Chapter 2 - The Eleven-Million-Dollar Ghost
Declan’s private office occupied the top floor of Shaw Maritime’s Chicago headquarters.
At 12:18 a.m., Clara stood before a wall-sized monitor while Marcus locked the office doors.
Declan loosened his cuffs.
“Show me.”
Clara opened the Harbor Twelve database.
“Rows four, seventeen, twenty-two.”
All three displayed the same status.
VACANT — MAINTENANCE HOLD.
Marcus folded his arms.
“So Sullivan wrote down empty container rows.”
“Maybe.”
Clara enlarged the records.
“Except this makes no sense.”
Declan stepped closer.
“What?”
“These maintenance holds were created by three different employees.”
“And?”
“One retired two years ago. One transferred to Detroit last year.”
She clicked the third name.
“And this man died eighteen months ago.”
Marcus’s expression changed.
Declan said quietly, “Someone is using dormant employee credentials.”
Clara searched deeper.
Her fingers moved quickly.
“There.”
A hidden routing entry appeared.
$2,840,000.
Then another.
$3,210,000.
Then $4,950,000.
Marcus swore.
Clara added them.
“Eleven million exactly.”
Declan’s face became unreadable.
“Destination?”
“Northlake Industrial Consulting.”
Marcus shook his head.
“Never heard of it.”
“I have.”
Both men looked at Clara.
She pulled up an email.
“Six months ago, Sullivan asked me to add Northlake as an approved emergency vendor.”
“Did you?”
“No.”
“Why?”
“They didn’t provide adequate insurance documentation.”
Declan stared at her.
“What happened?”
“Sullivan called me.”
“What did he say?”
Clara remembered every word.
“He told me secretaries shouldn’t make decisions above their salary.”
Marcus almost smiled.
“What did you tell him?”
“That compliance requirements didn’t change according to salary.”
This time Declan did smile.
Briefly.
“Then?”
“He stopped calling.”
Declan’s smile vanished.
“Because he found another way.”
Clara searched the approval logs.
Her stomach dropped.
“Declan.”
He moved beside her.
Northlake had been approved two days after Clara rejected it.
The authorization belonged to—
“Marcus Kane,” Clara whispered.
Silence filled the room.
Marcus stared at the screen.
“That wasn’t me.”
Declan looked at his operations chief.
Marcus slowly removed his phone and placed it on the desk.
“You know where I was that date.”
Declan did.
Marcus had been in Toronto.
Clara checked the login location.
“Chicago headquarters.”
Marcus’s jaw tightened.
“My credentials were cloned.”
“Or borrowed,” Declan said.
Marcus met his eyes.
“You think I stole from you?”
“I think eleven million disappeared.”
The two men stared at each other.
Clara interrupted.
“There’s something else.”
She examined the timestamp.
“2:06 a.m.”
Marcus frowned.
“So?”
“The system automatically sends a confirmation notice to the executive office whenever a vendor exceeding one million dollars is approved.”
Declan turned toward her.
“I never received one.”
“Neither did I.”
Clara searched the notification log.
Deleted.
But whoever deleted it had made one mistake.
The email archive retained metadata.
Clara recovered the destination.
Her own address.
The notification had reached her inbox.
Then someone had deleted it.
Declan’s voice became dangerously quiet.
“Who has access to your email?”
“Nobody.”
“Think.”
Clara did.
Then she remembered.
“IT administrators.”
Marcus immediately called the technology director.
No answer.
Again.
Nothing.
Declan said, “Where does he live?”
Marcus was already moving.
Then Clara’s phone rang.
Unknown number.
Declan held out his hand.
“Give it to me.”
“It’s my phone.”
“Clara.”
She answered herself.
“Hello?”
Silence.
Then a man spoke.
“Ms. Hayes.”
Clara recognized the voice.
Victor Sullivan.
Declan stepped closer.
Sullivan continued.
“You should have stayed at your little desk.”
Clara’s hand tightened around the phone.
“Where are you?”
“Doesn’t matter.”
“What happened to the eleven million?”
Silence.
Then Sullivan laughed softly.
“You really are smarter than you look.”
Declan’s expression changed.
Clara ignored him.
“You used Northlake.”
“Go home, Clara.”
“You accessed my personnel file.”
Another silence.
That was confirmation enough.
Sullivan’s voice lowered.
“Walk away from Shaw Maritime tomorrow morning. I’ll make sure your mother’s mortgage disappears.”
Clara went cold.
Declan heard it.
Every trace of emotion vanished from his face.
Clara whispered, “You stay away from my mother.”
“Then stop digging.”
The call ended.
Declan took the phone.
“Marcus.”
“Already on it.”
“Send people to Aurora.”
Clara grabbed Declan’s arm.
“No.”
He looked down at her hand.
She released him.
“My mother doesn’t know anything about this world.”
“She doesn’t need to.”
“You cannot send armed strangers to her house.”
“I can send two employees in plain clothes to watch the street.”
“Declan—”
“He knows where your mother lives.”
His voice softened.
“That changes the rules.”
Clara looked away.
“Because of you.”
“Yes.”
Again, he didn’t defend himself.
“I’m sorry.”
She looked at him.
Declan Shaw almost never apologized.
“You should go home,” he said.
“Absolutely not.”
“Clara.”
“Sullivan just offered to pay my mother’s mortgage because he thinks I can expose him.”
She sat at the computer.
May you like
“So let’s find out why he’s that scared.”
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