Chapter 9 - THE NIGHT THE HARBOR WENT DARK
The trouble began at 11:42 p.m.
A security alarm sounded at Romano Harbor Terminal Four.
Within minutes, three surveillance feeds went dark.
A warehouse fire alarm activated.
And Victor Salerno disappeared.
Damian was in his office when the call came.
His head of security, Anthony Bellini, spoke quickly.
“Boss, we have a situation.”
Damian stood.
“What kind?”
“Terminal Four. Possible sabotage.”
Damian's face hardened.
“Evacuate everyone. Call the fire department.”
For years, Damian's first instinct would have been to send armed men.
That night, he called emergency services.
Then his attorneys.
Then the independent investigators reviewing the company's accounts.
He drove to the harbor but remained outside the restricted perimeter.
Firefighters moved through the terminal.
Workers gathered near the gates.
Police blocked the road.
Anthony approached.
“Victor's office is empty.”
Damian stared.
“His phone?”
“Off.”
“His vehicle?”
“Gone.”
Damian looked toward the warehouse.
The fire had been contained quickly.
No one was injured.
But investigators found evidence of deliberate interference with security equipment.
Then Anthony handed Damian a printed message.
It had arrived through an internal company account.
Your wife knows more than you think.
Damian stared.
For a moment, the old suspicion returned.
The instinct to question me.
To demand answers.
To assume someone else knew my motives better than I did.
Then he folded the paper.
“Give that to the investigators.”
Anthony hesitated.
“Boss, what about Emma?”
Damian looked at him.
“Emma has her own attorney.”
Anthony nodded.
Damian continued.
“And nobody approaches her without her permission.”
The next morning, Rebecca called me.
“Emma, Victor may be trying to implicate you.”
I swallowed.
“Why?”
“Because your name is on the account.”
I stared at the documents spread across the table.
Then remembered something.
Two years earlier, Victor had insisted I attend a charity luncheon at the harbor.
He'd asked me to sign a guest register.
He'd taken photographs.
He'd made sure I stood beside several executives.
At the time, I'd thought he was being unusually attentive.
Now I understood.
He'd been creating a record.
A trail that made me look involved.
I called Rebecca back.
“I remember something.”
She listened.
Then she said:
“Emma, that could be important.”
May you like
For the first time, I wasn't simply defending myself against a lie.
I was helping expose how it had been built.
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