Chapter 6 - The Last Person She Expected
Maren dropped the phone.
The door moved inward.
She grabbed the nearest object.
A brass candlestick.
“Don’t come in!”
The door stopped.
“Maren?”
She recognized the voice.
“Luca?”
Dante’s son stepped inside, hands raised.
“Please don’t kill me with home décor.”
Maren lowered the candlestick.
“How did you get a key?”
“Dad.”
“I told him I wanted to be alone.”
“He respected that for almost five hours.”
“That’s not respect.”
“For him, it’s tremendous growth.”
Maren bent down and grabbed her phone.
The call had disconnected.
Luca noticed her face.
“What happened?”
“My father called.”
His joking expression disappeared.
“What did he say?”
“Ryan didn’t order the fire.”
Luca shut the door.
“Who did?”
“He said a name.”
“And?”
Maren stared at him.
“Victor Hale.”
Luca went pale.
“You know him.”
“Yes.”
“Who is he?”
Luca hesitated.
“My father’s former business partner.”
Maren’s pulse climbed.
“Former criminal business partner?”
“Very former.”
“Meaning?”
“Victor tried to kill my father three years ago.”
The alley.
The gunshot.
Maren understood.
“You mean the night I found Dante?”
“Yes.”
Everything connected.
Or almost.
“Why would Victor care about my warehouse?”
“I don’t know.”
Dante arrived twelve minutes later.
He was furious.
Not at Maren.
At the name.
“Victor Hale has been missing for two years.”
“My father knew he was alive.”
“Apparently.”
“Why didn’t you tell me who shot you?”
“I didn’t think it mattered.”
“It matters now.”
Dante paced.
“Victor ran half the waterfront before I pushed him out. Smuggling. Extortion. Construction kickbacks.”
“And Piermont?”
Dante stopped.
“Yes.”
Maren stared.
“You wanted that land too.”
“Years ago.”
“Did my grandmother know you?”
“Yes.”
The answer struck her.
“You knew her.”
“I met Evelyn twice.”
Maren’s voice sharpened.
“You keep leaving out important things.”
Dante accepted the criticism.
“She refused to sell.”
“Did you threaten her?”
“No.”
“Did Victor?”
“Yes.”
Maren closed her eyes.
The letter.
Men who believed the riverfront could become luxury towers.
Not just Ryan.
Not just Thomas.
A much older fight.
Dante continued.
“I walked away from Piermont after Sofia became sick. Victor didn’t.”
“Then why shoot you?”
“Because I began cooperating with federal investigators against some of his operations.”
Maren stared.
“You became an informant?”
“I prefer ‘strategically civic-minded.’”
Luca sighed.
“Dad.”
“What?”
“This is serious.”
“I’m aware.”
Maren almost laughed despite herself.
Then her phone rang again.
Thomas.
She answered immediately.
“Where are you?”
“Penn Station.”
“What?”
“I came back.”
“Why?”
“Because I’m done running.”
Maren looked at Dante.
“My father is here.”
They reached Penn Station within thirty minutes.
Thomas Vale stood near a closed coffee kiosk.
He was sixty-one.
Gray hair.
Thin face.
Expensive coat that couldn’t hide exhaustion.
Maren stopped ten feet away.
He looked at her scars.
His expression broke.
“Oh, Maren.”
“Don’t.”
He stopped.
“You don’t get to look at me like you’re my father now.”
Pain crossed his face.
“I deserve that.”
“You deserve worse.”
“Yes.”
Dante remained behind her.
Thomas noticed him.
“Moretti.”
“Thomas.”
Maren looked between them.
“You know each other too?”
Thomas gave a bitter laugh.
“Your grandmother knew everyone.”
“Apparently except how to raise an honest son.”
He flinched.
Good.
She hated that it felt good.
They moved to a private waiting room secured by Dante’s men.
Thomas began talking.
Twenty years earlier, Piermont redevelopment was Victor Hale’s obsession.
Evelyn refused to sell.
Thomas disagreed.
Victor offered him money.
Then partnership.
Thomas accepted.
“I thought I could convince her,” he said.
“You tried to steal from Grandma.”
“Yes.”
“And me.”
“Later.”
Maren stared.
“At least you’re consistent.”
Thomas looked down.
“Ryan was my mistake.”
“Your mistake burned half my face.”
“I know.”
“Do you?”
Her voice rose.
“Do you wake up unable to breathe because your own skin feels hot? Do you spend forty minutes buttoning a shirt because your hand won’t close? Do you wonder whether the person lying next to you is disgusted every time he looks at you?”
Thomas covered his mouth.
“No.”
“Then don’t tell me you know.”
Silence.
Dante’s gaze remained on Thomas.
Maren sat.
“Tell me everything.”
Thomas did.
Ryan was Thomas’s protégé.
Smart.
Ambitious.
Greedy.
Victor eventually recruited him.
Evan became useful because he was close to Maren.
“At first, Evan only agreed to pressure you into selling.”
Maren felt sick.
“How long?”
“Two years.”
Her relationship had lasted three.
She looked away.
“Was any of it real?”
Thomas answered carefully.
“I think he fell in love with you.”
“That doesn’t help.”
“I know.”
“Stop saying that.”
Thomas nodded.
“Victor ordered the fire when you kept refusing to sell. Ryan arranged it. Evan was supposed to get you out first.”
“But he didn’t.”
“No.”
“And then I went back for him.”
Thomas looked broken.
“Yes.”
Maren’s hand shook.
Dante leaned forward.
“Where is Victor?”
“I don’t know.”
“You said he was watching you.”
“He contacts me through intermediaries.”
“Why?”
“Because he needs one final document.”
Maren frowned.
“What document?”
Thomas looked at her.
“Your grandmother placed a covenant on Piermont before she died.”
“What kind?”
“It prevents redevelopment unless every adjacent tenant voluntarily agrees.”
Maren blinked.
“The businesses.”
“Yes.”
“That’s why Ryan needed me desperate.”
“Yes.”
“And Victor?”
“He has been buying those businesses through shell companies.”
Dante asked, “How many remain independent?”
Thomas looked at Maren.
“One.”
“Which?”
“The bicycle nonprofit.”
Maren knew it.
Second Chance Cycles.
Run by a retired teacher named Amos Reed.
Thomas continued.
“If Amos signs, Victor can challenge your covenant.”
Maren stood.
“We call him.”
Dante already had his phone out.
No answer.
Again.
Nothing.
Luca checked an address.
“I’ll send someone.”
Dante’s phone buzzed.
A message.
He read it.
His face changed.
Maren’s stomach dropped.
“What?”
He showed her.
A photograph.
Amos Reed tied to a chair.
Behind him stood a familiar warehouse wall.
Warehouse 86.
A second image followed.
Ryan Keller.
Alive.
Bruised.
Also tied up.
Then a message.
MIDNIGHT.
BRING THE ORIGINAL COVENANT.
NO POLICE.
Maren looked at Thomas.
“Where is the original?”
Thomas closed his eyes.
“Your grandmother gave it to me.”
“You have it?”
“Yes.”
“Where?”
He reached inside his coat.
Dante’s men immediately moved.
Thomas slowly removed a flat leather envelope.
“I’ve carried it for fourteen years.”
Maren stared.
“You could have stopped all of this.”
Thomas’s eyes filled.
“Yes.”
She wanted to hit him.
Instead, she took the envelope.
Inside was the covenant.
Evelyn Vale’s signature.
Notarized.
Real.
Maren looked at Dante.
“I’m going.”
“No.”
“Not this again.”
“This time it isn’t Ryan.”
“I know.”
“Victor Hale has killed people for less.”
Maren folded the document carefully.
“And he spent five months believing fire could scare me.”
Dante stared at her.
Maren met his eyes.
“He was wrong.”
At 11:48 p.m., three vehicles stopped two blocks from Warehouse 86.
Dante checked his weapon.
Luca wore body armor.
Thomas sat silent.
Maren held her grandmother’s covenant.
Detective Ortiz was not there.
For once, Maren had agreed not to call her.
Or so Dante believed.
Maren had sent Ortiz one message from the car.
Piermont. Midnight. Victor Hale.
No reply came.
Maren approached the warehouse entrance.
The door stood open.
Inside, Amos and Ryan were tied to chairs.
Victor Hale stood between them.
Silver-haired.
Elegant.
Smiling.
“You look like your grandmother,” he said.
Maren held up the envelope.
“You wanted this.”
Victor smiled wider.
“Yes.”
Behind Maren, a steel door slammed shut.
Locks clicked.
Victor raised a gun.
And then Maren heard Dante shout from outside.
“Maren!”
Victor looked toward the ceiling.
Red lights began flashing.
Maren smelled something familiar.
Gasoline.
Victor smiled.
May you like
“Your first fire didn’t finish the job.”
Then he dropped a burning match.
