Chapter 4 - The Woman in the Red CoatBy sunrise, the street outside our building had become a crime scene.
Not officially.
Officially, the police had called it a random shooting.
Unofficially, Elias Baron had six men stationed on every corner.
The dead woman lay beneath a white sheet.
She wore a red coat.
I recognized her shoes.
They were the shoes I'd seen standing outside the pharmacy that morning.
She had been watching me.
Elias stood beside me.
“Her name is Clara Voss.”
“Who was she?”
“One of mine.”
“Your employee?”
“Not exactly.”
He looked at me.
“She was a courier.”
I shivered.
“She called me.”
“Yes.”
“She knew my name.”
“She knew Daniel.”
That made me turn.
“How?”
Elias stared at the body.
“Because she was one of the people helping him.”
The police tape moved in the wind.
“Helping him do what?”
“Disappear.”
I stared at him.
“You knew?”
“Not until last night.”
“Then why was she watching me?”
“She was protecting you.”
“From what?”
Elias didn't answer.
Instead, he walked into the apartment.
He removed his coat and rolled up his sleeves.
“You're leaving.”
“Where?”
“My house.”
“No.”
“Adeline.”
“I won't become your prisoner.”
“You won't be.”
“You accused me yesterday.”
“I was wrong.”
“That doesn't make me trust you.”
His eyes held mine.
“I don't need your trust yet.”
He looked at Evan.
“I need you alive.”
Evan coughed.
Elias immediately crossed the room.
“His medication?”
“Almost gone.”
“Doctor?”
“Money is the problem.”
“I'll handle it.”
“No.”
“You can argue later.”
He picked up his phone.
“Get the doctor who treated him last month.”
I stepped between him and the doorway.
“Why are you doing this?”
His gaze softened for one brief second.
“Because your brother once did the same for me.”
Then he walked away.
We arrived at the Baron mansion forty minutes later.
The place was enormous.
I'd cleaned half the rooms.
I'd never realized how much space there was because I had always used the service entrance.
Elias took us upstairs.
Not to the guest rooms.
To a private corridor I'd never seen.
At the end was a steel door.
He entered a code.
Inside was an office covered in maps.
Photos.
Documents.
And one enormous board.
Names.
Dates.
Companies.
Bank accounts.
Faces connected by red thread.
I recognized three of the faces immediately.
Victor Hale.
A Boston police captain.
And the owner of the warehouse where Daniel had supposedly died.
My stomach turned.
“Why were you tracking them?”
“Because they are Black Harbor.”
“Then why did you suspect me?”
“Because your employment file appeared in their database.”
“What?”
Elias handed me a folder.
There was a copy of my identity documents.
My signature.
My apartment.
My work schedule.
Everything.
At the top was one handwritten line:
Asset candidate: Adeline Hayes.
I stared.
“I never agreed to anything.”
“I know.”
“Then who put my name here?”
“We're trying to find out.”
Evan suddenly pointed at the wall.
“That's him.”
We turned.
He was pointing at one of the photographs.
A man in a dark suit.
Standing beside Daniel.
My brother had his hand on the man's shoulder.
I recognized him.
“That's Mr. Mercer.”
Elias looked at me.
“Who?”
“The man who came to our apartment after Daniel died.”
Elias walked toward the board.
His fingers stopped over the photograph.
Then he pulled another picture from a drawer.
Same man.
Different year.
Same face.
Except in the second picture, he was much younger.
Standing beside Elias's father.
Evan whispered:
“Is that him?”
Elias nodded.
“That is Jonathan Vale.”
“Who is Jonathan Vale?”
“My father's right hand.”
I stared.
“You said his name was Mercer.”
“That was one of his names.”
A terrible realization settled over me.
“Then why did he tell us Daniel was dead?”
Elias didn't answer.
Because he had just noticed something on the photograph.
A small reflection in a window behind Jonathan Vale.
A woman.
Wearing the same red coat as Clara.
Alive.
Watching Daniel.
Elias grabbed the magnifying glass.
“That's impossible.”
“What?”
“She was there that night.”
“Clara?”
“Yes.”
I looked at the image.
The woman in red stood outside the warehouse.
Three years ago.
Alive.
And behind her was a black sedan.
Its license plate was visible.
Elias zoomed in.
His face changed.
“That car belongs to Victor Hale.”
I felt cold.
Then Evan whispered:
“Adeline.”
He was staring at the laptop.
“There's another file.”
I turned.
The file name was simple.
HAYES FAMILY.
Elias opened it.
Inside were medical records.
School records.
Bank statements.
Photographs.
Then one final document.
A surveillance report dated two weeks before Daniel disappeared.
The final line read:
The younger brother has begun asking questions.
Evan stepped backward.
“I never asked anyone anything.”
Elias looked at him.
“Someone thought you would.”
The room became silent.
Then an alarm sounded downstairs.
One of Elias's men shouted:
“Boss!”
Elias drew his weapon.
“What?”
“We found someone inside the house.”
“Who?”
The answer came through the radio.
A pause.
May you like
Then:
“Victor Hale.”
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