Chương 5
“I know.”
“She’s twenty-two.”
Claire nodded.
He rubbed his thumb over the coffee lid.
“Doesn’t talk to me.”
Claire almost said she was sorry.
She stopped.
Voss glanced toward her.
“You don’t have to do that.”
“What?”
“Pretend you care.”
“I wasn’t going to.”
He laughed once.
The sound surprised both of them.
That tiny moment of ordinary human response horrified Claire more than his anger had. For half a second he had been a tired father in a basement drinking bad coffee.
Then her wrist shifted, chain scraping concrete.
The truth returned.
Voss’s phone buzzed.
He looked at the screen.
His jaw tightened.
“No.”
He walked upstairs.
Claire waited.
Then moved.
The rough edge had weakened the plastic restraint more than he had realized.
She twisted.
Pain burned across the base of her thumb.
She pulled harder.
The tie did not break.
She stopped before the sound carried.
Upstairs, Voss began arguing.
“You changed the deal.”
Pause.
“No.”
Another pause.
“I said no.”
Claire strained to hear.
“You want clean, then clean costs what I said.”
Daniel.
She knew it was Daniel before Voss said his name.
“Daniel, listen to me.”
Claire closed her eyes.
She had spent twelve years hearing that name spoken by people who respected him.
Assistants.
Board members.
Waiters.
Eleanor.
Claire herself.
In Voss’s mouth, it became something cheap.
“You don’t get to panic now,” Voss said. “She’s here because you panicked before.”
Claire opened her eye.
The watch hung from the table chain.
She looked at the clasp.
A small spring bar connected the bracelet.
She had watched Daniel replace one years ago using the tip of a steak knife.
Voss returned ten minutes later.
He was angry.
He did not bring lunch.
He paced.
Checked the window.
Checked his gun.
Checked the chain.
Claire stayed quiet.
Finally he said, “Your husband’s an asshole.”
“Yes.”
The word escaped before she could decide whether it was safe.
Voss stared at her.
Then barked a laugh.
“Now you figure that out?”
Claire looked at him.
“When did you?”
The laughter stopped.
Voss picked up his phone.
“Don’t get clever.”
She lowered her gaze.
But she had seen something.
Resentment.
Daniel had not bought loyalty.
Only labor.
By late afternoon, Voss became restless.
He went upstairs repeatedly.
The window strip faded toward gray.
Claire understood the deadline.
Saturday night.
Whatever Daniel had paid for was approaching.
She needed Voss divided.
Angry at Daniel.
Afraid of Daniel.
Distracted by money.
She also needed something she had almost none of.
Time.
“What if he doesn’t pay you?” she asked.
Voss did not answer.
“He already tried to move eighty-five thousand.”
His head turned.
Claire kept her voice dull.
“Transfer failed.”
“Shut up.”
“He has money.”
“I said shut up.”
“He also has lawyers.”
Voss crossed the basement.
Fast.
Claire flinched before she could stop herself.
He saw it.
Something flickered in his face.
He crouched close enough that she smelled coffee on his breath.
“You think you know what’s happening.”
“I know he lies.”
“You know nothing.”
“I know the transfer failed.”
His eyes narrowed.
Claire continued.
“He’ll tell you it’s the bank. Or compliance. Or me. It won’t be him.”
“You think you’re buying yourself something here?”
“No.”
“You think I’m going to let you walk because your husband’s a prick?”
“No.”
“Good.”
He stood.
Claire looked at the watch.
Voss followed her eyes.
“He give you that?”
“My mother-in-law.”
Voss snorted.
“Of course.”
Claire waited.
Then said, “She’ll recognize it.”
He looked at her sharply.
Claire shrugged as much as her bruised shoulders allowed.
“If anybody ever finds it.”
Voss stared at the watch.
There it was.
Not guilt.
Risk.
He unlocked the small chain, removed the watch, and put it in his pocket.
Claire had lost access to it.
For ten minutes she hated herself.
Then she saw what else he had done.
He had left the tiny padlock open on the table.
Voss went upstairs again.
Claire moved immediately.
She dragged the floor chain toward the table.
The bolt stopped her short.
She stretched.
The padlock was inches beyond her fingertips.
She hooked one shoe beneath the folding table’s crossbar.
Pulled.
The table shifted.
The gun slid.
Claire froze.
It stopped near the edge.
She pulled again, more carefully.
The padlock fell.
It hit concrete with a tiny metallic click.
Claire caught it with her fingertips.
Useless.
The key was not in it.
But the shackle was narrow.
Metal.
She brought it to the plastic tie around her wrists and began sawing.
Footsteps.
Claire dropped the lock into her lap.
Voss came down.
She leaned back against the wall.
He looked at the table.
Then at her.
Claire’s heart hammered.
“What?”
She forced confusion into her voice.
Voss inspected the table.
The gun.
The chain.
He looked down.
The padlock was gone.
His eyes snapped to Claire.
She threw it.
Not at him.
At the gun.
The lock hit the table leg.
Voss flinched.
Claire surged forward, wrapping the floor chain around his ankle.
He fell hard.
The gun dropped.
Claire grabbed for it.
Voss kicked her in the face.
Pain exploded through her injured eye.
She went sideways.
He recovered first.
He picked up the gun.
Claire curled around her head.
Voss stood over her, panting.
For the first time, he looked capable of killing her immediately.
“You stupid—”
He stopped.
His phone rang upstairs.
Neither moved.
It rang again.
Claire tasted blood.
Voss looked toward the stairs.
Then at her.
The phone stopped.
Started again.
He swore.
He took the gun with him.
Claire lay still until the door above shut.
Then she opened her fist.
The padlock.
She still had it.
She began sawing.
This time she did not stop when her skin tore.
The plastic thinned.
Upstairs, Voss shouted into the phone.
Claire pulled.
The restraint snapped.
For several seconds she simply stared at her free hands.
Then she moved.
May you like
The ankle tie came next.
The floor chain remained locked through the ring.
