“That’s ironic.”
Marcus looked at her.
“Why?”
“Yesterday I called the police because I thought I was protecting everybody from you.”
He said nothing.
Eleanor looked down.
“That was wrong.”
“Yes.”
The simplicity of his answer hurt more than anger would have.
“I’m sorry.”
Marcus nodded.
“We can discuss that later.”
“Not accepted?”
“Not yet.”
Fair.
They left Eleanor’s house and drove to a coffee shop outside Bellwood.
Public.
Bright.
Crowded.
She sat opposite him.
“Why did you let me stay involved?”
Marcus thought.
“You know Bellwood.”
“That can't be the only reason.”
“No.”
“What else?”
He looked at her.
“You notice people.”
Eleanor almost laughed.
“That didn’t exactly work well with you.”
“It worked perfectly.”
She frowned.
“You saw someone you believed didn't belong.”
“Yes.”
“You were wrong about me.”
“Yes.”
Marcus leaned forward.
“But Bellwood actually does contain people who don't belong in the positions they occupy.”
She understood.
“I was looking in the wrong direction.”
“Yes.”
The next morning, federal agents entered Bellwood.
Harold was gone.
His house was empty.
His office cleared.
Daniel had disappeared too.
The missing server drive was gone.
Eleanor looked toward Marcus.
“Did they run?”
“Maybe.”
“Together?”
“I don't know.”
Marcus looked toward the orchard.
Then he remembered Thomas Bell’s notebook.
Tunnel entrance.
The federal agents secured the area.
They found the entrance beneath an old storage structure hidden among the orchard trees.
Concrete steps descended underground.
The tunnel smelled damp and old.
At the far end stood a steel door.
Inside:
Shelves.
File cabinets.
Old drives.
Tapes.
Paper records.
The room was mostly empty.
Recently emptied.
But one envelope remained on a desk.
Marcus Reed.
Inside:
YOU ARE LOOKING FOR THE WRONG SECRET.
Second line:
BELLWOOD WAS NEVER ABOUT THE LAND.
Marcus looked around.
Then saw the wall.
A map.
Every house.
Every resident.
Colored lines connecting people to employers, businesses, courts, elected officials, banks, contractors, and one another.
Eleanor stepped closer.
Her own name appeared.
PRICE, ELEANOR — SOCIAL ACCESS / BOARD PROXIMITY / HIGH INFORMATION VALUE / LOW FINANCIAL RISK.
She felt sick.
“They had a file on me.”
Marcus nodded.
“Everybody.”
Bellwood’s real asset was not land.
It was its residents.
Chapter Seven: Daniel Cross
One file differed from the others.
Daniel Cross.
Almost blank.
No risk score.
No personal vulnerabilities.
Only one handwritten word:
LEGACY.
Marcus searched adjoining records.
Then found Charles Mercer.
Daniel’s father.
Next to his name:
DEFECTOR.
Another page showed a photograph.
Charles Mercer.
Thomas Bell.
Harold’s father.
And a fourth man.
Marcus knew the face.
Arthur Vale.
Seventy now.
Founder of Vale Meridian Capital.