Chương 12
“So do you.”
A second vehicle rolled onto the pier from the opposite end.
Domenic emerged beneath a black umbrella held by his lawyer. Two armed men followed.
Mave felt the tactical vest press harder against her ribs.
Domenic looked irritated rather than surprised. “This was supposed to be simple.”
“Jamie thought that too,” Mave said.
He glanced at Bear. “Give Carlo the ledger.”
Rafe moved one step closer. “You’re finished.”
Domenic smiled. “With what evidence? A frightened criminal, an old book, and a waitress who let reporters turn her into a saint?”
“I refused the reporters’ money.”
“Exactly. People love pride until it sends them an invoice.”
Mave lifted the waterproof bag. “You want this?”
Domenic’s attention fixed on it.
“Bring it here.”
“No.”
Carlo raised the pistol toward her chest.
Rafe’s right hand moved slightly away from his body.
“Don’t,” Mave said without looking at him.
Domenic watched them both. “You see? This is what she does. She steps in front. Carlo told me. A woman like that makes everyone around her feel cowardly.”
Mave’s fingers tightened around the bag. “Jamie copied your shipments.”
“Jamie carried my shipments.”
“He tried to stop.”
“He tried to save himself after taking the money.”
“You had him killed.”
Domenic’s expression barely changed. “He killed himself the moment he imagined fear made him honest.”
Carlo looked toward him.
The reaction was small, but Mave saw it. Domenic had said too much.
“Carlo called the ambulance,” Mave said.
Domenic glanced at Carlo. “Carlo always had a sentimental defect.”
“You told me Jamie was dead when we reached him,” Carlo said.
Domenic’s lawyer shifted beneath the umbrella. “This conversation should end.”
Rafe said, “No. Let him finish.”
Carlo’s pistol lowered by an inch.
Domenic’s eyes hardened. “You were paid to manage a driver.”
“You said he hit the barrier at eighty.”
“He did.”
“You said he died instantly.”
“Does the timing trouble your conscience now?”
Carlo stared at him. Rain ran from his forehead. “The paramedic report said he lived twenty-three minutes.”
Mave had never seen that report.
Domenic’s silence confirmed more than an answer might have.
Carlo looked sick. “You told them to wait.”
Domenic’s lawyer stepped backward.
Rafe said, “Who waited?”
Carlo turned the pistol toward Domenic. “The private ambulance crew at the warehouse gate. They were there before the crash. They followed us.”
Domenic’s armed men raised their weapons.
Everything narrowed.
Mave heard rain on the waterproof bag. A truck horn sounded far beyond the warehouses. Bear’s remaining plastic eye reflected the work light.
Domenic spoke softly. “Put the gun down, Carlo.”
“You said he was already gone.”
“He was a witness who had betrayed everyone.”
“He was breathing.”
“So are you. Do not waste the privilege.”
Carlo’s face changed.
Not into courage. Into the terrible recognition that loyalty had never meant what he needed it to mean.
He fired.
The shot struck one of Domenic’s guards in the thigh as the man moved toward his weapon. Federal agents poured from both ends of the pier. Commands broke across the rain.
Domenic grabbed Mave.
His umbrella fell. One arm locked around her injured shoulder, and pain erased the edges of the world. He pulled her backward, pressing a compact pistol beneath her jaw.
Rafe stopped ten feet away.
Agents spread behind vehicles and concrete barriers. Ortiz’s voice carried from somewhere to the left.
“Drop the weapon!”
Domenic dragged Mave toward the water. “Give me the ledger.”
“It’s in her hand,” Rafe said.
“I want you to bring it.”
Mave understood.
This was the kneeling.
Not the attack in the restaurant. Not Elena on the marble. This moment. Rafe crossing the distance, surrendering evidence, and choosing family in front of every witness. Domenic wanted the act more than the book. Once Rafe performed it, the rest of his authority would belong to the man who forced him.
Rafe looked at Mave.
She saw calculation, rage, and something worse: willingness.
He would do it.
He would give Domenic what he wanted because the gun rested beneath her jaw.
Mave lifted the bag.
Domenic tightened his arm. “Throw it to him.”
Instead she dropped it into the harbor.
The waterproof bag struck the black water and floated for half a second before the ledger’s weight pulled it beneath the surface.
Domenic made a sound of disbelief.
Mave drove Bear’s hard plastic button eye into his wrist.
The gun shifted away from her jaw.
Rafe crossed the distance.
He struck Domenic’s forearm, caught the pistol, and forced it downward. The weapon fired into the pier. Mave fell to one knee. Pain tore through her shoulder and ribs, but she crawled toward the nearest concrete barrier.
Rafe hit Domenic once.
The older man collapsed.
Rafe stood above him with the pistol in his hand.
Domenic looked up through the rain. Blood ran from his mouth.
“You won’t let them take me,” he said.
Rafe’s breathing remained controlled. His eyes were not.
“You know what happens if I talk.”
Agents shouted for him to drop the weapon.
Domenic smiled faintly. “Your father would finish it.”
Rafe looked toward Mave.
She pressed one hand against the wet pavement. Bear lay beside her, one arm soaked in a puddle.
Rafe lowered the pistol.
He placed it on the ground and stepped away.
Federal agents rushed forward. They pinned Domenic, Carlo, the wounded guard, and the second armed man. Carlo offered no resistance. His face remained turned toward the water where the replica ledger had disappeared.
Ortiz reached Mave first.
“Can you breathe?”
“Apparently.”
The detective almost laughed. Then she saw Mave’s face and called for a medic.
Rafe stood several yards away while agents handcuffed his uncle. Rain darkened his open-collar shirt. He watched Domenic being lifted from the pavement.
Domenic twisted once to look at him.
“You gave them your own blood.”
May you like
Rafe answered quietly. “You spent it first.”
No one posed. No music rose. The pier smelled of rain, oil, and rust. The wounded guard cried out while paramedics cut his trouser leg. Carlo asked whether Jamie’s final letter mentioned him. Nobody answered.
