Chapter 2 - The Locked Room
Morgana stared at the photograph until the letters blurred.
“Delivery — midnight — alive.”
Roman took the phone from her.
“Hayes.”
“Already rerouting.”
The SUV turned sharply.
Morgana grabbed the door handle for balance.
“Where are we going?”
“Not to my house.”
“You said—”
“Plans changed.”
Roman called someone.
“Lock down the east property. Nobody comes through the gate without Hayes confirming them.”
Morgana looked from him to the driver.
“What does that photograph mean?”
Roman didn't answer.
“Roman.”
His gaze shifted toward her.
It was the first time she had used his name.
“My father sold me twice, didn't he?”
“Yes.”
The bluntness hurt more than a lie would have.
Roman leaned back.
“But something is wrong.”
“What?”
“The Vulovs already sold me Jason's note.”
“So?”
“So they accepted money for a debt they apparently still intend to collect.”
Morgana's throat tightened.
“By taking me.”
“Possibly.”
“Why?”
“That is what I intend to find out.”
The SUV left the city.
Thirty minutes later they entered a private road surrounded by trees.
Iron gates opened.
The house beyond them was enormous but strangely austere—concrete, dark wood, glass.
Inside, Roman led Morgana upstairs.
“This room is yours.”
She remained at the threshold.
King-size bed.
Private bathroom.
Closet.
No chains.
No barred windows.
Roman pointed to the deadbolt.
“It locks from inside.”
Morgana looked at him.
“And you don't have a key?”
“I have a master key for emergencies.”
Her expression changed.
Roman reached into his pocket.
He removed a small brass key.
Then he placed it on the dresser inside the room.
“That's the master.”
Morgana stared.
“You're giving it to me?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because you're afraid of me.”
He stepped backward into the hallway.
“You'll sleep better knowing I can't enter.”
Morgana closed the door.
Turned the deadbolt.
Then slid down against it.
For the first time in years, she cried somewhere nobody could reach her.
Morning came too quickly.
At 6:45 she showered and changed into clean clothes from her bag.
Roman was downstairs at seven.
Black turtleneck.
Dark trousers.
Coffee.
He looked almost normal.
Almost.
“Coffee is there.”
Morgana poured a cup.
“Hayes will take you shopping.”
“I don't need anything.”
“You own one bag.”
“I've survived.”
Roman looked at her.
“Surviving isn't the standard here.”
She didn't know what to say.
He slid a folder across the island.
Employment agreement.
Morgana opened it.
Hourly wage: $28.
Health insurance.
Paid time off.
Private accommodation.
Meals included.
No room-and-board deduction.
She looked up.
“You said minimum wage.”
“I changed my mind.”
“Why?”
“You're going to manage the household eventually.”
“You don't know if I'm capable.”
“I investigated you.”
Morgana stiffened.
“When?”
“Last night.”
Roman drank his coffee.
“You worked fifty-eight hours last week. Your diner has passed every health inspection on shifts where you closed. You manage inventory even though you're paid as waitstaff. You completed two years of community college before your tuition money disappeared.”
Morgana's face went still.
Jason had gambled it.
Roman knew that too.
“You investigated everything.”
“Yes.”
“That's creepy.”
“Yes.”
Again, almost funny.
Almost.
Hayes entered.
“Boss.”
Roman looked up.
Hayes placed a photograph on the counter.
Jason.
Warehouse.
The same man from the previous night.
Roman tapped the unfamiliar man's face.
“Name?”
“Caleb Mercer.”
Morgana nearly dropped her coffee.
Roman noticed.
“You know him.”
“He was my mother's friend.”
“How close?”
“I don't know. He came around when I was little.”
Roman looked at Hayes.
“Background.”
“Working on it.”
Morgana picked up the photograph.
“Why does he have my picture?”
Roman's answer was interrupted by the security system.
A soft electronic tone.
Hayes touched his earpiece.
Then his face changed.
“What?”
“Vehicle at the outer gate.”
“Who?”
Hayes looked at Morgana.
“Jason Hale.”
Roman's jaw tightened.
Morgana stood.
“I want to see him.”
“No.”
“He's my father.”
“He sold you twice.”
“Which is why I want answers.”
Roman studied her.
Then nodded.
“Security room. You don't go near the gate.”
They watched through cameras.
Jason stood outside the iron gates.
His face was bruised.
His jacket was torn.
He held something above his head.
A white envelope.
He looked directly into the camera.
“Morgana!”
She flinched.
Jason shouted again.
“I know you're watching!”
Roman reached for the intercom.
Morgana stopped him.
“Wait.”
Jason lifted the envelope.
“They lied to me!”
Roman's eyes narrowed.
Jason continued.
“It wasn't about the money!”
Morgana moved closer to the screen.
“What is he talking about?”
Jason looked over his shoulder.
Terrified.
Then back at the camera.
“Morgana, your mother didn't die the way I told you!”
The room went silent.
Morgana stopped breathing.
Roman slowly looked at her.
Jason shoved the envelope through the bars.
Then headlights appeared behind him.
A black sedan.
Jason turned.
His face changed.
Roman reached for his weapon.
“Hayes.”
Security guards moved on the monitors.
Jason ran toward the gate.
“OPEN IT!”
The sedan stopped.
Its rear door opened.
A man stepped out.
Caleb Mercer.
He looked directly toward the security camera.
Then he smiled.
Jason backed against the gate.
Caleb raised one hand.
He was holding an old silver necklace.
Morgana recognized it immediately.
It had belonged to her mother.
Caleb looked into the camera.
His lips moved.
Roman increased the audio.
Four words came through the speaker.
May you like
“Tell Morgana I'm ready.”
Then Caleb reached into his coat.
