Page 37 of Rogue’s Mark

C’mon, Alice.

After a moment, she looks around and lowers her voice. "Your father called them ‘the ceiling’," she says, using finger quotes.

I stop. Alice takes two more steps before she stops too, and turns around.

"The ceiling?" I say.

"The person or people above everything. The one who never appears in any document, never attends any meeting, never signs anything directly. Everything flows up to them and nothing comes back down with their name on it. Your father spent months trying to identify who it was. I never found out if he succeeded."

"He might have," I say. "Before he disappeared."

Alice looks at me, the scar on her cheek catching the light. "Follow the law firm, Vi," she says. "Not Voss. Not Fischer. The firm. That's the thread your father was pulling when he ran out of time."

She turns and walks away.

The ceiling. Someone above everything, above the development company Voss, above the shell companies, above Fischer. Someone who never left a fingerprint. Someone my father was closing in on when he disappeared.

His disappearance wasn't random. I know it. I can feel it. It wasn't just the pressure becoming too much or the case falling apart. He was getting close to something specific and someone made him stop.

I look down at the documents, my hands shaking. Same firm, four times, multiple years, one question mark. Dad’s handwriting and his question, still unanswered, just waiting for someone to pick it back up.

That would be me.

22

VI

I find the guys in the operations room.

All three of them are conveniently there, saving me from having to track anyone down. Armen is at the whiteboard, Sting has a folder open in front of him, and Rogue is leaning against the wall with his arms crossed.

They all look up when I come through the door.

"I found something," I say.

I put my papers on the table.

I tell them about the law firm and about finding the mentions of it in my father's files, circled with a question mark each time. About seeing the same name in the Voss records at Hargrove Street. About Alice, and what she told me in the corridor.

"The ceiling," I say. "That's what my father called whoever was above everything. The person who never signs anything, never appears in any document directly. The law firm is their buffer, giving him something to hide behind. My father was trying to identify who it was when he disappeared."

The room is quiet.

Then Rogue pushes off the wall. He picks up one of the documents and studies the firm's name. His expression doesn't change but his jaw tightens.

"Right. We saw this in the files the other day,” he says.

"Yup, we did.”

Armen looks at the papers I laid out on the table. He doesn't pick them up, just takes his time reading them, trying to construct something out of what they might mean.

"Your dad was on to something,” he says.

"Yes. And I think—" I hesitate. "I think he didn't disappear because the case fell apart. I think he disappeared because he was getting close to the ceiling and someone stopped him."

Sting doesn't say anything.

Armen nods once. "Follow the law firm, Alice said."