“Vanessa is in the guest wing,” Julian said, his mouth twitching with a cold smile. “Her father is gone. For now.”

He walked over to the small table by the window and set the folder down.

“I had my people look into your husband’s employer,” Julian said.

I froze. “Ben? Why would you do that?”

“Because Senator Whitmore has been trying to buy the south docks for five years,” Julian said. “And the company your husband worked for, Great Lakes Transit, was the main obstacle.”

I walked over to the table, my heart skipping a beat.

“It was just a small shipping company,” I said. “Ben was just a deckhand.”

Julian opened the folder, revealing pages of financial records and police reports.

“Great Lakes Transit went bankrupt three weeks after your husband’s accident,” Julian said. “The land was sold to a dummy corporation.”

He pointed to a name printed at the bottom of a deed.

“That corporation is owned by Arthur Whitmore’s brother-in-law,” Julian said.

I stared at the name, the room suddenly feeling very cold.

“It was an accident,” I whispered, though my voice sounded hollow. “The steering failed on the tugboat.”