Chapter five: Reassigned

"Dead?" Ava's voice cracked on the word. "What do you mean, dead?"

Her father did not look at her. His eyes stayed locked on Liam, and the black folder shook in his bloody hand.

"Ask your husband."

Liam did not move. "Grant."

Grant stepped between them, one broad hand raised. "Mr. Hart, put the folder down."

"Not until he tells her what he did."

"I haven't touched Clara," Liam said coldly.

"Liar!" Her father's voice broke across the room. "She called me an hour before the wedding. She said you had locked her in a car outside the hotel. She said you wanted her files and you would not let her leave."

Ava turned to Liam. His face did not change, and somehow that frightened her more than anger would have.

"Is that true?"

"No."

"She was alive when she called," her father went on, and his voice dropped, shaking now. "I went to the service entrance to find her. A black car was waiting there. A man pulled her inside, and I ran after it. I got this."

He held up his injured hand. The handkerchief was soaked through.

"I broke the window with my fist. All I got was this."

With his other hand he pulled something from the folder. It was a scarf, pale blue silk, stained dark along one edge.

Ava knew it at once. She had given it to Clara for her twenty-fifth birthday.

Her knees nearly gave out. She grabbed the back of a chair. "That's blood."

"Her blood." Her father's eyes were wet. "She's gone, Ava. And that man took her because of the files."

The room was silent except for Grant's breathing.

Ava stared at the scarf. She wanted to scream, and she wanted to believe him, and at the same time a cold voice in her head kept speaking. Her father had been in the photograph. Her father had followed Clara before she ever reached the car.

And Clara had messaged her, alive, a minute ago.

Don't tell Liam what I told you.

She said nothing. Her phone sat heavy in her pocket like a stone.

Liam took one step forward. "Show me the folder."

"Never."

"Mr. Hart."

"You think I'm giving you the proof so you can burn it like you burned everything else?"

Liam's eyes narrowed. "Like I burned what?"

Her father went quiet. It was only for a moment, but Ava saw it. He had said too much.

Liam saw it too.

"Grant, take the folder."

Grant moved before her father could react. He caught the old man's wrist and twisted the folder free. Her father cursed and struggled, but he was no match for a man twice his strength.

Grant handed the folder to Liam.

"Don't," her father said, panting. "Ava, don't let him..."

Liam opened it. Ava watched his face as he read the first page. Then the second. A muscle moved in his jaw.

"What is it?" she asked.

He did not answer. He turned the page toward her instead.

It was a bank transfer record, twenty million dollars, moved in four equal parts from a Blackwood Holdings account to an overseas account in a name she did not recognize. At the bottom of the page was an approval signature.

Liam Blackwood.

Ava's mouth went dry. "That's your signature."

"It isn't mine."

"It says your name."

"It's forged."

"Of course you'd say that."

"Ava." His voice was low and steady. "Look at the date."

She looked. The transfer had been approved fourteen months ago.

"I was in Geneva for all of that month," he said. "I have flight records, hotel receipts, and eleven witnesses. Whoever made this did not know my schedule."

"Or you made it look that way."

"If I stole twenty million dollars, why would I hunt for the person holding the proof?"

The question hung in the air. Ava hated that it made sense.

"Clara found this," her father said weakly. "She found it in his father's old office and she was going to take it to the police. That is why they took her."

"Who is they?" Ava demanded.

He pressed his lips together and looked away.

"Who, Dad?"

"I don't know."

"You always say that."

"Because it's true!"

"No." She stepped toward him. "You followed her out of the hotel. You met Victor Blackwood three times this month. You paid for Mom's treatment with money you don't have. And you want me to believe you know nothing?"

His face crumpled, and for the first time in her life she saw her father look small.

"I did it for your mother," he whispered. "Victor offered to clear her name. He said if I helped him, he would prove she never stole anything."

Ava's breath stopped. "Helped him do what?"

"He only wanted me to bring Clara to Liam's wedding. That was all. He said Clara was the only one who could get close enough to the files."

"You used Clara."

"I used both of you!" His voice broke. "God forgive me, I used both of you. Victor said no one would get hurt."

The words landed like a slap. Ava could not speak. All her life she had thought her father simply did not care. It had never crossed her mind that he might be capable of selling his daughters.

Liam spoke softly, almost without anger. "So Victor needed Clara to steal the files from my father's office."

"Yes."

"And when she ran, he sent someone to take her."

Her father covered his face with his good hand. "I never agreed to that."

"But you knew it was possible."

He did not answer. That was enough.

Ava's chest burned. She had spent the night begging for the truth, and now that it stood in front of her, it was worse than any lie.

"Get him out," she said quietly.

Grant looked at Liam. Liam nodded.

"Ava," her father said hoarsely, "please. Your mother..."

"Don't say her name." Her voice shook. "You don't get to say her name."

Grant led him to the door. Her father looked back once, his eyes red and terrified, and then the door closed behind him.

The room felt very quiet.

Ava sat down slowly, because her legs would no longer hold her. Liam crouched in front of her, so close that she could see the tiredness under his eyes.

"I'm sorry," he said.

"You said you didn't believe in guilt."

"I don't. This is different."

She laughed weakly and wiped her face with the back of her hand. "I think I hate everyone tonight."

"That is a reasonable position."

"Do you believe him? About Clara being dead?"

Liam glanced at the scarf on the table. "I believe the blood is real. I don't believe it's hers."

"Why?"

"Because someone wanted you to see it. Someone wanted Clara to look dead." He paused. "Which means she may be alive and hiding."

Ava's heart jumped. She stared at the floor, thinking of the messages. Don't tell Liam. Run.

She had to decide whether to trust him. Everyone else in her life had lied to her tonight, and he had at least told her the truth about his threats. But Clara had begged her to keep silent.

"Liam," she said slowly. "If Clara was alive, would you want to hurt her?"

His eyes stayed on hers. "No."

"Even if she stole from you?"

"She took the files that prove my uncle's guilt. I want her alive more than anyone."

She wanted to believe him. God help her, she wanted to.

Then his phone rang.

He glanced at the screen and frowned. "Dr. Price. The hospital."

Ava's whole body went cold. "Put it on speaker."

He answered. "Dr. Price."

A man's voice came through, polite and smooth, the voice of someone who never raised it. "Mr. Blackwood, I'm sorry to call so late. There has been a problem with your mother-in-law's case."

"What problem?"

"Mrs. Hart's donor heart has been reassigned."

Ava's hand flew to her mouth.

"Reassigned," Liam said slowly. "By whom?"

"By the transplant committee. A higher-priority patient became available."

"Mrs. Hart is at the top of the list."

"She was." The doctor paused. "The change order was signed an hour ago, and it carries the authorization of the Blackwood family trust."

Liam's face went white.

"Whose signature?" he asked.

"Yours, Mr. Blackwood."

The line went quiet. Ava stared at Liam, and Liam stared at the phone, and in the silence she heard the same soft, polite voice again.

"The surgery is canceled. Your wife may want to come say goodbye to her mother."