Chapter 4: The Men At The Garage
THE MEN AT THE GARAGE
Four men stepped out of the black SUV.
None wore uniforms.
All wore dark coats.
Michael killed the remaining lights in the repair bays.
The garage sank into darkness except for the weak orange glow from the alley security lamp.
Willow's heart hammered.
"Who are they?"
"I do not know."
Michael carried the steel box toward the rear workbench.
"Take off your heels."
"What?"
"Now."
Willow kicked them off.
Michael lifted a rubber mat and opened a narrow floor hatch Willow had never seen.
Beneath it was a service trench connecting the main garage to the old paint storage room.
"Get in."
"I am not hiding while you stay here."
"I am not staying here."
He handed her the box.
"Move."
A knock struck the front glass.
Three hard taps.
Michael climbed into the trench after her.
They crouched in darkness while another knock sounded.
"Mr. Donovan?"
A man's voice carried through the locked office.
"We need to speak with you about stolen Sterling property."
Willow looked at Michael.
He put one finger to his lips.
The front door rattled.
"We know you are inside."
Michael guided Willow through the trench.
The concrete was cold beneath her stocking feet.
Her anniversary gown dragged through dust and oil.
Some distant part of her mind wanted to laugh at what Richard would think of the silk now.
Another part wanted to burn every Sterling gift she had ever accepted.
Glass shattered at the front of the shop.
Willow flinched.
Michael whispered.
"Keep moving."
They reached the paint room.
Michael pushed open the hatch and helped her out.
A rusted side door led to the alley.
He unlocked it without turning on a light.
"My truck is out front."
"Then what?"
"We use something they do not know about."
He pointed to a dusty green Buick parked behind the building beneath a tarp.
"You still have Grandpa's car?"
"Your grandfather's Buick has been ugly for forty-two years."
Michael pulled away the tarp.
"That makes it useful."
They slid into the car.
The engine protested before turning over.
Inside the garage, something heavy crashed.
Willow hugged the steel box against her chest.
"They are breaking everything."
"Things can be repaired."
Michael put the Buick into gear.
"People are harder."
They left through the alley without headlights.
At the end of the block, Michael turned them on and merged into traffic.
Willow looked back.
The black SUV remained outside the shop.
"Where are we going?"
"To someone Richard does not own."
"Who?"
"A retired judge."
Willow stared at him.
"You have a retired judge?"
"Your mother did."
"Of course she did."
Michael glanced at her.
"You are allowed to be angry at us both."
"Good."
"I mean it."
"I know."
Willow looked down at the box.
"I just wish Mom were here so I could yell at her too."
Michael's eyes brightened.
"She would have let you."
They drove north for twenty minutes.
Willow's phone rang twice more.
She ignored Lucas.
Then a different number appeared.
UNKNOWN CALLER.
She answered before Michael could stop her.
"Hello?"
A woman's voice came through.
"Willow Sterling?"
"Who is this?"
"My name is Amanda Vale."
Willow sat upright.
Michael looked at her.
Amanda continued.
"I used to be married to Lucas."
Willow's throat tightened.
"How did you get my number?"
"Helena Price gave it to me."
"You know Helena?"
"No."
Amanda sounded strained.
"She found me twenty minutes ago."
"Why?"
"Because someone sent her a message telling her to contact me if you left Lucas tonight."
Willow looked at Michael.
"Who sent the message?"
"I do not know."
"What do you want?"
Amanda was silent long enough that Willow could hear traffic through the phone.
"To tell you I am sorry."
Willow's anger rose instantly.
"For what?"
"For saying nothing."
"About what?"
Amanda inhaled.
"About why Lucas married you."
Willow closed her eyes.
"I already know Richard sent him to meet me."
"That is not all."
Michael tightened his grip on the steering wheel.
Willow forced herself to ask.
"What else?"
Amanda's voice dropped.
"Lucas was still married to me when Richard first showed him your photograph."
Willow felt the blood leave her face.
"What?"
"Our divorce was not final."
Amanda continued quickly.
"Richard told Lucas that if he married Claire Mercer's daughter and kept her inside the family for five years, he would inherit control of Sterling Global."
Willow could not speak.
"He told Lucas the marriage would solve an old ownership problem."
Amanda's voice shook.
"Lucas agreed before he ever met you."
Michael swore.
Willow pressed a hand against the dashboard.
"Why did you not tell me?"
"I tried once."
"When?"
"At that charity auction three years ago."
Willow remembered Amanda approaching her near the staircase.
Lucas had appeared before Amanda could speak.
His face had changed.
Amanda had left.
"You could have called me."
"Richard threatened my younger brother's medical practice."
"So you let me stay."
Amanda's voice cracked.
"Yes."
Willow stared through the windshield.
"Everybody keeps protecting me by leaving me inside the cage."
Amanda did not defend herself.
"I have proof."
Willow turned.
"What kind of proof?"
"A recording."
Michael spoke toward the phone.
"Of what?"
Amanda paused.
"Richard explaining the plan to Lucas."
Michael nearly missed a turn.
"How old?"
"Six years."
"Where is it?"
"Not with me."
Willow laughed bitterly.
"Of course not."
"I hid it in a safe deposit box."
Amanda sounded desperate.
"I was afraid."
"And now?"
"Now I am more afraid of what happens if Richard succeeds."
Willow looked at the clock on the Buick's dashboard.
One twenty-seven in the morning.
"Where are you?"
"At my apartment in Evanston."
"Stay there."
Michael shook his head.
Willow ignored him.
"We will call you when we are secure."
Amanda's next words stopped her.
"You are not secure."
"What does that mean?"
"Richard has access to Sterling Shield."
Michael's face hardened.
Sterling Shield was the private security company used by the family offices, hotels, warehouses, and executives.
Amanda continued.
"They can track the location of every Sterling-issued phone."
Willow looked down at the device in her hand.
Lucas had given it to her three months earlier after claiming her old phone was outdated.
Michael immediately reached for it.
"Turn it off."
Willow did.
Amanda spoke faster.
"Remove the SIM."
Michael shook his head.
"Battery is sealed."
He lowered Willow's window.
"Sorry."
He took the phone and threw it onto the dark shoulder of Lake Shore Drive.
Willow watched it disappear.
Amanda was gone with it.
They drove another ten minutes before Michael turned into a narrow residential street near Wilmette.
He parked behind a brick house with dark windows.
Before they reached the porch, a light came on.
The front door opened.
An elderly Black woman stood in the doorway wearing a navy robe and holding a baseball bat.
Michael stopped.
"Judge Carter."
The woman lowered the bat an inch.
"Michael Donovan."
She looked at Willow's gown, bare feet, bruised cheek, and steel box.
"I assume this is not a social call."
"No, ma'am."
"Then get inside before whoever followed you catches up."
Michael turned.
A pair of headlights had just appeared at the far end of the street.
Judge Eleanor Carter locked the door behind them.
She led them into a library lined with law books and family photographs.
Willow placed the steel box on a table.
Judge Carter stared at it for a long moment.
"Claire's box."
Willow looked at her.
"You knew my mother?"
"Very well."
"Did everyone know my mother except me?"
Judge Carter's expression softened.
"No."
She sat across from Willow.
"But everyone who did know her underestimated how long she could plan."
Michael opened the box.
Judge Carter examined the partnership agreement, the stock certificate, and the trust memorandum.
Her eyes narrowed.
"These are not enough."
Michael nodded.
"I know."
Willow stared between them.
"Not enough for what?"
"To prove current ownership."
Judge Carter tapped the certificate.
"A certificate without the complete stock ledger is ammunition, not victory."
Michael reached for the blue notebook.
"The secondary ledger was moved in 2008."
"Moved where?"
"That is the problem."
Judge Carter looked at Willow.
"Your mother split the evidence."
"Why?"
"So no one person could betray all of it."
Judge Carter turned to Michael.
"Where is the ledger?"
"Claire never told me."
"Then who did she tell?"
Michael was silent.
Judge Carter's eyes sharpened.
"Michael."
"She said the final custodian would contact us only if Willow became aware of the marriage scheme."
Willow stared at him.
"How would this mysterious person know?"
Judge Carter answered before Michael could.
"Because Claire designed the trigger around public evidence."
Willow's face tightened.
"The slap."
"Possibly."
Judge Carter looked toward the dark television in the corner.
"If the video is already circulating, the custodian may know."
A knock sounded at the front door.
Everyone froze.
Three measured knocks.
Judge Carter reached for the baseball bat again.
Michael moved Willow behind him.
The knock came again.
Then a woman's voice called through the door.
"Judge Carter, my name is Rebecca Shaw."
Judge Carter went completely still.
Michael whispered.
"Do you know her?"
The judge looked at Willow.
"I know the name."
"Who is she?"
Judge Carter's face lost its color.
"She was your mother's corporate secretary."
Willow stared at her.
"The one who disappeared?"
Judge Carter nodded.
Outside, Rebecca Shaw knocked a third time.
"Willow, if you are in there, Richard Sterling has already sent people for the ledger."
Her voice trembled through the wood.
Judge Carter remained beside the locked door while Rebecca waited outside.
Willow could hear the woman breathing through the wood between knocks.
Michael moved closer to the peephole.
"If it is really her, why now?"
Judge Carter kept her hand on the bat.
"Because Claire built timing into everything."
"That is not reassuring."
"Claire was not reassuring."
A faint smile touched the judge's face.
"She was exhausting."
Willow looked at her.
"What was she like?"
Judge Carter's expression changed.
The question seemed to catch her in a place the legal documents had not reached.
"Stubborn."
"I have heard that."
"Impatient."
"Also heard that."
"Terrible at admitting fear."
Michael looked away.
Judge Carter continued.
"She wore expensive perfume she could not afford and lied about what it cost."
Willow smiled despite herself.
"She sang every song half a note flat."
Michael quietly said, "A full note."
"Half."
"Eleanor, I lived with her."
"And I had functioning ears."
For a few seconds, the room warmed.
Then Rebecca knocked again.
The past returned to the door.
Willow looked at Michael.
"Did Mom know Rebecca disappeared?"
"Claire was already dead."
"Would she have expected it?"
Judge Carter answered.
"She expected all of us to fail in different ways."
Willow frowned.
"That is depressing."
"It was practical."
The judge looked at the steel box.
"Claire never trusted a plan that required one person to remain brave forever."
Michael nodded slowly.
"That is why she split the evidence."
"Exactly."
Willow looked toward the door.
"Then maybe Rebecca coming back is part of the plan surviving someone being afraid."
Judge Carter studied her.
"That sounds like your mother."
The words landed differently this time.
Not as a comparison to a dead woman Willow barely knew.
As evidence that something of Claire had survived in her without permission or instruction.
Outside, Rebecca called again.
"I do not have much time."
May you like
Judge Carter finally reached for the lock.
"And if we do not move before sunrise, he will erase the last proof your mother left behind."
