olivia and Daniel to speak with Ruth while the detective remained present.
Ruth sat upright in bed.
Her face was lined with exhaustion.
But when Olivia entered, she reached out.
“You look like your mother.”
Olivia sat slowly.
“Did you know her?”
“Yes. Rebecca talked about her constantly. Your mother was younger, married, and raising two small children. Rebecca was proud of all of you.”
Tears filled Olivia's eyes.
“Tell me what happened.”
Ruth took a shaky breath.
“Seventeen years ago, Pier Fourteen was being used to move illegal shipments through a network of shell companies. Charles Vance and Preston Whitmore controlled the operation.”
“Was Robert involved?” Naomi asked.
“He was a financial partner in the redevelopment. At first, he believed the shipments were undeclared merchandise. Then he discovered forged safety inspections and illegal payments.”
Ruth paused.
“Rebecca worked in the terminal office. She found records showing hazardous cargo was being stored beside occupied workspaces. She told Robert the workers were in danger.”
Olivia gripped Daniel's hand.
“Did he help her?”
“He promised to. But before he could take the evidence to the authorities, Preston learned she'd copied the records.”
Ruth wiped her eyes.
“The fire started that night. Six workers died inside. Rebecca escaped through a loading door. She saw Preston standing beside a security officer who had locked the emergency exits.”
Olivia felt nauseated.
“Then what?”
“Rebecca met Robert the next morning. She wanted him to testify.”
“Did he?”
Ruth shook her head.
“Charles threatened Sebastian. Robert became frightened and asked Rebecca to stay hidden while he gathered more evidence.”
Daniel's face hardened.
“He abandoned her.”
“Yes,” Ruth whispered. “And he spent the rest of his life regretting it.”
Olivia swallowed.
“How did she die?”
“Her car was forced off a coastal road three days later. They moved her body near the marina and staged a boating accident.”
Daniel stood abruptly.
“Those people murdered our aunt.”
Ruth nodded.
“Robert helped conceal the truth by staying silent. He didn't arrange her murder, but he knew enough to challenge the official story and didn't.”
Olivia stared at the floor.
Robert Hawthorne had built a charitable trust in the years afterward.
Perhaps he had genuinely wanted to make things right.
But kindness offered later could never erase his earlier cowardice.
“What changed?” she asked.
Ruth looked at her.
“Robert began collecting financial evidence against Charles and Preston. He transferred properties into RENA to keep them from being destroyed. He also created a confidential file naming the people involved in the fire.”
“And Charles killed him before he could release it?”
Ruth hesitated.
“Robert's heart stopped after he received new medication from his private physician. Charles had recommended that doctor.”
Naomi wrote something down.
“Do you have proof the medication was altered?”
“I have copies of the prescriptions. And I know the doctor changed the dosage without authorization.”
Sebastian had believed his father's heart attack was natural.
Now there was a possible explanation that could be investigated.
Ruth leaned toward Olivia.
“The original records are in a sealed maintenance chamber beneath Mercer Row. I know how to reach it.”
Naomi straightened.
“Then we secure that chamber with a warrant.”
“Do it quickly,” Ruth said. “Charles knows the court stopped the transfer. He'll destroy everything before anyone can search.”
Olivia looked at Daniel.
Their aunt's death had become part of a much larger crime.
And the truth was finally close enough to touch.
Across town, Sebastian sat in an interview room at police headquarters.
His attorney had just told him about Harbor House.
“Olivia nearly died?” he demanded.
“She survived. So did Daniel and Ruth.”
Sebastian rubbed his face.
For the first time in years, he felt truly powerless.
He could command men across Seattle.
He could move millions of dollars with a phone call.
But he couldn't walk out of that room to help the woman who had risked her life for his mother.
Helen placed a folder on the table.
“Detective Reed has new evidence. Traffic footage places Charles near Benjamin Adler's apartment shortly before the murder. Your vehicle appears to have been duplicated with stolen registration plates.”
Sebastian looked up.
“Will they release me?”
“She is asking the prosecutor to reconsider the charges. We may be able to secure your release while the investigation continues.”
He leaned back.
“Then tell Naomi I'll cooperate. Fully.”
Helen studied him.
“Even if that means disclosing your own illegal business dealings?”
Sebastian thought of Olivia's words.
Tell the truth. All of it.
“Yes.”
Meanwhile, at the Hawthorne mansion, Margaret sat near the library window.
The fire at Harbor House had devastated her.
But Helen had called to tell her the transfer was blocked.
For the first time since the accident, Margaret felt a small measure of hope.
She raised her hands and slowly practiced the words she wanted to tell Sebastian.
I'm proud of you.
A knock sounded.
Her temporary nurse entered.
“Mrs. Hawthorne, Dr. Carlisle is here to examine you.”
Margaret frowned.
She hadn't requested a doctor.
The nurse smiled.
“Your son arranged it.”
Margaret shook her head.
No.
The nurse stepped behind her wheelchair.
Before Margaret could reach the call button, someone covered her mouth with a cloth.
Her hands jerked helplessly.
A man entered from the hallway.
Gray hair.
Expensive dark suit.
Cold blue eyes.
Preston Whitmore.
He crouched in front of Margaret.
“It's been a long time.”
Margaret struggled.
Preston smiled.
“Your husband should have understood that some secrets stay buried.”
He turned to the nurse.
“Bring her.”
Minutes later, a black medical transport van left through the mansion's service gate using authorization documents bearing Sebastian's name.
At the hospital, Olivia's phone buzzed.
A video appeared.
Margaret sat tied to her wheelchair in a dark room.
Preston Whitmore stood behind her.
His hand rested on her shoulder.
“Miss Parker,” he said pleasantly, “you've been asking too many questions.”
Margaret slowly raised one trembling hand.
Her fingers moved.
Olivia translated automatically.
Don't come.
Preston smiled at the camera.
“Tell Sebastian I have his mother. And tell him that if he wants to see her alive, he has exactly one hour to bring me the evidence from beneath Mercer Row.”
Then Margaret's hand moved again.
This time, the message was different.
May you like
Your father is not the only one they murdered.
The screen went black.
