“That isn't what I asked.”
“I don't know.”
Danielle unfolded her mother's letter.
“I'm going to read what she wrote.”
“Dani—”
“No more secrets.”
She began.
The letter was six pages long.
Evelyn had written it less than two months before her death.
It wasn't dramatic.
That somehow made it more believable.
She described the original Pier District proposal.
Her advisory role.
The inconsistent contamination estimates.
Michael Reeves contacting her anonymously.
Internal reports.
Meetings.
Corporate entities.
Then one paragraph changed everything.
Richard is not the only person I distrust. The investors circling this property have changed repeatedly, and some of the people presenting themselves as opponents of Whitmore may simply want control of the land themselves. Do not assume the enemy of one dishonest man is therefore an honest man.
Danielle stopped.
Liang.
The text message.
Do not give it to Liang Chen.
She kept reading.
Her mother never named Liang as corrupt.
She never accused him of anything.
Instead, she gave Danielle instructions.
Preserve the documents.
Find independent counsel.
Do not hand originals to any developer, investor, corporation, journalist, or politician.
If the project returned, provide copies to environmental regulators and the city attorney.
Evidence first.
People second.
Danielle almost laughed.
That was her mother.
Even from the grave, Evelyn Brooks trusted documents more than personalities.
At 8:30 the next morning, Danielle hired an attorney.
Not Tianyu's attorney.
Her own.
Rebecca Sloan, fifty-two, former state environmental enforcement counsel.
Danielle paid her initial retainer from a credit card.
By noon, Rebecca had arranged for the binder to be professionally copied and preserved.
By two, selected documents had been delivered to the appropriate city and state agencies.
Only then did Danielle call Liang.
He answered immediately.
“Are you safe?”
Danielle paused.
“How did you know I might not be?”
Silence.
Then Liang said:
“Because Richard has a history of aggressive litigation.”
“That isn't what I asked.”
“No.”
“Someone photographed me through my window last night.”
Liang went silent.
“Someone knew about the binder.”
“I didn't tell anyone.”
“Your lawyer?”
“Only after you called me.”
Danielle closed her eyes.
“Did my mother trust you?”
A long pause.
“I hope so.”
“That isn't an answer.”
“No,” Liang said softly. “It isn't.”
“Were you ever involved with Pier District Zone Seven?”
“No.”
“Did you ever try to invest in that property?”
Another pause.
“Not then.”
“Later?”
“Yes.”
Danielle stood.
“When?”
“Seven years ago.”
Her stomach dropped.
“You never mentioned that.”
“It wasn't relevant to last night's dinner.”
“It is relevant now.”
“You're right.”
“Why did you want the land?”
“The same reason Richard does. It is valuable.”