Chương 11
“Avery.”
“I’m not letting him in.”
I opened the door just far enough to see Dominic.
He stood alone.
No suit jacket.
Rain still darkened the shoulders of his shirt.
His expression was different.
Tighter.
“Richard Vale worked for my uncle,” he said.
“For how long?”
“Twenty years.”
“Doing what?”
“Cleaning up problems.”
“That’s not a profession.”
“It was his.”
Mom moved behind me.
“Close the door.”
Dominic looked past my shoulder.
“Mrs. Carter, did Vale ever contact you again?”
She did not answer.
I looked back.
Mom’s face had changed.
“Mom.”
“Once.”
“When?”
“Three years later.”
“What did he want?”
“He asked whether Daniel had left a storage key.”
I looked down at my hand.
The small metal key suddenly felt hot.
Dominic saw it.
His eyes fixed on the yellow tag.
“Where did you get that?”
Mom stepped between us.
“You don’t get to ask questions.”
Dominic looked at her.
“That number.”
“What about it?”
His face had gone pale.
“Two fourteen.”
I tightened my grip.
“What is it?”
He did not answer quickly enough.
I stepped into the hall.
“What is it?”
“A locker number.”
“Where?”
He rubbed the back of his neck.
“My uncle had a private storage facility.”
Mom said, “No.”
Dominic looked at her.
“It was closed after he died.”
“When?”
“Six years ago.”
I stared at the key.
“So useless.”
“No.”
His voice stopped me.
“The building was closed.”
“What does that mean?”
“The contents were moved.”
“Where?”
“To a warehouse.”
My stomach turned.
“On Archer?”
He nodded.
Mom whispered something behind me.
I could not hear it.
I looked at Dominic.
“You said you didn’t know what that warehouse was used for.”
“I didn’t.”
“You knew storage was moved there.”
“Yes.”
“That seems relevant.”
“I didn’t know your father’s key was connected to it.”
“You didn’t know because you didn’t ask.”
His jaw tightened.
“No.”
I stepped closer.
“You keep inheriting ignorance like it’s a family asset.”
He took that without reacting.
Maybe because he knew I was right.
Maybe because he was too busy looking at the key.
“Is locker 214 still there?”
“I don’t know.”
“Can you get inside?”
“Yes.”
Mom said, “Absolutely not.”
I turned.
She stood in the doorway with both arms crossed over her robe.
One slipper.
One bare foot.
Terrified and furious.
“I am not letting you go to some abandoned warehouse in the middle of the night with a Moretti.”
“I’m not asking permission.”
“I am still your mother.”
“And I’m still twenty-seven.”
“That has never stopped you from making terrible decisions.”
“That’s rich.”
The words came out before I could stop them.
Her face fell.
I closed my eyes.
“Mom.”
“No.”
She stepped back.
“You’re right.”
“I didn’t mean it like that.”
“You meant enough of it.”
I started toward her.
She held up a hand.
“Don’t.”
I stopped.
Dominic looked away.
That somehow made the moment worse.
Mom took a breath.
“When your father died, I decided knowing less would keep you safe.”
Her voice was quieter now.
“I was wrong.”
I looked at her.
“But going to that warehouse tonight is still stupid.”
“Yes.”
I waited.
She frowned.
“That’s your argument?”
“No.”
“Then what?”
“I’m going anyway.”
She stared at me.
For several seconds, neither of us moved.
Then she sighed and walked into the apartment.
I thought she was done with me.
Instead she came back carrying Dad’s old leather wallet.
The one she kept in her dresser.
She opened it and removed a folded scrap of paper.
“I found this after the funeral.”
I took it.
A phone number was written on one side.
On the other was an address.
4176 South Archer Avenue.
Below it, in Dad’s handwriting, were four words.
If Vale finds key, run.
My mouth went dry.
Dominic leaned closer.
I moved the paper away from him.
“What?”
He stared at the handwriting.
“Vale is alive.”
“How do you know?”
“He called me six months ago.”
Mom went still.
“About what?”
“My uncle’s old records.”
I looked at Dominic.
“What did you tell him?”
“That I didn’t have them.”
“Did you?”
“No.”
“Did he believe you?”
Dominic looked toward the stairs.
“No.”
A door opened on the floor below.
Footsteps sounded in the stairwell.
Dominic stepped in front of me instinctively.
One of his security men appeared at the landing.
“Sir.”
“What?”
The man was breathing hard.
“We found something in the alley.”
My stomach tightened again.
“What?”
He looked at me.
“A phone.”
“So?”
“It belongs to Paul Mercer.”
Dominic frowned.
“How do you know?”
“His ID was inside the case.”
The guard swallowed.
“There’s blood on it.”
Mom gripped the doorframe.
I looked at Dominic.
He looked back at me.
Neither of us said what we were both thinking.
If Paul Mercer had followed us here, someone else had followed him.
Dominic’s security man looked down the stairwell as if he expected someone else to appear behind him.
“Where exactly?”
“In the alley behind the building.”
“How much blood?”
“Not a lot.”
“That’s not useful.”
The man swallowed.
“Enough that I wouldn’t call it accidental.”
Mom stepped back into the apartment.
I followed her without deciding to.
Dominic came as far as the doorway and stopped.
For once, he remembered the boundary without being reminded.
I put the key and Dad’s note on the kitchen table.
My hands were steady again.
That scared me more than the shaking had.
“What happened to Mercer after he left the estate?”
Dominic looked at the security man.
“He drove south.”
“Did anyone follow him?”
“No.”
“Anyone from your team?”
“No.”
“Anyone you saw?”
“No.”
I looked at Dominic.
“So somebody else was watching him.”
“Possibly.”
“Stop saying possibly.”
His expression hardened.
“I’m not going to pretend certainty because you’re scared.”
“I’m not scared.”
Mom said, “You are.”
Neither of us looked at her.
The security man’s radio crackled.
He listened.
Then said, “Police are two minutes out.”
Mom’s eyes widened.
“You called police?”
May you like
Dominic nodded.
“About the phone.”
