Chapter 6 - The Notebook
The battered leather notebook had been sitting on Clare’s bookshelf since October.
Nathaniel had seen it dozens of times.
Neither understood its importance until Lucas discovered Douglas had attended the same pharmaceutical summit where Nathaniel first met Clare.
“Your father was at the Alden Mir?” Clare asked.
“He spoke privately to three compliance officers.”
“I never saw him.”
“He may have seen you.”
Clare pulled the notebook from the shelf.
Pages of reimbursement formulas.
Conference notes.
Names.
Drug codes.
Then she found something she had forgotten.
A folded sheet tucked inside the back cover.
“Oh my God.”
Nathaniel took it.
“What?”
“A man gave that to me after my panel. Older guy. Gray hair. He said I asked better questions than the speakers.”
Douglas.
Nathaniel recognized the handwriting immediately.
The page contained product codes and shipping numbers.
Lucas entered them into a secure laptop.
His face changed.
“These are container IDs.”
“Locations?”
“Six ports.”
Nathaniel leaned closer.
Lucas continued.
“Newark. Baltimore. Savannah. Jacksonville. New Orleans. Houston.”
Clare stared.
“Pharmaceutical shipments.”
Nathaniel nodded.
Douglas had handed the evidence to someone nobody would suspect.
A random policy analyst.
Except Clare had stopped being random.
That had changed everything.
Nathaniel ordered raids on three warehouses controlled by men loyal only to him.
Not police raids.
His raids.
By midnight, they had seized enough counterfeit cancer medication to fill four trucks.
Nathaniel stood inside the Newark warehouse staring at boxes labeled as legitimate chemotherapy products.
Lucas approached.
“This amount has street value above eighty million.”
Nathaniel’s jaw tightened.
“How much already moved?”
“We don’t know.”
Clare had insisted on coming.
She stood behind them wearing a borrowed safety coat over her maternity sweater.
Nathaniel turned.
“You see why I wanted you home?”
“Yes.”
“You're going home.”
“No.”
He closed his eyes.
“Clare.”
She picked up a shipping manifest.
“This reimbursement code appears in one of my federal datasets.”
Nathaniel opened his eyes.
“What?”
“If these lot numbers entered hospital systems, I may be able to trace where they went.”
Lucas looked at Nathaniel.
Nathaniel hated the idea.
Which meant it was probably necessary.
Within three hours, Clare identified fourteen hospitals.
Nine had already administered the medication.
She sat staring at the screen.
“There are patients.”
Nathaniel stood behind her.
“How many?”
“At least sixty-three.”
The warehouse suddenly seemed unbearably quiet.
Nathaniel had grown up surrounded by crime.
Gambling.
Smuggling.
Extortion.
He had spent years convincing himself there were lines.
His organization did not traffic children.
Did not sell fentanyl.
Did not target civilians.
Rules made evil feel organized.
Counterfeit cancer medicine destroyed that illusion.
“Who authorized this?” Clare asked.
Nathaniel already knew who could.
Only three people had access at this scale.
Douglas.
Nathaniel.
Eleanor.
And because Douglas had been investigating it—
Nathaniel looked at Lucas.
“My mother.”
Lucas did not respond.
Clare whispered:
“No.”
Nathaniel’s phone rang.
Eleanor.
He answered.
“Nathaniel.”
“Where are you?”
“At home.”
“Stay there.”
She laughed softly.
“You found the warehouse.”
Nathaniel felt something break inside him.
“Why?”
“You think families like ours survive by refusing profitable markets?”
“You sold fake medicine to cancer patients.”
“I moved product.”
“People died.”
“People die every day.”
Clare heard every word through the silent warehouse.
Nathaniel’s voice became cold.
“Did you push Douglas?”
Silence.
Then Eleanor said:
“Your father became sentimental.”
Nathaniel closed his eyes.
Clare covered her mouth.
“You tried to kill him.”
“He tried to destroy everything built for you.”
“No.”
Nathaniel stared at the rows of counterfeit medication.
“He tried to save what was left of me.”
Eleanor’s breathing changed.
“Nathaniel, come home. We can fix this.”
“There is no ‘we’ anymore.”
He disconnected.
Lucas said quietly:
“What do you want done?”
Every man in the warehouse knew what that question meant.
Nathaniel could order his mother killed.
Nobody would challenge him.
Clare watched him.
Nathaniel looked at her stomach.
Then at the counterfeit drugs.
“No bodies.”
Lucas blinked.
“Boss?”
“Turn everything over to federal investigators.”
Everyone went still.
Doing that would expose the Ashcroft organization.
Nathaniel knew.
“Everything?”
“Everything connected to Meridian.”
“That could lead back to us.”
“I know.”
Lucas lowered his voice.
“You could lose the company.”
“I know.”
“Ports.”
“I know.”
“Men will go to prison.”
“They should.”
Clare walked toward him.
“And you?”
Nathaniel looked at her.
“Maybe.”
Her face changed.
He touched her cheek.
“This is the first honest thing I've done with the empire my family gave me.”
Clare fought tears.
“I don't want our child growing up without you.”
“Neither do I.”
“Then find another way.”
Nathaniel shook his head.
“There is no clean way out of dirty things, Clare.”
Before she could answer, gunfire exploded outside.
Lucas drew his weapon.
“Down!”
Nathaniel pulled Clare behind a concrete pillar.
Another burst struck the warehouse doors.
May you like
Harrison Bowmont had discovered the seizure.
And he had decided there would be no witnesses.
