Chapter 4 - Warehouse Eighty-Six
“No.”
Dante’s answer came before the call had fully ended.
Luca lowered the phone.
Maren looked at him.
“No what?”
“You are not going.”
“That’s my warehouse.”
“It is also an obvious trap.”
“Celeste may die.”
Dante’s eyes hardened.
“And you think the man who burned your apartment will politely return you afterward?”
Detective Ortiz stepped between them.
“Nobody is going anywhere until we know who made that call.”
Maren looked at her.
“You heard him.”
“I heard a threat.”
“Against Celeste.”
“Yes.”
“And he specifically asked for me.”
“Yes.”
“Then use me.”
Ortiz shook her head.
“This isn’t television.”
“No. On television, people listen when told not to enter burning buildings.”
Dante gave her a look.
She ignored him.
Ortiz began organizing units.
The plan took forty minutes.
Maren hated every second.
The police wanted surveillance.
Dante wanted his own people positioned nearby.
Ortiz wanted Dante’s people nowhere near an active operation.
Dante informed her that request was unlikely to be honored.
Maren eventually sat between them and said, “Can everyone stop measuring territory and focus on the kidnapped woman?”
Silence.
Luca covered a laugh with a cough.
Dante glared at him.
By 11:30 p.m., Maren wore a hidden transmitter beneath her dress.
Ortiz had fitted her with a light protective vest that pulled painfully against her burns.
“You say the word ‘garden,’” Ortiz told her, “we come in.”
“Garden?”
“Easy to remember.”
Dante stood across the room.
“You’re not going inside alone.”
“Yes, I am.”
“No.”
Ortiz said, “Yes, she is.”
Dante looked like he wanted to arrest Ortiz himself.
Maren touched his sleeve.
He looked down at her hand.
“Dante.”
“I owe you.”
“You don’t owe me control.”
That stopped him.
She continued.
“You want to repay what happened three years ago?”
“Yes.”
“Trust me.”
He stared at her for a long moment.
Then nodded.
“One condition.”
“What?”
“If anything feels wrong, you leave.”
“Fine.”
“Immediately.”
“Fine.”
“No heroics.”
Maren raised an eyebrow.
“That rule feels hypocritical coming from you.”
At 11:57 p.m., Maren walked toward Warehouse 86.
The building had belonged to her grandmother.
As a child, she had played between stacks of imported furniture stored there.
Her grandmother, Evelyn Vale, believed property was freedom.
“People can steal money,” she once told Maren. “Land is harder to carry away.”
Apparently someone had tried.
The warehouse door stood open.
Maren entered.
Single bulbs illuminated the cavernous interior.
“Celeste?”
No answer.
She walked deeper.
The air smelled of dust and machine oil.
Then she saw a chair.
Celeste sat tied to it.
Tape covered her mouth.
Her eyes widened when she saw Maren.
Maren moved closer.
A voice echoed.
“Stop.”
Ryan Keller stepped from behind a support column.
Forty-one.
Perfect hair.
Expensive coat.
A pistol in his hand.
Maren stopped.
“You always did enjoy dramatic entrances.”
Ryan smiled.
“Still sarcastic. Good.”
“You burned my apartment.”
“Technically, Evan lit the accelerant.”
Her stomach tightened.
“He said you did.”
“Evan says whatever keeps Evan alive.”
Ryan walked closer.
“Though I admit the plan was mine.”
“Why?”
“You know why.”
“The land.”
“The access road.”
“You could have offered to buy it.”
“I did.”
“No. Evan did.”
“You refused.”
“It was mine.”
Ryan shrugged.
“And now it’s almost mine.”
“Your forged contract won’t hold.”
His smile vanished slightly.
“Dante Moretti?”
“Among others.”
Ryan looked toward the shadows.
“He’s listening, isn’t he?”
Maren said nothing.
Ryan raised the pistol.
“Tell him to stay out.”
Celeste began making frantic sounds behind the tape.
Maren looked at her.
Ryan smiled.
“She finally realized I don’t need her anymore.”
Maren looked back.
“You used her company filing.”
“Very useful woman.”
Celeste glared at him.
“Did she know?”
“Enough.”
Maren’s heart sank.
Ryan walked behind Celeste.
“She knew Evan was moving your insurance money.”
Celeste shook her head violently.
“She knew about the Piermont deal.”
More head shaking.
“She did not know about the fire.”
Celeste stopped.
Ryan smiled.
“See? Everyone has standards.”
Maren kept her breathing slow.
Ortiz had told her not to provoke him.
Dante had told her to run.
Her instincts told her something else.
Keep him talking.
“What do you want?”
“Your signature.”
“You already forged it.”
“I need a legitimate release terminating the dispute.”
“Why would I sign?”
Ryan placed the pistol against Celeste’s shoulder.
Celeste squeezed her eyes shut.
“That.”
Maren looked at the table nearby.
Documents.
Pen.
“You let her go first.”
“No.”
“Then shoot her.”
Ryan blinked.
Celeste stared at Maren in horror.
Maren kept her face expressionless.
“Go ahead.”
Ryan studied her.
“You don’t believe me.”
“I believe you killed people.”
His expression shifted.
“You know about Wren?”
Maren’s pulse jumped.
She hadn’t mentioned the lawyer.
Now she had confirmation.
“Car accidents happen.”
“Apparently.”
Ryan moved closer.
“You should have died in the fire.”
“I heard.”
“It would have simplified everything.”
“Sorry to inconvenience you.”
He raised the gun toward her.
“Sign.”
Maren approached the table.
Her wrapped left arm trembled.
Not from fear.
From nerve damage.
Ryan misread it.
“Scared?”
“Yes.”
That surprised him.
Maren picked up the pen.
“I’m terrified.”
“Then sign.”
She stared at the paper.
The words blurred.
Her mind flashed back to the hospital.
Evan guiding a pen into her damaged hand.
Sign here.
Trust me.
She had signed everything.
Not anymore.
Maren dropped the pen.
“No.”
Ryan’s face went flat.
“What?”
“I said no.”
His gun rose.
Then every light in the warehouse went out.
Darkness.
Ryan cursed.
Celeste screamed behind the tape.
Maren dropped immediately.
A gunshot exploded.
Then another.
Men shouted.
“Police!”
“Maren!”
Dante.
She crawled behind a crate.
A third gunshot.
Someone crashed into metal shelving.
Emergency lights flickered on.
Maren saw Ryan running toward a side door.
Ortiz chased him.
Dante reached Maren.
“You hurt?”
“No.”
He checked anyway.
“You said no heroics.”
“I signed nothing.”
“That isn’t what I meant.”
Luca and an officer cut Celeste free.
She ripped the tape from her mouth.
“Ryan has another exit!”
Ortiz shouted from the far side.
“Where?”
Celeste pointed.
“Loading tunnel!”
Dante started after them.
Maren grabbed his sleeve.
“Don’t.”
“He’ll escape.”
“You’re not police.”
His expression said that distinction had rarely influenced his decisions.
Sirens surrounded the warehouse.
Minutes later, Ortiz returned.
Alone.
“He got out through the storm tunnel.”
Dante cursed softly.
Ortiz looked at Celeste.
“You’re coming with me.”
Celeste nodded.
Maren walked toward her.
“Did you know?”
Celeste’s eyes filled.
“About the money?”
“Yes.”
Maren waited.
“I knew Evan was moving it.”
“You let him.”
“He told me it belonged to both of you.”
“You knew it didn’t.”
Celeste looked down.
“Yes.”
Maren swallowed.
“Did you know about the fire?”
“No.”
“I need the truth.”
“I swear.”
Celeste began crying.
“I thought you were weak. I thought he stayed because he felt guilty. He told me you used the accident to control him.”
Maren nearly laughed.
“I spent five months apologizing for needing help.”
Celeste covered her face.
“I was horrible.”
“Yes.”
The answer surprised both of them.
Maren continued.
“But horrible isn’t the same as murderous.”
Celeste looked at her.
“If you help Ortiz put Ryan away, I won’t protect you from the consequences of what you did.”
Celeste nodded.
“I understand.”
“No. I don’t think you do.”
Maren leaned closer.
“You watched a wounded woman lose everything and decided you deserved part of what was left.”
Celeste’s face crumpled.
“Live with that.”
Maren walked away.
Outside, dawn had begun coloring the edge of the sky.
Dante stood beside his SUV.
“You did well.”
“I’m exhausted.”
“That too.”
She stared back at the warehouse.
“My grandmother loved this place.”
“You’re keeping it?”
“I don’t know.”
He nodded.
They started toward the vehicle.
Then Detective Ortiz called after them.
“Maren.”
She turned.
Ortiz was holding Ryan’s abandoned briefcase.
“We found something.”
Inside were financial records.
Property maps.
Copies of Maren’s medical records.
And a photograph.
Maren took it.
Her grandmother stood outside Warehouse 86 beside a younger Ryan Keller.
Next to Ryan stood another man.
Maren recognized him instantly.
Her breath disappeared.
Dante looked at the photograph.
“Who is that?”
May you like
Maren whispered the answer.
“My father.”
