Chapter 5 - THE WOMAN ADRIAN REFUSED TO HAND OVER
By the time the first Chicago police vehicle stopped outside the Moretti gates, Adrian had already made his decision.
Marin would not leave with them.
Vincent disagreed.
Strongly.
“If you obstruct police, you turn a manageable situation into a public war.”
Adrian stood in his office watching red-and-blue lights flash against the snow beyond the windows.
“It is already a war.”
“No. Right now it is a frame job.”
“And they are not taking her.”
“Adrian.”
“No.”
Vincent lowered his voice.
“You know I’m loyal to you.”
“Then stop arguing.”
“I’m loyal enough to tell you when you’re making a decision based on emotion.”
Adrian turned.
“The evidence is fabricated.”
“I know.”
“Then we agree.”
“We agree she is being framed. We do not know whether the officers outside know that.”
“Doesn’t matter.”
“It matters if twelve patrol cars become forty.”
Adrian looked toward the hallway.
Marin was with Noah.
After the attack, the boy refused to sleep unless she remained nearby.
Adrian had watched Marin sit beside his bed for almost an hour, reading the same three pages of a dinosaur book because Noah kept interrupting with questions he already knew the answers to.
She was exhausted.
Terrified.
And still patient.
The idea of strangers putting handcuffs around her wrists caused something primitive to rise inside him.
Vincent saw it.
“That,” he said.
“What?”
“That face.”
Adrian’s eyes narrowed.
“You are not objective.”
“I don’t need to be.”
“You do if you’re going to keep her alive.”
That stopped him.
Vincent stepped closer.
“Vale wants you reacting. That is obvious now. The attack, the fake footage, Elena’s name. He is pulling you emotionally because emotional men make predictable decisions.”
Adrian hated hearing it.
Mostly because it was true.
“What do you suggest?”
“We make the police wait.”
“For?”
“Our attorney.”
Adrian almost laughed.
Vincent did not.
“Publicly,” he continued, “Moretti Holdings has two thousand employees, contracts with the city, charities, hospitals, construction companies. We do not act like gangsters.”
Adrian raised a brow.
“Privately is different.”
“Very.”
The intercom buzzed.
A guard spoke.
“Detective Samuel Carter requests entry. He has a warrant.”
Adrian looked at Vincent.
“You know him?”
“By reputation. Clean.”
“Anyone can be bought.”
“True.”
Adrian pressed the intercom.
“Tell Detective Carter I’ll meet him at the gatehouse in ten minutes.”
He released the button.
Vincent nodded.
“Good.”
“I’m still not handing her over.”
“Of course not.”
Adrian looked at him.
Vincent shrugged.
“I know you.”
Ten minutes later, Adrian entered the gatehouse with two attorneys, Vincent and Marin.
He had told her to stay inside.
She refused.
“I will not hide behind your son.”
Adrian wanted to argue.
He did not have time.
Detective Samuel Carter was fifty, Black, tired-eyed, and unimpressed by wealth.
Adrian liked him immediately for that alone.
Carter placed the warrant on the table.
“Ms. Dade, we need you to come with us.”
Marin remained silent.
Adrian’s attorney spoke.
“My client will cooperate with questioning here.”
“She’s not your client.”
“She is now.”
Carter looked at Adrian.
“You hired criminal counsel for your housekeeper fast.”
“She needed it fast.”
The detective studied Marin.
“You were identified entering an industrial property on West Harrison at eleven forty-two Monday night.”
“I was here.”
“Witness?”
Adrian answered.
“Twenty-seven cameras.”
Carter glanced at him.
“Convenient.”
“Accurate.”
“Your security footage could be altered.”
“So could yours.”
Carter leaned back.
“Mr. Moretti, I’m trying very hard not to turn this into a contest.”
“Then don’t.”
Marin touched Adrian’s arm lightly.
He looked at her.
The touch lasted less than a second.
Still, it calmed him.
Carter noticed.
Interesting.
He opened a folder.
“The warehouse was owned through a shell company connected to Dominic Vale.”
Adrian’s gaze sharpened.
Carter continued.
“Inside, we found two men dead.”
Marin’s face drained.
“One had a photograph of Ms. Dade in his pocket.”
Adrian said, “Planted.”
“Maybe.”
The answer surprised everyone.
Carter closed the folder.
“I’ve been investigating Vale for eleven months.”
The attorneys stopped writing.
Vincent leaned forward.
Carter looked at Marin.
“I don’t think you killed those men.”
“Then why the warrant?” she asked.
“Because the warrant gives me legal grounds to get you away from whoever does want you dead.”
Adrian’s expression cooled.
“She is safer here.”
Carter looked around.
“Your property was breached tonight.”
Adrian said nothing.
“Someone put a bullet through an underground interrogation room.”
Vincent’s eyes hardened.
“How do you know that?”
Carter smiled without humor.
“Because your people are not the only people capable of obtaining information.”
Adrian sat forward.
“What do you want?”
“The same thing you do.”
“Vale.”
“Evidence.”
Adrian thought of Elena.
The music box.
“You know about my wife?”
Carter’s expression changed slightly.
“Not enough.”
“What do you know?”
“I know Elena Moretti’s crash file was flagged internally two years ago by a detective who retired three days later.”
Marin inhaled sharply.
Adrian stared at Carter.
“Name.”
“Detective Raymond Shaw.”
Adrian knew it.
He had met Shaw after Elena’s death.
The man had personally assured him there was no foul play.
“Where is he?”
“Arizona.”
“Address.”
“No.”
Adrian gave him a look.
Carter returned it.
“This is why people don’t like working with you.”
“People work with me.”
“People obey you. Different thing.”
Marin almost smiled.
Adrian saw it.
Under different circumstances, he might have been offended.
Carter continued.
“If Elena had evidence, Vale has spent years looking for it. If Ms. Dade’s sister was involved, the connection matters.”
“We know,” Marin said.
Adrian turned toward her.
She looked at Carter.
“My sister gave me something before she died.”
Carter’s focus sharpened.
“What?”
“A music box.”
Adrian wanted to stop her.
But it was already said.
“Where is it?”
“My apartment.”
Carter stood.
“We go now.”
“No,” Adrian said.
Everyone looked at him.
“If Vale created the fake footage and sent police here, he expects us to move.”
Carter considered that.
Vincent nodded.
“Apartment is probably watched.”
Marin looked frustrated.
“So what do we do?”
Adrian stood.
“We make him think we’re not going.”
Two hours later, Marin’s apartment building looked completely quiet.
Adrian sat in the rear of an unmarked SUV two blocks away.
Beside him, Marin wore a dark coat and baseball cap.
Carter was in the front passenger seat.
Vincent drove.
“You’re sure about this?” Marin asked.
“No,” Adrian said.
“Comforting.”
“You wanted honesty.”
“I’m beginning to regret that.”
Adrian looked at her.
Even frightened, she could still do that.
Push back.
He liked it too much.
“Apartment number?” Carter asked.
“4C.”
“Anyone else have keys?”
“Landlord.”
“Alarm?”
“No.”
Adrian frowned.
“You lived alone without an alarm?”
Marin looked at him.
“Some people do not have a security budget larger than a small government.”
“That will change.”
Her brows rose.
“Excuse me?”
“Nothing.”
Carter looked back.
“Can we save whatever this is for later?”
“There is no this,” Marin said immediately.
Adrian stared out the window.
Carter’s mouth twitched.
They entered through the rear stairwell.
No lights.
Fourth floor.
Carter went first.
Vincent second.
Marin behind him.
Adrian last.
At apartment 4C, Marin stopped.
The door was slightly open.
Her breathing changed.
“I locked it.”
Vincent drew his weapon.
Carter did the same.
“Stay here.”
They entered.
Thirty seconds later, Vincent called.
“Clear.”
Marin stepped inside.
Her apartment had been destroyed.
Drawers emptied.
Couch cushions cut open.
Books ripped apart.
Mattress slashed.
Kitchen cabinets emptied onto the floor.
Marin stood frozen.
“No.”
Adrian watched her walk through the wreckage.
“This was my sister’s.”
She picked up a broken picture frame.
Glass fell from her fingers.
A photograph showed Marin and Lily laughing beside a lake.
Adrian had seen Lily only in surveillance photographs.
Here she looked young.
Alive.
Marin set the picture down carefully.
“The music box.”
She ran toward the bedroom.
Adrian followed.
Marin opened the closet.
Moved two suitcases.
Pulled up a loose floor panel.
Empty.
Her face collapsed.
“No.”
Adrian crouched beside her.
“It was here?”
“Yes.”
“Someone took it.”
“No.”
She started searching the cavity.
“Marin.”
“No, no, no.”
He caught her hands.
“Look at me.”
“It was here.”
“I believe you.”
“I kept it safe for three years.”
“I know.”
“I didn’t even know what it was.”
“Marin.”
She stopped.
Their faces were closer than either expected.
He could feel her breath.
She looked at his hand around hers.
Adrian immediately loosened his grip.
But neither moved away.
For one suspended moment, the destroyed apartment disappeared.
So did Vale.
So did Chicago.
Marin whispered, “You watched me dance.”
Adrian froze.
She searched his face.
“Didn’t you?”
He said nothing.
“Camera Nine.”
“How did you—”
“You have looked at me differently since Wednesday morning.”
Adrian’s jaw tightened.
“I was reviewing security footage.”
“At one in the morning.”
“Yes.”
“And you happened to watch six minutes?”
He stared.
Her eyes widened.
“Six?”
He had made a mistake.
Despite everything, Marin let out a stunned laugh.
“You timed it?”
“No.”
“You just knew it was six minutes?”
“I have an accurate sense of time.”
“Oh my God.”
“Marin.”
“That is the creepiest thing you have ever said.”
“There is currently a criminal organization trying to kill us.”
“And somehow this is still weird.”
Adrian almost smiled.
Almost.
Then Marin’s expression softened.
“Why didn’t you say anything?”
“Because you believed you were alone.”
“That answer is better than I expected.”
They remained close.
Her gaze dropped briefly to his mouth.
Adrian noticed.
She noticed him noticing.
The air changed.
He could have kissed her.
He wanted to.
More than he had wanted anything personal in years.
Then Carter shouted from the living room.
“Moretti!”
They separated instantly.
Adrian stood.
Carter was holding something beside the broken fireplace.
“What?”
“Your thief missed something.”
He pointed at the floor.
A small brass cylinder had rolled beneath the radiator.
Marin picked it up.
Her face changed.
“This was inside the music box.”
“How do you know?”
“I heard something rattling once. I thought it was part of the mechanism.”
Vincent took the cylinder.
Twisted it.
A tiny storage card fell into his palm.
Nobody spoke.
Adrian stared at it.
Elena.
Lily.
Vale.
Maybe everything was on that card.
They returned to the SUV and drove to a secure Moretti office downtown.
Vincent isolated a computer from the network.
Inserted the card.
Encrypted files appeared.
Carter leaned forward.
“Can you open them?”
Vincent typed.
“Working.”
A password request appeared.
Marin whispered, “Try Lily’s birthday.”
Failed.
Adrian tried Elena’s.
Failed.
They tried dates.
Names.
Locations.
Nothing.
Then Marin stared at the screen.
“Wait.”
She took the keyboard.
Typed:
STARS TASTE SWEETER
Adrian looked at her.
“That’s what Noah said at breakfast.”
“No.”
Marin’s eyes filled.
“Lily used to say it when we were children.”
The screen unlocked.
Hundreds of folders appeared.
Names.
Dates.
Photographs.
Financial records.
Videos.
Carter whispered, “Jesus Christ.”
Adrian searched Elena’s name.
One folder appeared.
E.M.
He clicked.
A video opened.
Elena appeared on screen.
Alive.
Sitting in Adrian’s own library.
Recorded four years earlier.
Adrian stopped breathing.
Elena looked directly into the camera.
“If you are watching this,” she said, “then Dominic Vale probably found me.”
Adrian’s hand trembled.
Marin stood beside him.
Elena continued.
“There is one thing Adrian must never know until Vale is arrested.”
May you like
Adrian leaned closer.
Then the office door exploded inward.
