Chapter 2 - The Route He Never Told AnyoneElias Baron returned before noon.
He didn't knock.
Three black SUVs stopped outside the building, and six men entered the hallway without saying a word.
By the time Elias reached our apartment, I had already moved Evan's mattress away from the window.
He noticed.
“You listen quickly.”
“I survive quickly.”
His mouth almost curved.
Almost.
Then he saw the blood on my kitchen floor.
I froze.
So did he.
“Evan?”
My brother was in the bedroom.
The blood wasn't his.
It had seeped from underneath our refrigerator.
Elias motioned to one of his men.
The refrigerator was dragged away from the wall.
Behind it sat a black canvas bag.
I had never seen it before.
Elias crouched.
“Don't touch it.”
He opened the zipper with a gloved hand.
Inside were three burner phones, a handgun, two passports, and a folded map of Boston.
There were red circles around three locations.
One was Elias's warehouse.
Another was his mansion.
The third was our apartment.
My blood ran cold.
“This wasn't here this morning.”
“I know.”
“You followed me here.”
“Yes.”
“And the bag wasn't here.”
“No.”
He looked at me.
“Then someone followed me here too.”
One of his men examined the passports.
“Boss.”
Elias took them.
The first belonged to a man named Michael Grant.
The second belonged to Daniel Hayes.
My knees nearly gave out.
“No.”
I grabbed the passport.
It was real.
Daniel's face stared back at me.
Same eyes.
Same scar.
Same crooked smile.
Date of birth.
Everything.
But beneath the photograph was a name that wasn't his.
David Mercer.
I looked up.
“Why does my brother have another identity?”
Elias didn't answer.
“Why?”
He took the passport from my hand.
“Because he was undercover.”
The room went silent.
I laughed once.
Not because anything was funny.
Because sometimes the truth is so impossible that your brain rejects it before your heart can break.
“Daniel was a soldier.”
“Yes.”
“He died.”
“I don't think so.”
Evan appeared in the doorway.
He looked terrified.
“What did you say?”
Elias turned.
“I said I don't think your brother died.”
Evan stared at him.
“Then why didn't he come home?”
“Because someone wanted him erased.”
My eyes burned.
“Why?”
Elias looked at the map.
“Because your brother discovered something.”
“What?”
He pointed to the red circles.
“These locations aren't random.”
He tapped the mansion.
“My headquarters.”
Then the warehouse.
“One of my distribution sites.”
Then our apartment.
“And your home.”
I stared.
“What connects them?”
Elias was silent.
Then one of his men entered.
“Boss. We found this under the floorboard.”
He held up a brass key.
Daniel's initials were engraved into it.
D.H.
My hands shook.
“I've never seen that.”
Elias turned the key over.
There was a number scratched into the metal.
“What does it open?”
“I don't know.”
He slipped it into his pocket.
I reached for it.
Elias moved faster.
“No.”
“It's my brother's.”
“Exactly.”
He walked toward the window.
“Someone planted that bag here.”
“So?”
“So they wanted me to find it.”
He looked at me.
“And whoever planted it knows you.”
“Then we should call the police.”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“Because the police already searched this building twice.”
I stared at him.
“When?”
“Yesterday.”
My stomach dropped.
“Why?”
“Someone reported hearing gunshots in your apartment.”
Evan looked at me.
We had heard nothing.
Elias's expression darkened.
“The police searched every room.”
He stepped closer.
“They didn't find the bag because it wasn't here yet.”
I felt suddenly trapped.
“Then who put it here?”
“I have a guess.”
“Who?”
“Victor Hale.”
My fingers went numb.
Elias noticed.
“You trust him.”
“I don't.”
“You defended him.”
“I said I've seen him.”
“He visited your apartment after Daniel's death.”
“Yes.”
“What did he give you?”
“An envelope.”
“What was inside?”
“Money. A letter.”
“Do you still have it?”
I looked toward the bedroom.
“Yes.”
Elias followed me.
I pulled open an old metal box beneath Evan's bed.
The letter was still there.
Yellowed paper.
Folded twice.
I handed it to Elias.
He read it.
His eyes stopped.
“What?”
He handed it back.
“Read the final line.”
I did.
My chest tightened.
If Elias Baron ever comes looking for you, trust him.
I looked up.
“I've never shown this to anyone.”
Elias took a breath.
“Neither have I.”
“Then how did Daniel know your name?”
He stared at the letter.
“I met your brother six months before he officially died.”
“When?”
“Three years ago.”
My heart began pounding.
“Where?”
“Boston.”
“That makes no sense.”
“It does if the man we buried wasn't Daniel.”
Silence.
Then a phone rang.
Not Elias's.
Mine.
I looked at the screen.
Unknown number.
I answered.
Nobody spoke.
Then came a whisper.
A man's voice.
“Adeline?”
“Yes.”
“You need to leave that apartment.”
“Who is this?”
“If Baron is with you, do not let him see the back of Daniel's photograph.”
I turned toward the table.
The caller continued.
“He doesn't know what Daniel left there.”
The line went dead.
Elias was already moving.
He reached the photograph first.
He turned it over.
There was nothing.
Just cardboard.
He pressed his thumb against the corner.
The backing opened.
Something small fell onto the table.
A microSD card.
Elias stared at it.
Then at me.
“You were never the target.”
May you like
He picked up the card.
“You were the hiding place.”
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