Chapter 2 - The Secret Inside the Rabbit
Adrian Vale did not look surprised to see Sophia.
That frightened her more than surprise would have.
He was in his mid-forties, silver beginning at his temples, his tuxedo immaculate despite the late hour. Sophia had noticed him earlier among the dinner guests.
Dominic stepped between them.
“You know Mrs. Bennett?”
Adrian smiled.
“No.”
Emma whispered, “Yes, he does.”
The smile vanished.
Dominic looked down at her.
Emma pressed her face into Sophia’s shoulder.
“He came to our old house.”
Adrian gave a soft laugh.
“She’s three.”
“She also just ended my engagement,” Dominic said. “I’m learning not to underestimate her.”
Sophia stood.
“I heard his voice.”
“When?” Dominic asked.
“The night James died.”
Adrian’s eyes moved toward her.
“That is a serious accusation.”
“I didn’t accuse you of anything.”
“You implied it.”
“No. You did.”
Dominic looked at Adrian.
For several seconds, neither man spoke.
Then Dominic held up the brass key.
Adrian’s face remained controlled.
Almost.
His right thumb moved across his index finger.
A nervous habit.
Dominic saw it.
“What does this open?”
“I have no idea.”
“You were CFO when Atlantic Meridian collapsed.”
“I managed financial exposure across forty-seven companies.”
“And James Bennett?”
“Never heard the name.”
Sophia said, “You’re lying.”
Adrian turned toward her.
“You should be careful.”
Dominic moved one step.
Adrian corrected himself.
“I mean memories can be unreliable after trauma.”
Emma suddenly wriggled down.
Before Sophia could stop her, she picked up Mr. Hops.
“There’s paper too.”
Sophia stared.
“What?”
Emma pushed two fingers into the torn seam.
A folded strip of paper emerged.
Dominic took it.
Four numbers were written across it.
Beneath them:
P17.
Adrian’s face drained.
Dominic saw that too.
“Still mean nothing?”
Adrian recovered.
“Yes.”
Dominic folded the paper.
“You can go.”
Sophia looked at him in disbelief.
Adrian seemed equally surprised.
“Dom—”
“I said go.”
Adrian left.
Dominic waited until the door closed.
Then he pressed a button beneath his desk.
“Marco.”
A guard answered through the intercom.
“Yes, sir?”
“Follow Adrian. He doesn’t see you. He doesn’t leave the property without me knowing where he goes first.”
Sophia stared.
“You think he killed James?”
“I think he recognized that paper.”
“What is P17?”
“Pier Seventeen.”
Her breath caught.
Dominic looked toward the key.
“And 1719 may be a locker.”
They reached the Hudson freight terminal shortly after midnight.
Dominic insisted Sophia and Emma remain in the armored SUV.
Sophia refused.
“My husband died over whatever is there.”
“That is precisely why you should stay in the car.”
“I spent two years being told his death was an accident. I’m not sitting in a parking lot now.”
Dominic studied her.
Then nodded once.
Pier Seventeen had officially closed six years earlier.
The warehouse was dark except for emergency lights.
Dominic’s men searched first.
Locker 1719 stood in a forgotten employee corridor.
The brass key fit.
Inside was a metal cash box.
No money.
No jewels.
Only a ledger.
And a photograph.
Sophia took the picture.
James stood beside three men.
One was Adrian.
One Sophia did not recognize.
The third was Dominic.
“You knew him.”
Dominic stared at the photograph.
“No.”
“You’re standing beside him.”
“That photograph was taken at a company Christmas reception. Hundreds attended.”
On the back, James had written:
D.M. DOESN’T KNOW.
A.V. DOES.
Sophia looked at Dominic.
“What didn’t you know?”
Before he could answer, the warehouse lights died.
A gunshot cracked through the darkness.
Dominic pulled Sophia down.
“Emma!”
Sophia screamed.
The child had been standing beside her.
Now she was gone.
Then a tiny voice came from inside the open locker.
“Mommy?”
Sophia grabbed her.
Dominic’s guards returned fire.
Footsteps thundered somewhere above.
Dominic shoved the ledger beneath his jacket.
“Move.”
They reached the SUV under gunfire.
Once the doors locked, Dominic looked at the ledger.
A bullet had torn through its cover.
But the pages remained intact.
Sophia opened it.
Every page contained dates, container numbers, payments, initials.
Then she reached the final page.
James had written one sentence.
If I’m dead, the traitor sits at Dominic Moretti’s table.
Beneath it was a name covered by a strip of black tape.
Dominic reached for the tape.
Before he could peel it away, his phone rang.
Marco.
Dominic answered.
“Where is Adrian?”
Silence.
Then Marco said, “That’s the problem, boss.”
Dominic’s eyes hardened.
“What problem?”
“He never tried to leave the estate.”
“Then where is he?”
Marco lowered his voice.
“He went upstairs.”
“To where?”
“The third floor.”
Dominic looked at Sophia.
May you like
Marco continued.
“He just unlocked the black door.”
