Chương 7
Neither person was moving.
They were just watching the building.
Frank whispered something Linda almost missed.
“They found us.”
Peter turned.
“Who?”
Frank did not answer.
Because one of the figures outside lifted a phone.
And a second later, Linda’s phone began to ring.
Linda stared at the phone in her hand as the ringing echoed through the warehouse.
She had not heard that ringtone in months.
It was the one Daniel had assigned to unknown numbers because he hated ignoring calls from people he did not recognize.
He used to say that the people who mattered rarely announced themselves properly.
Peter noticed the change in her face.
“Who is it?”
Linda looked at the screen.
The number was blocked.
No name.
No location.
Nothing.
The call kept going.
Frank stepped away from the window.
“Do not answer that.”
Linda looked at him.
“Why?”
“Because if they wanted to talk to you, they would have told you who they were.”
“That is not an answer.”
“No,” Frank said quietly.
“It is a warning.”
The phone continued ringing.
Peter reached toward her.
“Give it to me.”
Linda pulled it back.
The movement surprised all three of them.
“I’m tired of everyone deciding what I should know.”
Peter stopped.
His hand lowered.
“I’m not trying to control you.”
“I know.”
She swallowed.
“That’s what makes it worse.”
The call ended.
For a moment, nobody moved.
Then the phone rang again.
This time, a message appeared beneath the number.
Answer if you want the truth.
Linda felt the anger arrive before the fear did.
She hated that whoever was doing this understood exactly what to say.
She hated that part of her wanted to believe them.
Peter read the message over her shoulder.
“Don’t.”
Linda looked at him.
“Don’t what?”
“Don’t let someone else decide the pace of this.”
Frank gave a small, humorless laugh.
“That’s the most Daniel thing you’ve said all night.”
Peter looked at him.
“What does that mean?”
“It means Daniel spent years believing he could control every variable.”
Frank looked toward the shelves.
“He was good at it.”
“But?”
“But people are not numbers on a spreadsheet.”
Nobody answered.
The second call ended.
A new message appeared.
You have ten minutes before they enter.
Linda looked toward the door.
The warehouse suddenly felt different.
The shadows were no longer empty spaces.
They were places someone could be standing.
Peter moved toward the entrance.
“We leave now.”
Frank shook his head.
“Too late.”
Peter turned.
“What?”
Frank pointed toward the road.
The two figures outside were gone.
Linda walked closer to the window.
The car was still there.
The engine was running.
“They’re waiting,” she said.
Peter looked at her.
“How do you know?”
“Because if they wanted to come inside, they already would have.”
Frank nodded slowly.
“She’s right.”
Peter looked annoyed.
Not at her.
At the fact that he agreed.
“Who are they?”
Frank did not answer.
“Frank.”
The older man rubbed his forehead.
“I don’t know exactly.”
Peter stared at him.
“You brought us here, and you don’t know?”
“I brought you here because I thought it was empty.”
“That is not the same thing.”
“I know.”
Frank’s voice became sharper.
“I know exactly what it is.”
The argument stopped.
Not because they had resolved anything.
Because all three of them heard something else.
A metal shelf moved in the back of the warehouse.
Linda turned slowly.
Peter raised the flashlight.
“Who else is here?”
No answer came.
The beam moved across boxes, old equipment, and stacks of forgotten inventory.
Nothing moved.
Then Linda noticed something on the floor.
A small black device.
It was near the back wall.
Peter walked toward it.
“Don’t touch it,” Frank said.
Peter stopped.
“What is it?”
“A recorder.”
Linda looked at him.
“How do you know?”
Frank looked away.
“Because Daniel used the same ones.”
Peter stared.
“You knew he recorded conversations?”
“Sometimes.”
“Sometimes?”
Frank sighed.
“Daniel did not trust people easily.”
Linda almost smiled.
It was a sad expression.
“That sounds like the man I married.”
The comment surprised her.
Not because it was untrue.
Because she realized she still missed him enough to make jokes about him.
Peter crouched beside the device.
“It’s not on.”
“How can you tell?” Linda asked.
“The light is off.”
Frank shook his head.
“Daniel knew better than that.”
Peter looked up.
“What?”
“He removed the lights.”
Frank stepped closer.
“People look for blinking signals.”
The three of them stared at the recorder.
The small object suddenly felt heavier than it should have.
Peter picked it up carefully.
“What did he record?”
Frank looked at Linda.
“That depends on when he left it.”
Peter turned the device over.
There was a handwritten mark on the bottom.
A single letter.
D.
Linda touched the edge of the label.
Her fingers trembled slightly.
Daniel’s handwriting had a way of looking rushed even when it was neat.
Like his thoughts were always moving faster than his hand.
“What does D mean?”
Frank looked at the device.
“Probably Daniel.”
“That is not helpful.”
“No.”
Frank looked at her.
“It isn’t.”
The honesty stopped her.
She expected another half-answer.
Another excuse.
Instead, Frank looked exhausted.
“I spent six months trying to decide whether telling you would protect you or destroy the last thing Daniel was trying to protect.”
Linda’s expression hardened.
“You don’t get to make that choice.”
“I know.”
“Do you?”
Frank nodded.
“Yes.”
The answer was immediate.
Too immediate.
Like he had been carrying it for a long time.
Peter took the recorder.
“We need to hear this.”
Frank looked at him.
“Not here.”
“Why?”
“Because if someone is outside waiting for us, they probably know what we’re looking for.”
Peter glanced at the device.
“They already know.”
“Maybe.”
Frank shook his head.
“Knowing we found something is different from knowing what is on it.”
Linda looked toward the entrance.
The rain outside had slowed.
May you like
That somehow made everything worse.
Silence gave people room to move.
