Chapter 7: The Brother
Caleb Westwood's apartment was on the forty-second floor of a glass tower in River North.
Harlan had two officers at the building by three in the morning.
Adrian arrived twenty minutes later.
Harlan had not told him to stay home.
He understood that some things could not be handled at a distance.
The building's concierge confirmed Caleb had come in at eleven-forty.
He had not come back down.
They took the elevator up.
Harlan knocked.
Silence.
He knocked again.
The door opened.
Caleb Westwood was still in his party clothes — a dark suit, no tie, collar open.
He looked at Harlan first, then at Adrian.
Something moved across his face.
Not surprise.
He had been expecting this.
He had simply hoped it would take longer.
"Adrian."
"Can we come in?" Harlan said.
Caleb stepped back.
The apartment was large and clean and almost entirely impersonal.
No photographs.
No books.
A single glass of scotch on the kitchen counter, mostly full.
He had been sitting here waiting.
"You left the party," Adrian said.
"I had a headache."
"Madison texted you."
Caleb picked up the glass.
Set it back down without drinking.
"I don't know what you're talking about."
"The holding company," Adrian said.
"The Hargrove transfers.
Your name is on the account registration."
Caleb said nothing.
"Four point three million dollars," Adrian said.
"From a charitable foundation.
Using Claire's name."
"You should talk to a lawyer before you say anything else," Harlan said to Caleb.
"I want to be clear about that."
"He's right," Caleb said.
"I'm not saying anything."
"Then I will," Adrian said.
He took a step forward.
"You sat across from me at dinner for three years," he said.
"You watched me grieve.
You told me I was obsessing.
You told me Claire's crash was an accident and that I needed to let it go and move forward." His voice was completely level.
"You said it was destroying the family."
Caleb looked at the window.
"Look at me," Adrian said.
Caleb looked at him.
"Did you know what Madison was planning to do to Claire?"
A long pause.
"I knew she was going to talk to her," Caleb said finally.
"I knew she was going to try to — to convince her to stay quiet about the account.
I didn't know it would go further than that."
"But it did."
"I didn't know that until after."
"And then you said nothing."
Caleb's jaw worked.
"What was I supposed to do?
Go to the police and tell them my business partner had —" He stopped.
"Had what?" Adrian said.
"Say it."
Caleb looked away again.
"Say it, Caleb."
"I didn't know for certain," Caleb said.
"I suspected.
But I didn't know."
"You suspected your partner had tampered with your sister-in-law's car and you said nothing.
For three years."
"I had no proof."
"Claire had proof.
She was building a case.
She had recordings, she had transfer records, she had a letter.
She was going to come to me with all of it." Adrian's voice finally cracked — just once, just slightly.
"She called me the night she d\*ed.
She said she had something to tell me about Madison.
I told her we'd talk when I got home."
Caleb closed his eyes.
"She never got home," Adrian said.
"And you spent three years making sure I never found out why."
"I was protecting myself," Caleb said.
It came out quieter than he probably intended.
Almost like a confession.
"I know," Adrian said.
"That's the worst part.
You weren't protecting anyone else.
Just yourself."
Harlan stepped forward.
"Mr.
Westwood.
Caleb Westwood.
I need you to come with me."
Caleb didn't argue.
He set the scotch glass down on the counter.
He straightened his jacket.
He walked to the door with the same careful composure he had carried his entire life — the younger brother who had always known how to look correct even when nothing was.
At the door, he stopped.
He turned back to Adrian.
"I'm sorry," he said.
Adrian looked at his brother.
"I know you are," he said.
"It doesn't change anything."
Caleb nodded once.
Then he walked out.
Adrian stood in the empty apartment for a long moment after the elevator doors closed.
The scotch glass was still on the counter.
Still mostly full.
May you like
He left it there and went back downstairs.
He had one more thing to do before morning.
