"Have you found out what happened to Hilbert Calhoun?" Alexander asked.
He sat at his desk, hands braced against the polished wood, posture deceptively calm. Duncan knew better. Everyone did. When Alexander Preston sounded this controlled, it meant the storm had already passed through him once, and whatever remained was colder, sharper.
"I want him alive," Alexander continued evenly. "With no further attachments to my sister's life. Ever."
He didn't say how he would ensure that. He didn't need to. The police were still blocking access, hiding behind procedure and paperwork, but that was temporary. Everything was temporary. Eventually, Alexander would reach him.
And when he did, Hilbert Calhoun would wish he had not survived. He should never have tried to humiliate Catherine.
"They're saying he's in a coma," Duncan replied.
Alexander scoffed softly.
"Coma?" His lips curved without humor. "So, his father's already at work."
