Scarsdale looked different in the daylight.
The last time Victoria had been here, the streets had been quiet, tree-lined, expensive. Now they felt exposed. Every car that passed could be a watcher. Every window could hide a pair of eyes.
Nathaniel drove the gray sedan—they'd retrieved it from the parking garage near the metro, risking exposure because they had no other option. Victoria sat in the passenger seat, her eyes scanning the mirrors.
"Pull over two blocks before her house," she said.
"You think someone's watching Elena?"
"I think someone's watching everyone we've ever talked to."
Nathaniel nodded. He found a spot on a side street, killed the engine, and turned to her.
"We walk from here. Stay off the main roads."
They walked in silence. The neighborhood was waking up—residents leaving for work, nannies pushing strollers, dogs being walked. No one looked at them twice.
Elena Chan's townhouse was at the end of a cul-de-sac. The curtains were drawn. The garage door was closed. No cars in the driveway.
Victoria rang the bell.
A moment later, Elena opened the door. She looked older than she had a week ago. Dark circles under her eyes. Her hair was pulled back in a hasty ponytail. She wore a bathrobe over pajamas, as if she hadn't planned to see anyone today.
"Come in," she said. "Quickly."
They stepped inside. Elena locked the door behind them—deadbolt, chain, a second deadbolt Victoria hadn't noticed before.
"You've added security," Nathaniel said.
"I've added a lot of things." Elena led them to the living room. The same family photos lined the walls. Richard's smile, frozen in time. "Someone broke into my house three nights ago."
Victoria felt her stomach tighten. "What did they take?"
"Nothing. That's what scared me. They weren't here to steal. They were here to send a message." Elena sat on the couch, pulling her bathrobe tighter around her. "I've been sleeping with a baseball bat under my bed."
"Did you call the police?"
"Of course I called the police. They took a report. They said it was probably kids. But I know it wasn't kids. Kids don't disable your security cameras before they break in."
Nathaniel sat across from her. "Elena, we need Olivia Park's address. And anything else Richard left behind."
Elena looked at him. Her eyes were wet.
"Diana Reyes is dead," she said. "I saw it on the news this morning. Car accident. They said she lost control on the Beltway."
"It wasn't an accident."
"I know." Elena wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. "Richard told me. Before he died. He said if anything happened to him, I shouldn't trust anyone. He said they would come for me too."
"But they haven't."
"Not yet." She stood up. "Wait here."
She left the room. Victoria heard footsteps on the stairs, then the creak of a floorboard overhead.
Nathaniel leaned toward Victoria. "She's scared."
"She should be."
Elena returned with a cardboard box. She set it on the coffee table. Inside were files, notebooks, and a laptop—older than the one they'd found in the storage unit.
"Richard kept everything," Elena said. "He was paranoid. He thought if he had enough evidence, he'd be safe. But it didn't save him, did it?"
"No," Victoria said quietly. "It didn't."
Elena sat down again. She pulled a file from the box and handed it to Victoria.
"Olivia Park's address. She lives in Arlington. A small apartment near the courthouse. Richard met with her twice. He said she was thinking about coming forward."
Victoria opened the file. Inside were photographs, bank statements, and a handwritten note from Richard.
"Olivia has the keys to the kingdom. If I die, find her. She knows where the bodies are buried."
"Bodies," Victoria repeated. "Not money. Bodies."
"Richard wasn't talking about literal bodies," Elena said. "He was talking about evidence. Evidence that could put Webb in prison for the rest of his life."
Nathaniel took the file. "We need to get to her before Webb does."
"You need to be careful. If Webb finds out you're talking to Olivia, he'll kill her. And then he'll kill you."
"He's already trying."
Elena looked at Victoria. "You loved your father very much, didn't you?"
The question caught Victoria off guard. "Yes."
"Richard loved our children. He would have done anything to protect them. That's why he didn't run. That's why he stayed. He thought if he kept working for Webb, kept playing along, his family would be safe."
"But they weren't."
"No." Elena's voice cracked. "They weren't."
---
They stayed for another hour, going through the box.
Elena made tea. Victoria flipped through Richard's notebooks—dense, handwritten, filled with codes and abbreviations she didn't understand. Nathaniel photographed every page with his burner phone.
"Richard was a genius," Nathaniel said. "A twisted, paranoid genius. But a genius."
"He was a good man," Elena said. "He made mistakes. The affair with Nora... I knew about it. I didn't say anything because I thought if I confronted him, he'd leave. And I couldn't lose him."
Victoria looked up. "You knew?"
"I knew. He told me. After Nora died. He came home one night and he was crying. He said he'd done something terrible. He said he'd gotten someone killed."
"He blamed himself for Nora's death."
"He blamed himself for everything." Elena set down her teacup. "He wasn't a bad person. He was a weak person. There's a difference."
Victoria thought about Nathaniel. About the report he'd signed. About the ten years of silence.
"Sometimes the line between weak and bad is very thin," Victoria said.
Elena looked at her. "Yes. It is."
---
They left at noon.
Elena walked them to the door. She didn't say goodbye. She just locked the deadbolts behind them and pulled the curtains closed.
Nathaniel and Victoria walked back to the sedan in silence.
"Arlington," Nathaniel said when they were inside. "Olivia Park's apartment. We go now?"
"We wait. We need to scout the location first. Make sure it's not a trap."
"How do we do that without being seen?"
Victoria pulled out her phone—the burner, still working. "We call Fiona."
"Fiona? Diana's contact?"
"She's all we have left."
She dialed. Fiona answered on the second ring.
"Victoria. I heard about Diana."
"Then you know why I'm calling."
"I know. I also know you're in way over your head."
"Can you help us or not?"
A pause. "I can help. But it's going to cost you."
"Name your price."
"Not money. Information. When this is over, I want exclusive access to the files. Every name. Every transaction. I'm going to write a book."
Victoria looked at Nathaniel. He nodded.
"Done," Victoria said.
"Olivia Park's apartment. 1420 Wilson Boulevard. Third floor, unit 3B. She works from home on Fridays. She should be there now."
"How do we get in without being seen?"
"There's a service entrance on the side of the building. Take the stairs. Avoid the cameras. And Victoria?"
"What?"
"Don't trust anyone. Not even me."
The line went dead.
---
They drove to Arlington.
The apartment building was nondescript—brick, five stories, a small lobby with a security desk. Victoria spotted the service entrance on the side, just as Fiona had said.
Nathaniel parked in a lot across the street. They watched the building for fifteen minutes. No one entered or left.
"I'll go alone," Victoria said.
"No."
"She knows my name. She doesn't know yours. If Webb's people are watching, they'll be looking for a man. Not a woman."
Nathaniel's jaw tightened. "If you're not back in twenty minutes, I'm coming in."
"Fifteen."
She got out of the car and walked across the street.
The service entrance was unlocked. She climbed the stairs to the third floor, her footsteps silent on the concrete. The hallway was empty.
Unit 3B. She knocked.
No answer.
She knocked again.
"Olivia? My name is Victoria Hart. I'm a friend of Richard Chan's."
A long pause. Then the door opened a crack. A chain was still on.
Olivia Park was younger than Victoria expected—early thirties, with dark hair and eyes that had seen too much. She wore jeans and a sweater, like she hadn't planned to leave the house.
"Richard is dead," Olivia said.
"I know. I'm trying to find out who killed him."
"And why should I trust you?"
"Because I'm the only person who's still alive and asking questions."
Olivia stared at her for a long moment. Then she closed the door, slid off the chain, and opened it again.
"Come in. Quickly."
Victoria stepped inside.
The apartment was small, cluttered, and smelled like coffee. Stacks of paper covered every surface. A whiteboard on the wall was covered with names and arrows.
Olivia closed the door and locked it.
"You're not safe here," Victoria said.
"I know. I've known for months." Olivia walked to the whiteboard and tapped a name at the center. "Marcus Webb. He's the devil. And Richard was his accountant. And I was Richard's assistant."
"You helped him hide the money?"
"I helped him find the money. There's a difference." Olivia turned to face Victoria. "I have everything. Every transaction. Every email. Every recording. I've been waiting for someone to come. I wa
s starting to think no one would."
Victoria pulled out her phone. "I need to make a call."
"To who?"
"To someone who wants to put Webb in prison as much as you do."
She dialed Nathaniel.
"Come up," she said. "We found her."