Chapter 8 - PIER 19
“No.”
I took the phone from David.
“You’re not going alone.”
“I don’t have a choice.”
“You had choices two years ago too. Look how that worked out.”
David flinched.
Good.
I wanted him to.
Alessandro studied the photograph.
“Pier 19 belongs to Mercer’s people.”
“How do you know?”
“Because it used to belong to mine.”
I stared at him.
He didn’t bother pretending.
“I told you I wasn’t a good man.”
“At least you admit it.”
David paced.
“If Rachel is there, Mercer expects me.”
Matteo pointed to the photograph.
“Could be old.”
David zoomed in.
A television behind Rachel showed a live news broadcast.
Timestamp visible.
“It’s current.”
Logan had fallen asleep against a booth.
I looked at him.
Every instinct told me to run far away.
But where?
Mercer knew our names.
Our home.
Our child.
Running had protected nobody.
I held up the memory card.
“What happens if he gets this?”
David looked at me.
“People die.”
“That’s vague.”
“The card has copies of protected witness lists Mercer sold.”
My stomach turned.
“Witnesses?”
“Families too.”
Alessandro’s voice was cold.
“He made millions giving killers addresses.”
I stared at the tiny card.
“That’s what was inside my son’s toy?”
David looked ashamed.
“I put it there the night before the crash.”
“Why?”
“Because I thought nobody would search a baby.”
I slapped him again.
Matteo looked away.
David accepted it.
“You used our child as a hiding place.”
“I know.”
“You endangered him before he could even walk.”
“I thought I was keeping it safe.”
“You thought a lot of things.”
Silence.
Then I said, “We copy it.”
David looked at me.
“What?”
“If that card is the only leverage, we make sure it isn’t the only copy.”
Alessandro smiled faintly.
“Now I see why you married her.”
“Don’t.”
The smile disappeared.
We went to a closed office behind the diner.
David inserted the card into a laptop.
Encrypted folders appeared.
Hundreds of files.
Bank records.
Phone logs.
Photographs.
Names.
Then one folder caught my attention.
WINTERS.
“What’s that?”
David went still.
“Don’t.”
I clicked it.
Inside were photographs of me.
Leaving the grocery store.
Picking up Logan.
Walking through the hospital parking garage.
Months of surveillance.
My stomach rolled.
“He’s been watching us.”
David nodded.
Then I saw another image.
Linda.
My supervisor.
Meeting Daniel Mercer outside a coffee shop.
“No.”
I opened the next file.
A transfer.
$3,000.
Then another.
$2,500.
“She sold us out.”
David leaned closer.
“She gave him your schedule.”
I thought of every warning Linda had given me.
Every time she asked who watched Logan.
Every time she complained about my attendance.
It had never been about work.
“She knew I brought Logan tonight.”
“Yes.”
A new message arrived on my phone.
FROM LINDA.
I’m sorry.
He said he’d kill my daughter.
My anger stopped.
Another message.
Don’t go to Pier 19.
It’s a trap.
David grabbed the phone.
“Ask her where Rachel is.”
I typed.
No response.
Then:
Rachel isn’t at Pier 19.
I know where she is.
Another message followed.
Hospital.
Morgue level.
Room B12.
Alessandro’s eyes narrowed.
“It could be another trap.”
David stood.
“I’m going.”
I grabbed his arm.
“I’m going too.”
“No.”
“Stop deciding for me.”
“Catherine—”
“For two years, everyone decided what I could handle.”
I pointed at Logan.
“That ends tonight.”
David looked at me for a long moment.
Then nodded.
“Fine.”
Alessandro handed Matteo a weapon.
David shook his head.
“No guns near Catherine.”
I laughed bitterly.
“After tonight, guns are pretty low on my list of problems.”
We left Logan with the diner owner and two of Alessandro’s men.
I hated doing it.
But taking him into another hospital trap was worse.
Before we left, Logan grabbed David’s hand.
“Come back this time.”
David’s face went pale.
“I will.”
“Promise?”
He swallowed.
“Promise.”
We drove back toward Johns Hopkins.
For the first time in two years, my husband sat beside me.
I wanted to touch him.
I wanted to hit him again.
Instead, I stared out the window.
When we reached the hospital, the morgue corridor was empty.
Room B12 stood open.
Inside sat Rachel.
Untied.
Unhurt.
Waiting for us.
David stopped.
“Rachel?”
She looked up.
Tears filled her eyes.
May you like
“I’m sorry.”
Then a red laser dot appeared on David’s chest.
