Chapter 4 - THE NINE HUNDRED DOLLAR TRAP
Victor Voss didn't deny recognizing the man in the video.
Instead, he folded his hands.
"Caleb handles dozens of errands every morning. I can't explain why he was near Aldridge Street."
Nathaniel pointed at the screen.
"He wasn't near Aldridge Street, Victor. He placed my stolen wallet beneath a bus bench."
Victor looked at Marcus.
"Are we certain the wallet was stolen?"
Marcus nodded.
"Mr. Graves reported it missing from his desk."
"And you think Caleb stole it?"
"I think he had it," Marcus answered.
Mom stepped forward.
"Why would your assistant leave nine hundred dollars where my little girl could find it?"
Victor studied her.
"Perhaps you're asking the wrong question, Evelyn."
"What does that mean?"
"Perhaps somebody wanted Nathaniel to see your daughter."
I felt Mom stiffen.
Nathaniel's expression darkened.
"Who?"
Victor spread his hands.
"That's what we should investigate."
It was a clever answer.
Even I understood that.
He hadn't explained anything. He'd simply made everyone more afraid.
Marcus ordered Caleb located immediately.
Within minutes, security discovered that Caleb had turned off his company phone and returned his identification badge to the parking office.
Victor seemed genuinely surprised.
"That's unacceptable," he said. "I'll have him dismissed."
Nathaniel stared at him.
"You're not dismissing anyone until he's questioned."
Victor's face tightened.
"Nathaniel, you're making serious accusations against people who've served this company for years."
"And someone used my granddaughter to get to me."
For the first time, Victor had no immediate reply.
Mom took my hand.
"We're leaving."
Nathaniel turned.
"Evelyn, please."
"No. Ruby has been frightened enough."
He looked at me.
I knew he wanted me to stay.
Part of me wanted that too.
I'd just discovered I had a grandfather. I didn't want him to disappear before I learned anything about him.
But Mom's hand was shaking.
"Can we go home?" I asked.
Nathaniel nodded.
"Of course."
Then he spoke to Marcus.
"Arrange transportation. Nothing with the company logo. Keep it discreet."
Mom shook her head.
"We can take the bus."
"Someone deliberately targeted Ruby this morning," he answered. "Let me make sure you get home safely."
She looked ready to refuse.
Then she glanced at me.
"Fine. But that's all."
Victor checked his watch.
"Before you leave, Evelyn, there's the matter of your apartment."
Mom stopped.
"What about it?"
"The evacuation remains necessary. Our engineers believe part of the foundation is unstable."
"Then repair it."
Victor sighed.
"Repairs require access, money, and cooperation. Your building has a history of residents refusing temporary relocation."
"Because your idea of relocation is giving families a bus ticket and no place to sleep."
Nathaniel looked at him sharply.
"Is that true?"
Victor didn't answer directly.
"We have a relocation budget."
"Show it to me."
"Certainly."
"Today."
Something ugly passed across Victor's face.
Then he smiled.
"As you wish."
He walked toward the elevator.
But before the doors closed, he looked at me.
"You're a very honest little girl, Ruby."
I didn't like the way he said it.
Mom noticed.
She guided me toward the opposite hallway.
Near the entrance, Lenora approached us.
"Mrs. Miller?"
Mom turned.
Lenora seemed nervous.
"I owe your daughter an apology."
"You certainly do."
"I treated her like she didn't belong here. That was wrong."
I stared at the polished floor.
Lenora crouched to my height.
"I'm sorry, Ruby."
"Okay."
She swallowed.
"There's something else."
Nathaniel stepped closer.
Lenora lowered her voice.
"This morning, I received an internal instruction about a child who might come into the lobby."
Marcus looked up.
"What instruction?"
"Security was supposed to escort her to a private waiting room. No visitors. No outside calls."
Mom's face lost color.
"From whom?"
"Executive operations."
"Victor's department?" Nathaniel asked.
Lenora nodded.
"I didn't follow it because she refused to give me the wallet. I thought she was another child sent here by someone hoping for money."
"You threatened to throw her out," Mom said.
"I did. I was wrong."
Lenora's eyes filled.
"But when she refused to leave, I kept her at the front desk. I wasn't going to let two guards take a frightened child somewhere I couldn't see."
Nathaniel looked toward Marcus.
"Preserve that instruction."
Lenora nodded.
"I already forwarded a copy to security."
Mom studied her for a moment.
Then she said quietly, "Thank you for telling us."
Lenora stepped aside.
Outside, a plain black sedan waited.
Mom insisted on sitting beside me in the back seat.
Nathaniel surprised both of us by climbing into the front passenger seat.
"You're coming?" Mom asked.
"Until I know you're safe."
She looked out the window.
"Safety was never something you could buy, Dad."
He accepted that without argument.
For most of the drive, nobody spoke.
I watched enormous office buildings become small grocery stores, laundromats, and narrow streets crowded with parked cars.
Nathaniel studied everything.
"You've lived here long?" he asked.
"Six years," Mom replied.
"Why this neighborhood?"
"Because Daniel found work nearby. And because we could afford it."
I leaned toward the front seat.
"Daddy planted flowers outside our building."
Nathaniel turned.
"Did he?"
"Little yellow ones."
Mom smiled sadly.
"Marigolds."
"They come back every year," I added.
Nathaniel looked at her.
"Daniel sounds like he was a good man."
"He was," she whispered.
When we reached Aldridge Court, an ugly white truck was parked beside the curb.
Two men in work clothes were carrying cardboard boxes down the front steps.
Mom opened the car door before it stopped.
"Hey! What are you doing?"
One man turned.
"Property clearance."
"Nobody authorized you to touch our things!"
He glanced at a clipboard.
"Apartment 3B. Personal effects are being inventoried."
Nathaniel stepped out.
"Who issued that instruction?"
The worker looked irritated.
"Bellwether management."
"Stop."
The man studied Nathaniel's suit.
"Sir, you'll need to contact the office."
Nathaniel's voice hardened.
"I own the controlling interest in the company that owns this building. Put those boxes down."
The worker hesitated.
Marcus showed his security identification.
The boxes were lowered.
Mom rushed upstairs.
I followed until Nathaniel gently caught my shoulder.
"Stay close to Marcus, Ruby."
"But my stuff—"
"I'll go with your mother."
For a moment, I wanted to argue.
Then I saw how frightened he looked.
I stayed.
Several minutes later, Mom came downstairs holding my stuffed rabbit.
Its pink ribbon was missing.
"They opened every drawer," she said. "They went through Daniel's things."
Nathaniel looked furious.
"What did they take?"
Mom swallowed.
"His yellow work coat."
I stared at her.
"Why would they want Daddy's coat?"
She didn't answer.
Marcus checked the workers' inventory.
The coat wasn't listed.
"Someone removed it before this crew arrived," he said.
Mom leaned against the railing.
"Daniel always said he kept copies of important things."
"What things?" Nathaniel asked.
"Inspection reports. Photographs. Names of contractors."
"Did he tell you where?"
She shook her head.
"He said he had a safe place."
I suddenly remembered something.
That morning, when I'd packed my backpack, I'd slipped Daddy's old silver pocket watch into the small zipper compartment.
I sometimes carried it when I felt scared.
Mom didn't like me taking it outside because it was one of the few things we had left of him.
I reached inside my bag.
"Mommy?"
She turned.
"I have Daddy's watch."
Her eyes widened.
"Ruby, why did you bring that?"
"I wanted him with me."
She knelt and carefully took the watch.
The glass was cracked.
The hands had stopped at 4:17, just as they had on the day Daddy died.
Mom rubbed her thumb across its silver cover.
Then she noticed something.
A tiny strip of blue thread had been stitched beneath the leather carrying pouch.
"Daniel didn't sew like that," she whispered.
She carefully loosened one stitch.
A narrow folded paper slipped out.
On it were three handwritten words.
FOLLOW THE BLUEBIRD.
Mom went completely still.
Nathaniel leaned closer.
"Does that mean something to you?"
Mom slowly looked toward the basement windows of Aldridge Court.
"Daniel painted a bluebird on the laundry-room wall."
Then Marcus's radio crackled.
A guard stationed at the building entrance spoke urgently.
"Sir, the clearance crew just received an updated authorization. They're being told to finish before midnight."
Nathaniel demanded to see the order.
A photograph appeared on Marcus's tablet.
It contained the address, the clearance instructions, and an electronic signature.
Mom stared at it.
I looked from the screen to my grandfather.
May you like
At the bottom of the page, beneath the words AUTHORIZED PROPERTY OWNER, was a name I could read perfectly.
NATHANIEL GRAVES.
