Chương 8
Curtis crouched beside him. “How many outside?”
Frank said nothing.
Curtis took Frank’s wounded hand and pressed one finger backward until the joint strained.
Delaney said, “Stop.”
“He knows.”
“I said stop.”
Curtis looked up at her, anger bright in his controlled eyes.
“You have a better method?”
“Yes.”
She knelt beside Frank.
His breathing smelled of coffee and blood.
“They need the ledgers,” she said. “If they believe the books are still inside, they can’t burn the diner. If they believe Pike is exposed, they have to leave before state police arrive. You can tell them both.”
Frank laughed weakly. “And why would they listen to me?”
“Because you’re the one who promised them the door would be open.”
His eyes shifted.
Delaney had guessed.
Curtis saw it.
“You cut the generator,” he said.
Frank remained silent.
“You arrived first when we stopped?” Curtis asked.
Frank’s jaw tightened.
The convoy had not come directly from the ambush. They had paused near the diner’s rear lot while two guards checked the property. Frank could have cut the line then, claiming to search the shed.
“You left the jammer,” Curtis continued. “Pike followed the signal.”
Frank closed his eyes.
Delaney leaned closer.
“Call him.”
“No.”
“Then when the state police arrive, Curtis can explain that you led armed men to attack a diner with a sick woman inside.”
Frank opened his eyes again. “You think state police care about your diner?”
“No. I think they care about a county deputy firing suppressed weapons at civilians. I think Pike knows that too.”
“You don’t know Pike.”
“I know he used my name before I gave it. I know he lied about the men with him. I know he fired through a glass door while an ambulance was supposedly coming. That is enough to make him nervous.”
Frank studied her.
Behind them, Ruth said, “Tell him about the radio.”
Frank’s eyes sharpened.
Delaney pressed the transmit button so he could hear Ray Dombrowski’s returning voice.
“Lamplight, Plow Six.”
She lifted the microphone. “Go ahead.”
“State operations acknowledges. Troopers coming from Ashford barracks with two DOT plows. Estimated thirty minutes, maybe more. County traffic is being held. You stay low.”
Frank’s face changed.
Thirty minutes was not rescue. It was a deadline.
Curtis pulled a phone from Frank’s coat. Unlike the others, it showed two bars of signal.
“His is paired to the jammer,” Evan said.
Frank closed his eyes.
Curtis opened the recent calls. One number appeared six times.
“Call it,” Delaney said.
Curtis handed her the phone.
“Why me?”
“Because Pike expects Frank. If he hears my voice, he may hang up. If he hears yours, he may underestimate you.”
“I’m getting tired of men doing that only when it’s useful.”
The phone rang once.
Pike answered. “Status?”
Delaney said nothing.
“Frank?”
“No.”
There was a pause.
“Ms. Ward.”
“Deputy.”
“You’ve made this worse than it needed to be.”
“You opened fire on my diner.”
“Armed felons fired at a law-enforcement officer.”
“You brought men without uniforms.”
“They’re assisting.”
“One is dead in my kitchen doorway.”
Silence.
Delaney continued, “State police are coming.”
“That road is closed.”
“Not to plows.”
Pike’s breathing changed slightly.
“Listen carefully,” he said. “Gage Sartori is a dangerous organized-crime figure. The men with him are armed. If you help them, you expose yourself and your mother to criminal charges.”
“Is that why you brought a silencer?”
“You don’t know what you saw.”
“I know your father’s name is in a ledger behind my cash register.”
The lie came easily.
Curtis looked at her.
Pike said nothing.
There it was.
Not surprise at a strange accusation. Recognition.
Delaney let the silence lengthen.
“You want the books,” she said.
“I want evidence secured.”
“Then you can wait for state police.”
“You think Sartori will protect you?”
“No.”
“Good. Because he bought the tax lien on your property six months ago.”
Delaney looked at Gage.
His eyes were open.
Pike continued, “He owns the company that can take this building from you. He didn’t come here because your family matters. He came because he already owns what’s left.”
The call disconnected.
Delaney lowered the phone.
The tax notice above the register moved in the draft from the broken windows.
“Is that true?” she asked Gage.
Curtis began, “This isn’t—”
“Is it true?”
Gage’s voice came slowly. “A holding company bought the lien.”
“Your holding company?”
“Yes.”
Ruth’s face went pale.
“You said you were keeping Vescari from buying it,” she said.
“I was.”
Delaney looked at her mother. “You knew?”
“He told me another bidder was trying to acquire distressed properties along the route. I thought—”
“You thought the mafia boss buying our debt was protection?”
“I thought time mattered.”
“Whose time?”
Ruth’s mouth closed.
Gage tried to lift his head. Delaney pushed him gently back.
“Do not move.”
“You asked.”
“I didn’t ask you to sit up.”
“I bought the lien because Vescari wanted this property,” he said. “Not for the diner. For the records he believed were hidden here.”
“And what did you want?”
“The same records.”
“At least he’s honest,” Curtis murmured.
Delaney turned on him. “Not enough to warn me.”
Gage’s breathing roughened.
“I planned to release the lien after the exchange.”
“Planned.”
“Yes.”
“You could have contacted me.”
“And told you what? That men I control may kill you over books your mother hid in your wall?”
“You decided it was safer to own my building.”
“I decided ownership would keep anyone else from forcing a sale.”
“It also kept me working sixteen-hour days to pay a debt you could erase with a signature.”
Gage’s eyes stayed on hers.
“I told myself that was temporary.”
“You tell yourself many useful things.”
His mouth moved in what might have been agreement.
A bullet struck the kitchen vent.
Everyone ducked.
May you like
Pike’s voice came from a loudspeaker outside.
“Delaney Ward, you have five minutes to open the door and surrender the armed men. After that, we will enter by force.”
