Chương 3
“You carry those around?”
“I manage dock security.”
“That what you call this?”
Ethan bound Ray’s wrists in front, searched his coat, and removed a second phone, a folding knife, and a police scanner. No badge. No identification except a Maryland driver’s license naming him Raymond Keller, forty-six, address in Dundalk.
Marcus leaned over Ethan’s shoulder. “That’s not his name.”
“It is now,” Ray said.
Ethan put the license and phone in separate pockets. He secured Ray to the support column with the chain, leaving enough slack for him to sit.
“I’ll call this in once we’re clear.”
Ray laughed. “Call who?”
That was the question Ethan had been avoiding since he heard Grant’s voice.
He looked at Marcus. “You’re coming with me.”
“To the hospital?”
“To somewhere Grant can’t reach you.”
“There isn’t somewhere.”
“Then stay close.”
Marcus stared at Ray, at the gun, at the safe.
“What about the ledger?”
Ethan turned the combination dial.
Marcus blinked. “You can open it?”
“It’s my safe.”
“You let me drag that thing across half the city while you knew the code?”
“I needed to know who came for it.”
Ray stopped smiling.
Ethan entered six numbers: Violet’s birthday followed by Laura’s. The lock gave a heavy internal click.
Inside were property deeds, Laura’s life insurance records, Ethan’s discharge papers, two passports, an old watch, and a blue clothbound ledger wrapped in a clear evidence sleeve. Ethan lifted the ledger.
Marcus looked almost offended. “That’s it?”
“You expected gold?”
“I expected something worth what he did.”
Ethan placed the ledger beneath his jacket.
“People do worse for less.”
He closed the safe but left it unlocked. Then he took Ray’s phone and tossed it inside. Marcus understood before Ray did.
“No,” Ray said.
Ethan shut the door and spun the dial.
The phone inside began ringing.
Ray pulled against the chain. “You don’t know what’s on that.”
“I know Grant wants it.”
“He’ll think I talked.”
Marcus looked at Ethan. “He’ll kill him.”
Ethan met Ray’s eyes. “Then he should talk before Grant gets another chance.”
He called 911 from his own phone while walking toward the exit. He reported an armed man restrained inside the abandoned pier warehouse, gave the gun’s location, and said the man was connected to the Cole home invasion. He did not give his own name. Dispatch already had his number.
He knew that would matter later.
For the moment, Violet mattered more.
Marcus’s pickup smelled of wet clothes, fast-food wrappers, and a pine air freshener too weak for the job. Ethan drove. Marcus sat hunched in the passenger seat, rubbing his hands together beneath the dashboard vents.
Rain battered the windshield. The wipers left a milky arc in front of Ethan’s eyes.
Marcus said, “You should turn off my phone.”
“I need it on.”
“That’s how Grant found us.”
“That’s how he’ll keep looking in the wrong place.”
“You left Ray’s phone in the safe.”
“Yes.”
“You do stuff like this often?”
“No.”
“You seem practiced.”
Ethan took the next turn too quickly. The rear tires shifted, then caught.
Marcus braced a hand against the dash. “I meant that as a compliment.”
“Don’t.”
They passed shuttered seafood warehouses and fenced lots crowded with stacked containers. Beyond them, harbor cranes stood against the clouds like enormous dark birds. Ethan had spent four years supervising security on those docks, teaching younger men not to mistake routine for safety. He knew every camera blind spot between Pier Nine and the interstate.
He also knew Grant would know the same things.
“Tell me about Nora,” Ethan said.
Marcus looked toward the side window. “I already did.”
“You said she opened the door.”
“She did.”
“Why?”
“She owed Grant.”
“Money?”
“I don’t know.”
“You were inside my home. You don’t get to protect her now.”
“I’m not protecting anybody.”
“You’re protecting yourself.”
Marcus rubbed at a dark spot on his jeans. “Grant said she’d make sure the girl was gone.”
Ethan’s hands went still on the wheel.
“Gone where?”
“Out. At a friend’s. He said the house would be empty.”
“Violet was supposed to spend the night with a friend. She came home because they had a fight.”
Marcus nodded as though the detail settled something.
Ethan looked at him. “What?”
“Nothing.”
“You reacted.”
“Grant knew her plans.”
“Nora knew her plans.”
Marcus pressed his lips together.
Ethan’s phone rang through the truck speakers. Violet’s name appeared on the dashboard.
He answered immediately.
“Vi.”
“You said ten minutes.”
Her voice was thin and hoarse. The sound of it removed every prepared answer from his mind.
“I know.”
“Dr. Patel took me for another scan I don’t need.”
“Let her.”
“She’s terrible at lying.”
“That’s probably good in a doctor.”
“Where are you?”
“On my way.”
“Are you alone?”
Marcus looked at Ethan.
“No.”
A pause stretched between them.
Violet said, “Is it him?”
“Who?”
“The man from the kitchen.”
“Violet—”
“Is he with you?”
Marcus stared down at his knees.
Ethan could have lied. He wanted to. It would have been easy, and for several seconds he mistook ease for kindness.
“Yes,” he said.
Violet’s breathing changed.
“He carried the safe.”
“I know.”
“Dad, he saw me.”
Marcus turned toward the window.
“I know.”
“He was standing there when the other man followed me downstairs.”
Ethan’s throat tightened. “You’re safe now.”
“That is not an answer.”
“No.”
“You always say that when you don’t have one.”
He heard movement in the background and Dr. Patel asking Violet to lower her voice.
“Grant is there,” Ethan said. “Do not speak to him.”
“He already asked me what I saw.”
“What did you tell him?”
“That Nora let them in.”
Marcus shut his eyes.
“And?”
“That one of them called someone. He said, ‘We have the book.’ Then the voice on the phone asked if I was home.”
Ethan looked at Marcus.
Violet continued, “The man said no.”
Marcus whispered, “I said you weren’t.”
Violet heard him.
May you like
“That’s him.”
Her voice broke on the last word. Not into tears. Violet had inherited Laura’s dislike of crying where anyone could see it. The break was smaller than that, and worse.
