Silenced by his words, I can only stand and stare. He’s right, but he’s also very wrong, because a man worth anything would never physically hurt the woman he loves. It is inexcusable and unforgivable.

“Now, let’s get into this meeting and find out exactly what’s going on,” he says, breaking the mood.

“Let me grab my tablet and then I’ll be right in,” I reply.

“I’ll meet you outside. I just need to check something with Annie.” He opens the door and goes around the corner toward reception.

Pulling my tablet out of my bag, I stop when I see a white envelope in front of my computer. Picking it up, I look at the handwriting on the front, cursive but purposeful, the penmanship indiscernible. Easing open the tab, I pull out a cream card and wince when I see the words.

“Cal? We better get moving,” Grant calls out, pulling me out of my frozen form. I put the letter back down on my desk, wondering how it got into my office and who is continuing to send them to me. This is the third note in as many months, each one scathing and with veiled threats.

“There’s another letter on my desk,” I tell Grant as we’re walking toward the meeting.

“Letter?”

“Another note. Similar to the last one,” I say.

His head jerks to look at me. “Cal, you need to take these to the police.”

“They’re not threatening. I’m sure it’s nothing.”

“You’re hoping it’s nothing,” he says tersely.

“I definitely don’t need anything else to go wrong right now.”

“Let’s get this meeting over with and then we’ll sort out the rest.”

“Gentlemen, thank you for making the time to meet with us. I’m sure you want to know what happened as much as we do.” The investigator is a tall, slight man who’s balding, with some patchy gray hair, and astute eyes. He introduced himself as Kevin Hale when we first arrived. Along with his assistant, Jerry, the meeting also includes the museum board chair Richard James, and the three other board members.

I didn’t miss the scathing looks I received from a few people when I walked into the conference room, but I immediately moved past them and took a seat at the head of the table beside Grant, my newly placed mask serving me well.

“The collapse seems to have been caused by a disturbance in the basement level of the building. We have brought in a number of geotechnical engineers to inspect the foundations and try and shed some light on exactly what happened. You must understand that because there were two deaths, the site will continue to be shut down for some time.”

I nod in agreement. “Our own engineers will be available to meet with you also, if that is of assistance,” I add, making a note to contact them and ensure they fully cooperate with the investigation.

“That would be very much appreciated, Mr. Alexander.”

“Do we know what the disturbance was?” Grant asks.

Kevin reaches up and awkwardly adjusts his necktie, his face tightening, as if he’s warring with himself. “We . . . ah . . . our early findings show that there was an explosion of some sort next to one of the main foundations, which led to the collapse.”

“An explosion?” I ask, my eyes widening.

“What kind of explosion?” Richard also asks.

“You must understand that this is also a police matter as well as an occupational safety matter so I must be careful with what I say and who I say it to. I will tell you that all indications are that this is an act of sabotage. The detectives in charge of the case will want to speak to all of you as well.”

I shake my head and look at the investigator. “A bomb?” My voice is rough, filled with anger and shock.

“Unfortunately that is looking highly likely.”

“What the fuck?” Grant curses, causing the whole room to go quiet. “Sorry, but you must admit these are extraordinary circumstances. You’ve just told us that a bomb might have been set at a building site for the city’s most anticipated landmark and it was an act of sabotage, for reasons unknown. Have I got that right?”

Kevin looks between Grant and myself, then continues to look around the table before nodding.

“Jesus,” Richard mutters.

“Is there anything else you need from us?”

“A copy of the original plans would be great, if they are available,” Kevin explains.

“Not a problem. They will be in my office so we can go there on the way out and I can get them for you,” I offer.

“Appreciated, Mr. Alexander. That is all I wanted to share with you today. As you can imagine, there is a lot of interest in this investigation and what we find out. If you could please keep everything discussed here today confidential it would be very much appreciated. The press is having a field day as it is, without this new development being leaked.”

“I agree. Thank you, Mr. Hale.” I stand up and shake the man’s hand before stepping aside for Grant to follow suit.

“Callum and Grant, a moment of your time if possible?” Richard asks as the investigator steps outside and waits for me.

“Of course,” I reply.

Richard looks toward the door and nods to Helen McDonald as she gets up to leave. “Gentlemen, given the media scrutiny this project is now under, and in light of recent . . . attention . . . in the press about you, Callum, the board and I think it is best if Grant steps forward as the key contact for the project.”

Grant starts to protest but I interrupt him. “I agree. Grant will be the point of contact for Alexander Richardson for the remainder of the project.”

Richard nods at me, his eyes tight with something I cannot interpret, but his pursed lips give me the impression that he is judging me by whatever he has read in the newspaper.

I stay in business mode, reaching out to shake his hand, a gesture he hesitantly returns. “I must go with Mr. Hale to get the plans, but I wish you the best with this project, Richard. You’re in excellent hands with my business partner here.” I clap Grant’s shoulder and ignore the frustrated glare on Grant’s face.

“Cal,” Grant calls out as I walk toward the door.

“We’ll meet later today, Grant,” I reply before stepping into the corridor to the patiently waiting investigator.

Unfortunately, bad things don’t come in threes. They come in fours and fives and sixes.

When Kevin and I reach my office, the plans are missing. After I explain to him that it is not uncommon for plans to be referred to by other departments and promising to send them to the Cal/OHSA offices as soon as we locate them, Mr. Hale leaves me to my fruitless search. I ask Annie to arrange for the interns to search the other offices, and also send a company-wide email requesting the plans’ return, stressing the importance of finding them.

By the end of the day, with no plans being located and Grant keeping his distance, no doubt annoyed at me for blindsiding him in the meeting with Richard, I pick up my phone and instinctively bring up Lucia’s number.

Then I freeze in place, realizing what I was about to do.

Slamming my phone back down onto my desk, I put my head in my hands and try to breathe through the crippling pain that lances through me.

Grant’s words from this morning echo through my mind.

Any man worth his weight will recognize that the woman at his side is a true reflection of his character.

It’s the same advice my father would likely give me. But the shame I’ve brought on myself, Lucia, our families, our firm, our employees, our clients—all of it weighs heavy on my mind. With the story only coming out this morning, and my level of intoxication over the past two days being what it was, I have not called my parents to tell them what happened.