Chapter 12 - THE OTHER KEY
Ruiz told Maria not to go to the storage facility.
For once, Maria didn’t argue.
She gave the detective her maiden name, her old addresses, and every number she could remember.
The second unit had been paid years in advance.
Owen had set it up before he died.
The first unit was obvious.
The second was quiet.
Vincent waited at Nora’s office while officers secured it.
He wanted to go.
Nora asked what he expected to accomplish by standing in a parking lot full of police.
He stayed.
Maria sat across from him, twisting a tissue into a narrow rope.
“Why would he hide it from me?”
“Maybe he thought knowing would put you in danger.”
“It did anyway.”
Vincent had no answer.
She looked at him.
“Did you ever meet him?”
“Owen?”
“Yes.”
“Twice. That I remember.”
“What was he like?”
The question hurt.
He remembered a conference room. A young man holding a folder. Someone Adrian had introduced as accounting support.
“I didn’t pay enough attention.”
Maria nodded.
She seemed to prefer that to a prettier lie.
Ruiz called shortly after noon.
The unit contained boxes of financial records, personal letters, and an envelope addressed to Maria.
No one had removed them.
But someone had tried.
The facility manager had refused entry without identification matching the account.
The man had left before officers arrived.
Frank.
Vincent put a hand over his eyes.
Ruiz continued.
“We’re reviewing their cameras.”
Maria asked about the letter.
“We’ll document it first. Then you can read it.”
Her voice broke.
“Please be careful with it.”
After the call, Vincent’s phone buzzed.
A video message.
Frank stood in what looked like an old maintenance garage.
He held a black notebook.
“Your father kept better records than your brother.”
Vincent opened the message where Nora could see.
Frank continued.
“Adrian wants me gone now. Says I’ve become a liability. Funny how that works.”
He named an amount.
Then a place.
Come alone. Bring cash. No police.
Nora was already calling Ruiz.
Vincent watched the video again.
Behind Frank, reflected in a dark window, stood another figure.
A navy suit.
Adrian had found him first.
The message ended.
Seconds later, another arrived.
This one contained no video.
May you like
Just three words.
HE’S NOT BREATHING.
