Chapter 2 - The Man Behind the Kitchen Door
The handle moved again.
Mara raised the pistol.
Gabriel pushed himself upright against the counter, his breathing shallow.
Roman and the two captured gunmen stared toward the hallway.
No one spoke.
The kitchen door was supposed to be locked.
Mara knew because she had locked it herself at midnight.
The handle turned a third time.
Then stopped.
Gabriel whispered, "How many employees are here?"
"Just me."
"Cook?"
"Went home at two."
"Manager?"
"Never works nights."
Gabriel's eyes stayed on the door.
"Back entrance?"
"Dead bolt."
"From inside?"
Mara nodded.
Roman suddenly began laughing again.
Gabriel swung the pistol toward him.
"You know who's back there."
Roman's laugh died.
"Maybe."
"Name."
"Go look."
Gabriel's expression hardened.
Mara grabbed his wrist before he could move.
"You're barely conscious."
"I've been worse."
"You've been shot."
"Twice."
"That's not the reassuring correction you think it is."
The sirens were closer now.
Mara expected relief.
Gabriel didn't.
His entire body seemed to tense at the sound.
"Those aren't police," he said.
Mara listened.
"They're sirens."
"Exactly."
Roman smiled again.
Gabriel looked toward the front windows.
"We have maybe ninety seconds."
"For what?"
"To decide whether we want to be here when they arrive."
Mara stared at him.
"You expect me to run with a mafia boss?"
"I expect you to survive."
"I was doing fine before you walked in."
Roman muttered, "No, you weren't."
Mara turned on him.
"What does that mean?"
He looked toward the kitchen door.
"Ask your father."
Something struck the other side of the door.
Mara jumped.
Gabriel moved despite his wound, placing himself between her and the hallway.
The gesture surprised her.
"You don't get to protect me now," she said.
"Apparently you prefer doing that yourself."
The sirens grew louder.
Gabriel pointed toward a small office behind the counter.
"Security cameras?"
"Recorder's inside."
"Can you access them?"
"Yes."
They moved quickly.
Mara locked Roman and his two men inside the walk-in storage room after stripping them of their weapons.
Roman didn't resist.
That bothered her.
He almost seemed pleased.
Inside the cramped office, Mara pulled up the security system.
Eight camera feeds appeared.
Dining room.
Parking lot.
Kitchen.
Rear alley.
Office hallway.
Gabriel leaned close.
"Kitchen."
Mara enlarged the feed.
Empty.
Stainless-steel prep tables.
Coffee machine.
Storage shelves.
No person.
"Back door."
She selected another camera.
The rear door stood open.
Mara's stomach dropped.
"I locked that."
Gabriel pointed.
"Someone disabled the alarm."
A black device had been taped over the sensor.
Professional.
Mara changed cameras.
Nothing.
Then movement flickered at the bottom of the hallway feed.
A shadow.
Mara froze the image.
Gabriel stared.
"Go back three seconds."
She did.
A man crossed the hallway.
Only part of his face was visible.
Older.
Gray hair.
Dark jacket.
Mara felt the air leave her lungs.
"No."
Gabriel looked at her.
"You know him?"
She leaned closer to the monitor.
The man's face appeared for less than half a second.
But she knew it.
She had seen it in photographs for years.
At birthdays.
At Christmas.
Beside her father.
"That's Dennis Hale."
"Who?"
"My father's business partner."
Gabriel's face changed.
"Robert Bell Security."
Mara turned sharply.
"You know the company."
Gabriel didn't answer.
The sirens abruptly stopped.
Outside.
Too close.
Gabriel went to the window.
Two black SUVs had pulled behind the diner.
Both carried flashing emergency lights.
No police markings.
Men in tactical uniforms stepped out.
Mara stared.
"They look like cops."
"They aren't."
"Who are they?"
Gabriel checked the pistol magazine.
"People who want Roman dead."
"Why?"
"And probably me."
"That part I guessed."
He looked at her.
"And possibly you."
Mara swallowed.
The kitchen door suddenly opened.
Dennis Hale stepped into the dining room.
He was sixty-five now, heavier than in the photographs, but unmistakable.
He held no visible weapon.
"Mara."
She raised Gabriel's pistol.
Dennis stopped.
His face filled with something that looked almost paternal.
"My God. You look like Robert when you're angry."
"Don't say his name."
"I knew you'd say that."
Gabriel moved beside her.
Dennis's expression changed when he saw him.
"Gabriel Vale."
"Dennis."
"You survived."
"Disappointing?"
Dennis gave no answer.
Mara looked between them.
"You two know each other."
Gabriel said nothing.
Dennis sighed.
"He knows everyone who mattered in your father's death."
Mara's arms trembled.
Not from fear.
"Was Gabriel responsible?"
Dennis looked at Gabriel.
"Ask him."
Mara turned the gun slightly.
"Gabriel?"
He met her eyes.
"No."
"Roman said—"
"Roman wanted you to shoot me."
"Did you know my father?"
Gabriel hesitated.
"Yes."
Her chest tightened.
"How?"
"He saved my life."
Mara blinked.
Dennis looked suddenly angry.
Gabriel continued.
"Fifteen years ago, your father discovered money moving through Robert Bell Security. Illegal shipments were being disguised as armored transport contracts."
Mara looked at Dennis.
Dennis's jaw tightened.
"Keep talking," she said.
Gabriel did.
"Your father copied records. Names. Routes. Payments. He intended to take them to federal investigators."
"And then he died."
"Yes."
"Who killed him?"
Gabriel looked toward Dennis.
Mara's pistol followed.
Dennis slowly lifted his hands.
"Gabriel is telling you half the truth."
"Then give me the other half."
"Your father wasn't just investigating organized crime."
"What else?"
"He found corruption inside law enforcement. Judges. Customs officials. Politicians."
The men outside began surrounding the diner.
Dennis nodded toward them.
"Those are part of it."
Mara looked through the shattered window.
One tactical man raised a rifle.
Dennis stepped back.
"Down!"
The windows erupted.
Mara hit the floor.
Gabriel pulled her behind the counter.
Bullets tore through chrome and vinyl.
Dennis dove toward the kitchen.
Roman began shouting from the storage room.
"They're here!"
Gabriel crawled toward the office.
Mara grabbed him.
"You're bleeding worse."
"Later."
"There won't be a later if you die."
A bullet punched through the coffee machine above them.
Gabriel flinched as hot liquid sprayed down.
Mara spotted a maintenance hatch behind the counter.
"The basement."
Gabriel looked at her.
"This place has a basement?"
"Old storage tunnel. Building used to share deliveries with the pharmacy next door."
"Where does it exit?"
"Alley two buildings over."
Dennis shouted from the kitchen.
"Move!"
Mara hated trusting him.
She hated trusting Gabriel too.
But bullets made excellent arguments.
She opened the hatch.
Gabriel lowered himself first and nearly collapsed.
Mara followed.
Dennis climbed down after them.
Before closing the hatch, Mara heard the diner doors burst open.
Voices.
Professional.
Fast.
"Clear left!"
"Find Vale!"
"Find the Bell woman!"
Mara slammed the hatch.
Darkness swallowed them.
Dennis switched on a small flashlight.
The basement smelled of dust and rust.
Gabriel leaned against the wall.
Mara pressed her apron against his wound again.
"You're going to tell me everything."
"If we survive."
"No. Now."
Dennis whispered, "Not here."
Mara turned the pistol toward him.
"You don't get to decide."
Dennis looked tired.
"Your father hid something beneath this diner."
Silence.
Mara slowly lowered the gun.
"What?"
"The evidence Gabriel mentioned."
"You said he planned to give it to federal agents."
"He did."
"Then why would it be here?"
"Because he learned the agents assigned to collect it were compromised."
Gabriel stared at Dennis.
"You knew where Robert hid the archive?"
Dennis nodded.
"Not exactly."
Mara frowned.
"What does that mean?"
"He left a clue."
Dennis walked toward an old section of brick wall.
Mara's father had helped renovate the diner when she was a child.
She remembered him spending weekends downstairs.
She remembered asking why.
He had told her he was fixing pipes.
Dennis touched a loose brick.
Behind it was a narrow metal box.
Mara stopped breathing.
Dennis pulled it free.
There was a combination lock.
Three letters had been scratched into the metal.
R.B.S.
Gabriel looked at the pistol in Mara's hand.
Same letters.
Dennis whispered, "Your father prepared two keys."
"That's not a key."
"The numbers are inside the pistol grip."
Mara stared at Gabriel.
Gabriel removed the magazine, checked the chamber, then handed her the weapon.
"Your father gave this gun to my family twelve years ago."
"Why?"
"As insurance."
Mara removed the grip panel using a coin from her apron pocket.
Four numbers had been etched inside.
Her father's birthday.
She entered them.
Click.
The box opened.
Inside were paper files.
A small flash drive.
And an old photograph.
Mara lifted it.
Her father stood beside a much younger Gabriel.
Dennis was there too.
And a fourth man.
Mara recognized him.
Everyone in the city would.
Police Commissioner Arthur Voss.
Mara looked up.
The gunfire above suddenly stopped.
Complete silence.
Gabriel's face darkened.
"That isn't good."
Then footsteps sounded above the basement hatch.
One pair.
Slow.
Deliberate.
A man's voice called down.
"Mara Bell."
She knew the voice.
She had heard it on television for years.
May you like
Police Commissioner Arthur Voss had found them.
And he was unlocking the hatch.
