Chapter 6 - WHAT MICK OWED RUTH HAYES
Victor drove.
Sadi sat beside him.
Carlo was left under guard at the estate.
Victor didn’t trust him.
Sadi didn’t trust anyone.
Mercer Street was nearly empty at three in the morning.
The boxing gym occupied the second floor of an old brick building squeezed between a closed bakery and an auto parts warehouse.
One light burned upstairs.
Victor reached beneath his coat.
Sadi grabbed his arm.
“Sam is inside.”
“That is why I’m armed.”
“That is also why you don’t go in shooting.”
Victor looked at her.
“I wasn’t planning to.”
“Your face says otherwise.”
“My face has caused problems before.”
Under different circumstances, she might have laughed.
They climbed the stairs.
The gym door was unlocked.
Victor opened it.
Sam sat on the edge of a boxing ring drinking water.
Alive.
Sadi ran.
“Sam!”
He barely had time to stand before she wrapped her arms around him.
“Ow.”
She released him instantly.
“Sorry. Sorry.”
Sam smiled weakly.
“It’s okay.”
She touched his face.
“You’re okay?”
“I think so.”
“Did he hurt you?”
“No.”
Sadi turned.
Mick O’Shea stood near the far wall.
He was shorter than she expected.
Late forties.
Heavy coat.
Tired face.
He did not look like the monster she had imagined.
That made her angrier.
She crossed the gym and struck him.
Mick didn’t stop her.
“You threatened to kill him.”
“I know.”
“You stood outside his room.”
“My man did.”
“You made me think—”
“I know what I made you think.”
“Then why is he alive?”
Mick glanced at Victor.
“Because I never wanted him dead.”
Sadi laughed bitterly.
“Congratulations.”
Sam spoke behind her.
“Sadi.”
She turned.
“He said people at the hospital were coming for me.”
Mick’s expression tightened.
“Because they were.”
Victor stepped closer.
“Carlo?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“To make sure the coat disappeared before you learned Ruth Hayes’s name.”
Sadi looked at Mick.
“You knew my mother.”
“Yes.”
“How?”
Mick sat on a wooden bench.
For the first time, the cheerful voice was gone.
“Your mother saved my life.”
Nobody spoke.
“Nine years ago, I worked for Carlo,” Mick continued. “Driver. Collections. Things I’m not proud of.”
“You’re still doing collections,” Sadi said.
“I didn’t say I became a good man.”
At least he understood himself.
“The night Arturo died, Carlo told me to bring a car around the back. I heard the shot. Ruth came running out with blood on her coat.”
Sadi’s throat tightened.
“His blood?”
“Yes.”
“She saw Carlo shoot him?”
Mick nodded.
“She also saw something worse.”
Victor’s expression darkened.
“What?”
“Records.”
“What records?”
“Money Carlo had been moving through medical charities. Arturo found out.”
“We heard the tape.”
Mick looked surprised.
“Then Ruth kept it.”
“She kept more than that,” Victor said.
Mick looked toward Sam.
“Ruth thought Carlo would come for her children.”
Sadi felt suddenly sick.
“She knew?”
“She knew enough.”
“Then why didn’t she run?”
“She tried.”
Mick rubbed his face.
“I arranged a car. She refused to leave until she had proof nobody could bury.”
Victor said, “The watch.”
“The watch was part of it.”
“What else?”
Mick shook his head.
“She never told me.”
Sadi stepped closer.
“What happened three days later?”
Mick’s eyes lowered.
“Carlo found out I helped her.”
“You killed her?”
“No.”
“But you know who did.”
Mick looked at Sadi.
“I know who ordered it.”
Carlo.
He didn’t need to say the name.
Sadi looked away.
For nine years, she had imagined a faceless drunk driver.
Now the man had a face.
Her anger became almost too large to hold.
“Why didn’t you tell us?”
“Because I was a coward.”
There was no excuse in his voice.
“Carlo had my wife,” Mick said. “Cancer. Different kind from your brother. He paid for her treatment. Every appointment. Every medication.”
Sadi stared.
“He owned you.”
“Yes.”
“When she died?”
“He still owned what I’d done for him.”
Victor folded his arms.
“And the sixty thousand?”
Mick looked ashamed.
“Carlo told me to offer it when Sadi started asking charities for help.”
Sadi felt slapped.
“You targeted me.”
“Yes.”
“You watched me drown.”
“Yes.”
“You charged me interest.”
“Yes.”
Sam looked at Mick differently now.
Mick didn’t defend himself.
“Why the one-hour threat?” Victor asked.
Mick glanced toward the windows.
“Because Carlo learned Sadi worked inside your house. He knew Ruth’s daughter had gotten close to the one place he couldn’t search freely.”
“I clean toilets,” Sadi said. “I wasn’t close to anything.”
“You were inside.”
Mick’s mouth tightened.
“Tonight Carlo ordered me to get the coat. One of his men was standing beside me during the first call.”
Sadi remembered traffic noise.
Not a private office.
A street.
“You threatened Sam because someone was listening.”
“I gave you one hour because I thought I could get him out of the hospital before Carlo’s people did.”
“You could have warned me.”
“And if you acted differently on the phone, Carlo would have known.”
Sadi shook her head.
“You don’t get to turn yourself into a hero.”
“I’m not trying to.”
Good.
Because he wasn’t one.
Mick reached into his coat slowly.
Victor’s hand moved toward his gun.
Mick stopped.
“It’s not a weapon.”
He removed a rosary.
Old.
Dark wooden beads.
A small silver crucifix.
Sadi forgot how to breathe.
“That was Mom’s.”
“She gave it to me the night Arturo died.”
Sadi took it.
Her hands shook.
“She said if Carlo ever came after you or Sam, I was supposed to give it to Victor.”
Victor stared.
“Why didn’t you?”
“Fear.”
Mick looked at Sadi.
“And shame.”
A noise came from downstairs.
Car door doors.
More than one.
Mick stood.
“They found us.”
Victor moved immediately.
“Back exit?”
“Through the locker room.”
The first bullet shattered a window.
Sam ducked.
Sadi threw herself over him.
Victor fired toward the glass.
“Move!”
They ran.
Mick stayed behind long enough to shove a metal equipment rack against the front door.
Another shot.
Mick grunted.
He stumbled.
Blood appeared high on his shoulder.
Sadi stopped.
“You’re hit.”
“I’ve been worse.”
Victor pulled him along.
They reached the alley.
Luca’s car screeched around the corner.
Everyone piled inside.
Only when they were moving did Sadi realize she still held the rosary.
Sam leaned against her.
Safe.
Alive.
Sadi pressed the crucifix between her fingers.
It moved.
She frowned.
“What?”
Victor glanced over.
“The cross.”
She twisted it.
The bottom unscrewed.
A tiny brass key slid into her palm.
Stamped into it were three numbers.
And one word.
UNION.
Victor stared.
Then looked at the rosary.
“My father used a private storage company called Union.”
Sadi’s pulse climbed again.
“Why?”
“For things he didn’t trust inside the house.”
Mick, pale from blood loss, spoke from the opposite seat.
“Ruth went there the morning she died.”
Victor looked at him.
“You’re sure?”
“I drove her.”
Sadi closed her fist around the key.
May you like
Mick’s voice weakened.
“She told me if anything happened to her, box 317 would destroy Carlo Costello.”
