Chapter 7 - The Dead Man's SonRichard Rourke had returned for his heir
The garage doors were fully open.
Seven men stood outside.
All armed.
Maxwell looked at the exits.
“There are too many.”
My mother shook her head.
“There's another way.”
“Where?”
She pointed to a maintenance shaft above the car.
Maxwell looked at me.
“Can you climb?”
“Yes.”
“Good.”
He boosted me upward.
I reached the ladder.
My mother followed.
Maxwell came last.
We crawled through the narrow shaft while bullets struck the metal below.
At the far end, we emerged behind an abandoned warehouse.
A car waited there.
My mother took the keys.
We drove.
No headlights.
No destination.
Just darkness.
After an hour, Maxwell finally spoke.
“Why is Richard alive?”
My mother stared through the windshield.
“Because he never intended to die.”
“You helped him disappear.”
“No.”
“You knew.”
“I knew the death certificate was false.”
“Who created it?”
“Victor.”
Maxwell's hands tightened.
“You were working with Victor?”
“For six months.”
“Why?”
“To save Martha.”
I looked at her.
“What does Victor want from me?”
“He wants the ledger.”
“And Richard?”
“Richard wants everything.”
My mother looked at Maxwell.
“Your father believes the ledger can destroy his entire operation.”
Maxwell said nothing.
“What happens if he gets it?”
“He owns half the ports between Boston and Baltimore.”
“And the other half?”
“People who are terrified of him.”
My mother reached into the glove compartment.
She pulled out a small key.
“Take this.”
I stared at it.
“No.”
“You'll need it.”
“For the vault?”
“Yes.”
“Why give it to me?”
“Because the vault opens only with your blood.”
I thought she was joking.
She wasn't.
Maxwell looked at the key.
“Why?”
“Richard built the system around Martha's identity.”
“Why?”
“Because he wanted the ledger to survive even if everyone else died.”
Silence.
We drove toward Providence.
At 3:14 a.m., we reached a motel.
It looked deserted.
One room.
No cameras.
No staff.
Maxwell checked every window.
My mother slept.
I couldn't.
I sat across from Maxwell.
“How long can you walk?”
He looked at me.
“Without pain?”
“Yes.”
“About three hours.”
“And after that?”
“Numbness.”
“You've been hiding this for fourteen months.”
“I've been pretending for fourteen months.”
“Why exactly fourteen?”
His eyes lowered.
“Because that's how long it took me to discover who was watching me.”
“Who?”
He looked at the door.
“My own men.”
I frowned.
“Which ones?”
“Most of them.”
“What about Gideon?”
“He was loyal.”
“Then why did Elena say otherwise?”
“I don't know.”
I remembered Gideon’s last words.
Your sister.
Maybe he had lied.
Maybe he had tried to frame her.
Maybe he had been dying and confused.
Or maybe he had been telling the truth.
My mother woke suddenly.
“Get down.”
We dropped to the floor.
She pointed at the window.
A laser dot moved across the wall.
Then vanished.
Maxwell grabbed his gun.
A bullet shattered the television.
We crawled toward the bathroom.
Another bullet.
Then silence.
Maxwell opened the door.
The motel parking lot was empty.
No shooter.
Nothing.
He returned to the room.
My mother was staring at me.
“What?”
She looked terrified.
“Your necklace.”
“What about it?”
“Take it off.”
I did.
She turned it over.
Pressed the clasp.
A tiny compartment opened.
Inside was a microchip.
Maxwell stared.
“That isn't a key.”
My mother shook her head.
“No.”
“What is it?”
Her voice trembled.
“It contains the location of the ledger.”
My phone buzzed.
Unknown number.
A message appeared.
CHECK YOUR MOTHER'S LEFT WRIST.
I looked at her.
She slowly pulled back her sleeve.
There was a number tattooed on her wrist.
Then another message arrived.
WE HAVE HER OTHER WRIST.
My mother's eyes widened.
A red line of blood appeared under her sleeve.
May you like
Someone had just cut her.
From the other side of the wall.
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