The Harbor District Files
"Where are you, Julian?" Helena asked, standing up and locking the study door by instinct.
"Somewhere dry," Julian replied with a cynical chuckle. "Listen to me carefully. Arthur Vance doesn't know the extent of what Richard did. The old man is blind, but Richard is desperate. He borrowed fifty million from private syndicates against the projected revenue of Harbor View. If those buildings fail the federal occupancy test next week, Richard goes to prison for bank fraud."
"I don't care about Richard's debts," Helena said, her hand clenching the wooden edge of her desk. "I care about the four hundred families scheduled to move into Block C on the fifteenth."
"Then you’d better find the original seismic telemetry data," Julian said. "The files you have are copies. The court will dismiss them as fabricated unless you produce the raw hard drives from the offshore monitoring station at Pier 9."
"Pier 9 was decommissioned three years ago," Helena countered. "It’s scheduled for demolition on Friday."
"Exactly," Julian said. "Once the tide takes the pier, the servers go with it. You have forty-eight hours, Helena. After that, the water claims the evidence, and Richard builds his empire on a cemetery."
The line went dead with a sharp click.
Helena looked out the rain-streaked window overlooking the harbor. In the distance, the skeletal silhouette of the new waterfront towers loomed like dark sentinels against the storm clouds. She knew what Julian was asking. Breaking into a decommissioned port facility was a felony; staying silent was complicity in a catastrophe.
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She walked back into Lily's room, watching the steady rise and fall of her daughter's chest. Lily had asked why the man was so angry. The truth was far darker: cruelty in the name of pride was the most ordinary thing in the world. But Helena had built her life on straight lines, true angles, and uncompromising honesty.
She picked up her jacket, checked her key ring, and made a single phone call to her sister to watch Lily for the night.
