Chapter 8 - THE GIRL THEY THOUGHT WAS EASY TO BREAK
Josie wore her old gas-station coat.
Same worn sneakers.
Same messy knot in her hair.
No visible weapon.
No phone.
She looked exactly like what Evan Pike expected.
Small.
Poor.
Alone.
What he didn't know was that Saint's old leather collar now contained a new tracker.
Josie wore it wrapped beneath her coat around her waist.
Marco's men were positioned three blocks away.
No one would move unless Josie gave the signal or they lost contact.
Marco hated the plan.
Josie could tell by the way he'd gone silent.
“You're staring.”
They sat in the back of a delivery van.
“I'm thinking.”
“Very aggressively.”
“You don't have to do this.”
“Yes, I do.”
“No.”
Josie looked at him.
“You're going to say no after agreeing?”
“I reserve the right to reconsider bad decisions.”
“It isn't your decision.”
Marco exhaled.
“There's that sentence again.”
Josie smiled faintly.
Then Marco reached into his pocket and handed her a tiny device.
“What is it?”
“Panic transmitter.”
“You said no electronics.”
“It's radio-based.”
“How do I use it?”
“Press twice.”
“Then what?”
“We come in.”
“Even if I'm talking?”
“Yes.”
“Even if I look okay?”
“Yes.”
“Marco.”
“Those are the terms.”
Josie studied him.
“You're worried about me.”
He met her eyes.
“Yes.”
The answer came too quickly.
Neither spoke for a moment.
Josie slipped the device into her sleeve.
“I'll be okay.”
Marco's jaw tightened.
“Don't promise things you can't guarantee.”
She recognized her own words.
“Fair.”
Saint whined from the front compartment.
Josie climbed out.
The municipal records building had been abandoned for eleven years.
Windows boarded.
Stone facade streaked black from weather.
She entered through an unlocked side door.
“Hello?”
Her voice echoed.
Lights flickered on deeper inside.
“Second floor,” Evan called.
Josie climbed.
Every step brought back pieces of being seventeen.
Evan's truck outside the foster house.
His cigarette smell.
The way he called her “Meg” once by mistake.
She reached the second floor.
Evan stood behind a table.
Victor beside him.
Two armed men near the windows.
Josie's heart hammered.
“You came.”
Evan smiled.
“You knew I would.”
“Where's DeSantis?”
“Not here.”
Victor looked amused.
“She's lying.”
Josie shrugged.
“Then shoot me and find out.”
The men exchanged looks.
That wasn't the answer they expected.
Evan laughed.
“You really are Megan's daughter.”
“Stop saying her name like you knew her.”
“I knew her better than you did.”
“You murdered her?”
The room went quiet.
Evan tilted his head.
“No.”
Josie's pulse jumped.
“Who did?”
“Your mother wasn't murdered.”
“You changed the autopsy.”
Evan's smile faded.
“She was supposed to disappear.”
“What does that mean?”
“Megan agreed to leave Chicago.”
“Why?”
“She had records powerful men wanted destroyed.”
“Marco's father?”
“Among others.”
Victor leaned against the table.
“Your mother thought she could play both sides.”
Josie ignored him.
“What happened?”
Evan studied her.
“She hid copies.”
“Where?”
“That is the twenty-three-year question.”
Josie realized something.
They didn't know.
That was why they had watched her.
Why Evan had stayed near one of her foster homes.
“You thought I had them.”
“We thought Megan gave you something before she died.”
“I was four.”
“She was desperate.”
Josie remembered the bathtub.
The baseball bat.
“What happened that night?”
Evan's smile vanished.
“She called someone she shouldn't have.”
“Who?”
“Daniel Reese.”
Josie's breath stopped.
“Daniel tried to help her.”
“Yes.”
“So he knew me?”
“Not exactly.”
Evan circled the table.
“He knew you existed. That's why he kept digging.”
“And Saint?”
“Wrong place, wrong time.”
Josie's face hardened.
“You tortured him.”
Victor smiled.
“He wouldn't drop the capsule.”
Something changed in Josie.
Until that second, fear had still controlled part of her.
Then she imagined Saint lying in the alley, bleeding and terrified, holding that tiny brass capsule while men hurt him.
The fear burned away.
“You're afraid of a dog.”
Victor's smile disappeared.
“What?”
“You're standing here with guns because a poisoned dog outsmarted you.”
One of the armed men snorted before catching himself.
Victor turned red.
Evan raised a hand.
“Enough.”
Josie continued.
“And now you're afraid of me.”
Evan laughed.
“You?”
“Yes.”
“Why would I fear you?”
“Because you spent twenty-three years looking for something a four-year-old girl supposedly knew.”
Evan's eyes narrowed.
“And you still haven't found it.”
Silence.
Josie knew she'd hit him.
“What did Megan hide?” he asked.
“I don't know.”
Evan stepped closer.
“Wrong answer.”
“I genuinely don't.”
He grabbed her coat.
Josie's body remembered being small.
Being trapped.
Being told adults could do whatever they wanted.
But she wasn't four anymore.
She drove her knee upward.
Evan doubled over.
Josie hit the panic transmitter twice.
Victor shouted.
“Grab her!”
The lights went out.
Marco had cut the power.
Gunfire erupted toward the windows.
Not bullets from Marco's side.
Victor's men firing blindly.
Josie crawled beneath the table.
Someone grabbed her ankle.
She kicked.
A man cursed.
Then a roar echoed through the building.
Saint.
Victor froze.
“No.”
Saint came through the doorway wearing a protective tactical harness, Carlo behind him.
The dog lunged toward Victor.
Victor ran.
Marco entered from the opposite hall.
“Josie!”
“Here!”
Marco reached her.
“Are you hit?”
“No.”
He checked her anyway.
“I said I'm fine.”
“Humor me.”
Evan appeared behind him holding a knife.
Josie saw him.
“Marco!”
Marco turned.
Too late.
Saint struck Evan from the side.
The knife flew.
Evan crashed into filing cabinets.
Carlo restrained him.
Victor reached the stairs.
Josie ran after him.
Marco grabbed her coat.
“Where are you going?”
“He has the drive!”
Victor had taken something from the table.
Andre's cloned memory card.
If he escaped, he could destroy or manipulate evidence.
Marco and Josie followed.
Victor reached the ground floor.
He shoved open the rear door.
Stopped.
Police vehicles filled the alley.
Not Marco's people.
Federal agents.
Victor slowly raised his hands.
Marco looked at Carlo.
“You called federal?”
“No.”
An FBI agent entered.
“Marco DeSantis?”
“Yes.”
“Josie Brennan?”
Josie stepped forward.
“Yes?”
The woman reached into her coat and removed a badge.
“Special Agent Laura Beckett.”
She looked at Evan being dragged downstairs.
“We've been trying to arrest that man for nine years.”
Josie stared.
“How did you know we'd be here?”
Beckett reached into an evidence envelope.
Inside was an old letter.
“Because twenty-three years ago, Megan Brennan mailed something to my predecessor.”
Josie's world stopped.
The agent looked directly at her.
“Your mother didn't leave behind one copy of the evidence.”
May you like
She held up the envelope.
“She left three.”
