Chapter 7 - THE SECOND BETRAYAL
Saint emerged through the smoke.
A piece of fabric hung from his teeth.
Marco grabbed the dog and pulled him clear.
Josie dropped beside Saint, checking him frantically.
“You're okay. You're okay.”
Saint coughed but remained standing.
Carlo examined the fabric.
“Jacket.”
Marco looked toward the burning corridor.
“Someone was upstairs.”
The voice had sounded like Victor.
But Victor couldn't have been there.
Unless—
Marco's burner phone rang.
Carlo answered.
His face changed.
“What?”
He listened.
Then slowly looked at Marco.
“The guards at the safe house are dead.”
Josie's stomach dropped.
“Victor?”
“Gone.”
Marco's expression became lethal.
“How?”
“The security footage shows one of our own men letting him out.”
“Who?”
Carlo swallowed.
“Evan.”
Marco closed his eyes.
Evan Pike.
A man who had worked security for him for nine years.
Someone Saint had also trusted.
Until recently.
Marco understood the design now.
Victor wasn't working alone.
Maybe Victor wasn't even leading it.
The entire operation had been built on one principle:
Make Marco distrust everyone.
And it was working.
Ruthie was taken to Dr. Levin for evaluation.
Josie refused to leave until Ruthie grabbed her hand.
“Go.”
“I should stay.”
“You should find out why lunatics keep kidnapping people.”
“Ruthie.”
“I'm fine.”
“You were tied to a chair in a building that exploded.”
“I've had worse dates.”
Josie stared.
Ruthie squeezed her hand.
“You saved me by not giving them what they wanted.”
“We almost didn't reach you.”
“But you did.”
Josie glanced toward Marco.
Ruthie followed her gaze.
“That man scares me.”
“He scares everybody.”
“Not you.”
Josie frowned.
“He definitely scares me.”
“No.”
Ruthie studied her.
“You're scared of what happens if you trust him.”
Josie looked away.
“That's different.”
“Exactly.”
Marco approached.
“We need to move.”
Ruthie pointed at him.
“If she gets killed, I will haunt you.”
Marco nodded.
“Understood.”
“And don't think being scary will stop me.”
“Nothing I've seen suggests it would.”
Ruthie appeared satisfied.
Josie followed Marco outside.
Rain had replaced snow.
The city looked colorless.
They drove to an underground garage beneath one of Marco's office buildings.
Andre was waiting.
“I decrypted more files.”
Marco led everyone into a conference room.
Andre connected a laptop.
A spreadsheet appeared.
Hundreds of payments.
Dates.
Addresses.
Names.
Josie recognized none.
Marco recognized several.
City contractors.
A judge.
A deputy police superintendent.
Victor Lang.
Evan Pike.
Then Andre opened another folder.
Photographs.
Megan Brennan.
Daniel Reese.
Several men Josie didn't know.
One image showed Megan outside a small apartment building.
Josie's building.
“What year?” she whispered.
“2003.”
Josie moved closer.
A man stood behind Megan.
His face partially turned.
Andre enhanced the image.
Josie's breath stopped.
“No.”
Marco looked at her.
“You know him?”
Josie backed away.
“No.”
“Josie.”
She shook her head.
But she did.
Not from childhood.
From seventeen years old.
Her final foster home.
A man who had lived two doors down.
A man who had always seemed to know when Josie was alone.
A man who once offered her cash to run errands and became furious when she refused.
She hadn't seen him in ten years.
“His name is Evan Pike.”
Silence.
Marco looked at the image.
Then at Josie.
“My Evan Pike?”
“He was my foster family's neighbor.”
Marco's face changed.
“That isn't coincidence.”
Josie wrapped her arms around herself.
“He used to watch me.”
“How?”
“He'd sit in his truck outside. Sometimes he gave my foster father money.”
“For what?”
“I don't know.”
“You never told anyone?”
“I told my caseworker once.”
“What happened?”
“She moved me to another house for three weeks.”
“And then?”
“They sent me back.”
Marco's jaw tightened.
Josie stared at the old photo.
“He knew my mother.”
Andre clicked another file.
A scanned letter appeared.
Handwritten.
Signed Megan.
Josie stepped closer.
The letter had never been sent.
If anything happens to me, Evelyn has the second copy. Do not let them take Josie. Pike knows where I live.
Josie's knees buckled.
Marco caught her elbow.
She didn't pull away this time.
“Who's Evelyn?” he asked.
Andre searched.
“Evelyn Brennan. Megan's younger sister.”
Josie stared.
“I don't have an aunt.”
Andre looked at her.
“According to this, you did.”
“Did?”
He hesitated.
“She died six years ago.”
Josie swallowed hard.
“Where?”
“Milwaukee.”
“Did she have children?”
“Checking.”
The room felt too small.
Everything Josie believed about her life was being rewritten by strangers and old files.
“Why did nobody come for me?”
Marco didn't answer.
Andre did.
“Maybe someone made sure they couldn't.”
A new email alert appeared on the laptop.
Andre frowned.
“What is that?”
The message had no sender.
Only a video attachment.
Marco said, “Don't open it on the network.”
Andre transferred it to an isolated device.
The screen came alive.
Victor sat in a chair.
Not restrained.
Smiling.
Beside him stood Evan Pike.
Older now.
Heavier.
But Josie knew him instantly.
Her body went rigid.
Evan looked directly into the camera.
“Hello, Josie.”
Her stomach turned.
“I've been wondering what you'd look like grown.”
Marco stepped in front of the screen.
Josie moved around him.
“No.”
She needed to see.
Evan continued.
“Your mother caused a lot of trouble.”
Josie's hands curled into fists.
“So did you.”
Victor laughed.
Evan held up a photograph.
Four-year-old Josie.
Sitting on Megan's lap.
“If you want the rest of your mother's story, come to the address below.”
Marco said, “Absolutely not.”
The video continued.
“Come without DeSantis.”
A digital clock appeared.
Six hours.
“If you don't, every file Daniel collected goes public.”
Marco frowned.
Victor leaned toward the camera.
“Not just the corrupt officials, Marco.”
His smile widened.
“Everything your father did too.”
The video ended.
Josie looked at Marco.
“You're worried.”
“No.”
“You are.”
Marco said nothing.
“What's in those files?”
“My father's operations.”
“Crimes?”
“Yes.”
Josie's voice sharpened.
“How many?”
“I don't know.”
“You expect me to trust you while you're hiding that?”
“I never told you I was innocent.”
The answer silenced her.
Marco moved closer.
“My father built an empire using methods I won't defend.”
“And you inherited it.”
“Yes.”
“You kept it.”
“Yes.”
There was no excuse.
No attempt to make himself heroic.
Josie appreciated that more than she wanted to.
“What happens if everything goes public?”
“I could lose most of what I own.”
“Prison?”
“Possibly.”
“And you're still not giving them the card?”
“No.”
“Why?”
“Because the card doesn't only expose me.”
He pointed toward the laptop.
“It exposes judges, cops, people who've been selling cases, evidence, contracts, lives.”
Josie looked at him.
“You'd let yourself go down too?”
“If that's where the evidence leads.”
She searched his face.
“Why?”
Marco's gaze moved toward Saint.
“Because Daniel died getting that information out.”
Then back to Josie.
“Your mother may have died for the same reason.”
Josie felt something shift.
Marco DeSantis was dangerous.
That wasn't changing.
But perhaps dangerous and evil were not the same thing.
She looked at the address attached to the video.
An old municipal records building.
“I need to go.”
“No.”
“We need Evan alive.”
“We can get him without using you.”
“He wants me.”
“Exactly.”
Josie stepped closer.
“You said you don't get to control where I go.”
Marco remembered.
His face tightened.
“I hate when people use my own words against me.”
“I learned from the best.”
“You've known me three days.”
“Feels longer.”
For the first time since the warehouse explosion, Marco almost smiled.
Then Saint stood.
The dog walked toward Josie.
He pressed his head against her hand.
Marco looked at him.
“You too?”
Saint stared.
Marco exhaled.
“Fine.”
Josie blinked.
“Fine?”
“You go.”
Carlo looked shocked.
“Boss—”
Marco continued.
“But we're going to do this intelligently.”
Josie nodded.
“Meaning?”
Marco's eyes hardened.
“They want a frightened poor woman to walk into that building alone.”
May you like
He looked toward the city lights.
“So that's exactly what we're going to give them.”
