Daniel pulled out his phone. Except they weren't. He showed her a photograph from his maintenance records. One access badge had been used repeatedly after midnight. Badge number 0417.
Clare stared at it. "That belongs to the chairman." Daniel looked at her. Then why would he be accessing an abandoned server room? They went downstairs.
The building was nearly empty. Daniel used his maintenance credentials to enter the old server room. The key from Lily fit a small cabinet beneath the floor. Inside was a hard drive. Clare stared at it.
Daniel connected it to a secure terminal. Folders appeared. Contracts, payments, internal messages. Then a video file. Clare clicked it.
Her chairman appeared on screen. Beside him stood the head of finance. And then another man stepped into frame. Clare's former husband. She stopped breathing.
Daniel looked at her. You knew? No. The video continued. Her husband had been alive, not missing, not dead, and he had been working with the chairman for nearly a year.
Clare's hand covered her mouth. Daniel paused the video. "Do you want me to stop?" She shook her head. No.
The next file contains something worse. A conversation about the company. About Clare? About Lily? Her husband had been using their daughter to pressure Clare into signing away controlling shares.
The Christmas card hadn't been a threat from a stranger. It had been a warning from someone who knew exactly how Clare would react. Daniel looked at the time stamp. The latest file had been created at 6:52 p.m., less than an hour ago. Someone was still inside the building.
The lights suddenly went out again. This time, Daniel knew it wasn't a power failure. He grabbed Clare's hand. Stay behind me. They heard a door slam upstairs.
Then footsteps. Fast. Daniel led Clare through a service corridor. They reached the parking garage. His sedan was gone.
Clare looked around. What do we do? Daniel pulled out his phone. "Call the police." He stopped.
His screen showed one new message. A photograph. His son standing beside the kitchen window at home. Daniel's blood ran cold. The message beneath it said, ""Bring the drive."" Clare saw his face, Daniel.
He turned the phone toward her. For the first time that night, Clare wasn't thinking about her company. She was thinking about his child. "Let's go," she said. They took her SUV.
Clare drove. Daniel sat beside her holding a hard drive. Neither spoke for several minutes. Then Clare said quietly. "I'm sorry."
Daniel stared ahead. Don't. "I brought you into this." No, you didn't. I did.
Daniel looked at her, then help me get my son back. Clare tightened both hands around the steering wheel. "I will." The house was dark when they arrived. Daniel ran inside.
Evan, no answer. He searched every room. Kitchen, bedroom, bathroom, garage, nothing. Then he saw the Christmas tree. Beneath it sat a small cardboard box.
Daniel slowly opened it. Inside was the Christmas list his son had written that morning. Except someone had added a fifth line. Tell dad not to trust the woman. Daniel stared at the handwriting.