Chapter 3 - Locker Seventeen
Damian dragged Tessa behind the concrete barrier as the black box exploded.
The blast was small.
Controlled.
Designed less to kill than to create chaos.
Smoke filled the alley.
Car alarms screamed.
People shouted inside the restaurant.
Rafe and the other security men moved with frightening efficiency.
One pursued the shooter.
Another pulled a vehicle around.
Damian kept himself between Tessa and the alley entrance.
“Are you hurt?”
“No.”
“Check.”
“I said no.”
“Adrenaline lies.”
She looked down.
Hands.
Legs.
No blood.
Marco crawled from behind the SUV.
A cut crossed his cheek.
“You still think I’m working for him?”
Damian pointed the gun toward him.
“I haven’t decided.”
Tessa slapped Damian’s wrist downward.
“Stop.”
His eyes flashed.
“He knows Mercer.”
“He also warned us.”
“He could have planted the device.”
“If he wanted me dead, why warn me?”
Damian stared at Marco.
“Because Mercer doesn’t want her dead,” Marco said.
That silenced them.
Tessa swallowed.
“Then what does he want?”
“The ledger.”
“Why now?”
“Because somebody told him the spoon surfaced.”
“Who?”
Marco looked toward Vesper.
“Pick a person in there.”
Tessa thought of Laurent.
The cooks.
Managers.
Employees.
Anybody could have seen Damian holding the spoon.
Anybody could have messaged someone.
“What happens if Mercer gets the ledger?”
Marco wiped blood from his cheek.
“He burns the last evidence connecting him to twenty years of crimes.”
“And if we get it?”
“My grandfather goes to prison.”
“You say that like you want it.”
Marco laughed bitterly.
“You didn’t grow up with Elias Mercer.”
Neither Damian nor Tessa spoke.
Marco’s expression changed.
“My father did.”
Tessa remembered the photograph.
“Anthony.”
“He spent his entire life trying not to become Elias.”
“Is he alive?”
“No.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be.”
The answer was sharp.
Marco looked away.
“He made mistakes too.”
Damian holstered the weapon as police sirens approached.
“We need to move.”
“To the terminal,” Tessa said.
“No.”
She glared.
“Again?”
“Mercer knows we know.”
“That means he’s going there.”
“Exactly.”
“So we get there first.”
Damian almost looked impressed.
“You argue like Moses.”
“So everyone keeps telling me.”
Marco joined them.
“I know another entrance.”
Damian frowned.
“Why?”
“My grandfather used the terminal for meetings.”
Tessa looked at him.
“How long have you been working at Vesper?”
“Five years.”
“Why?”
Marco hesitated.
“To watch you.”
The words hit harder than the explosion.
“What?”
Marco immediately shook his head.
“Not the way it sounds.”
“It sounds like you took a job at my restaurant to watch me.”
“I didn’t know you’d work there.”
“You just said—”
“I took the job because Laurent had bought property connected to Rowe’s House. Then you got hired. I recognized your name.”
“And you spent nineteen months mocking me?”
Marco looked ashamed.
“That part was real.”
Tessa nearly hit him.
“You don’t get points for honesty.”
“I know.”
“Why?”
“Because I’m an insecure jackass.”
Damian almost smiled.
Marco continued.
“And because if I treated you like you mattered, people would have asked why.”
Tessa stared at him.
“You could have tried treating me like a human being.”
Marco said nothing.
That answer was enough.
They reached the abandoned Fulton terminal twenty-five minutes later.
The city had shut it down years ago.
Most entrances were chained.
Marco led them through an underground service door hidden behind temporary fencing.
Damian brought four men.
Tessa hated that part of her was grateful.
The terminal smelled of rust, dust, and old rain.
Their flashlights swept cracked tile.
Broken signs.
A row of metal lockers survived against the far wall.
Numbers faded.
Tessa stopped.
“There.”
Locker seventeen was smaller than she imagined.
Damian checked the corridor.
Marco knelt.
“No visible wire.”
“That comforting?” Tessa asked.
“Not really.”
She inserted the spoon’s handle into a narrow slot beside the lock.
Nothing happened.
Then Marco noticed the burn mark.
“Turn it.”
Tessa rotated the spoon.
Click.
The locker opened.
Inside sat a metal cashbox.
No explosion.
No alarm.
Just a box.
Tessa lifted it.
Heavy.
Damian scanned the terminal.
“Hurry.”
She opened the lid.
Inside were photographs.
Receipts.
Cassette tapes.
A leather notebook.
And a sealed envelope.
Tessa picked up the envelope.
Her name was written across it.
TESSA.
Her throat tightened.
“That’s Grandpa’s handwriting.”
She knew it instantly.
Moses had written every birthday card in thick block letters.
Tessa opened it.
The paper inside had yellowed.
Tessie,
If you are reading this, then I failed to keep you far away from the mistakes grown men made before you were old enough to understand them.
Do not confuse power with goodness.
Do not confuse fear with respect.
And do not punish a son only because of the sins of his father.
Tessa stopped.
Her eyes moved toward Damian.
He stared at the letter.
She continued.
There is a boy named Damian.
He will grow up surrounded by men telling him that cruelty is strength.
If I did anything right, maybe he will remember one old cook telling him otherwise.
Damian looked away.
Marco swallowed.
Tessa read the final lines.
The ledger contains proof against Elias Mercer.
It also contains proof against Victor Voss.
Truth does not choose sides.
If you open it, be ready to lose whatever comfortable lies you still have.
Love,
Grandpa.
Tessa closed her eyes.
The terminal felt silent enough to hear memories.
Damian reached for the ledger.
Tessa pulled it away.
“That’s mine.”
“It involves my family.”
“My grandfather left it to me.”
“And people are trying to kill you for it.”
“That doesn’t make it yours.”
Damian’s jaw tightened.
Marco stepped between them verbally.
“She’s right.”
Damian glanced at him.
“You’re becoming irritating.”
“I’ve been told.”
Tessa opened the leather cover.
Pages of dates.
Payments.
Initials.
Names.
Judges.
Police captains.
Union officials.
Construction companies.
She recognized almost none.
Then she saw Victor Voss.
Again.
Again.
Again.
Her stomach sank.
Damian watched her face.
“What?”
She handed him the ledger.
He read.
His expression hardened.
“My father paid Mercer?”
Marco leaned closer.
“That doesn’t make sense.”
Damian turned pages.
The entries showed transfers from Voss-controlled businesses to Mercer for nearly two years.
Hundreds of thousands.
Then abruptly they stopped.
The final entry beside Victor’s name had one handwritten note.
REFUSED. BOY RELEASED BY ROWE. V.V. WANTS OUT.
Damian’s face changed.
“He did try.”
Tessa read over his shoulder.
Maybe Victor had refused the ransom initially.
Maybe later he had decided to stop whatever arrangement he had with Mercer.
The comfortable lie had cracked.
Not shattered.
Victor Voss had still been dangerous.
Still responsible for crimes.
But perhaps not the monster Damian had needed him to be.
Marco flipped toward the back.
“Here.”
A page listed Anthony Mercer.
His father.
Several payments.
Then the words:
A.M. INFORMANT.
Marco stopped breathing.
Tessa looked at him.
“Your father was helping Moses?”
Marco’s eyes filled.
“I didn’t know.”
“Maybe that’s why he died.”
Marco stared down.
“My father was killed in a car accident when I was twelve.”
Damian looked at him.
“You believe that?”
“Not anymore.”
A metallic bang echoed across the terminal.
Everyone froze.
Rafe lifted his weapon.
Another sound.
Footsteps.
Many.
Damian closed the ledger.
“Lights off.”
Darkness swallowed them.
Tessa heard men entering the terminal.
Then a voice.
Older.
Calm.
Almost amused.
“Damian.”
Damian went rigid.
The voice continued.
“You’ve grown into your father’s face.”
Marco whispered, “Elias.”
Tessa’s pulse roared.
Damian signaled his men.
They spread out.
Elias Mercer’s footsteps approached.
“I don’t want the girl,” he called.
Tessa tightened her grip on the cashbox.
“I want what Moses stole.”
She surprised herself by answering.
“He didn’t steal anything.”
Silence.
Then Elias laughed.
“You must be Tessa.”
Damian grabbed her arm.
She pulled free.
Elias continued.
“Your grandfather talked like that too.”
Tessa’s anger outweighed fear.
“You killed him.”
A pause.
Long.
Then:
“No.”
Tessa froze.
“You’re lying.”
“I did many things to Moses Rowe.”
His voice came closer.
“Killing him wasn’t one of them.”
Damian looked toward Tessa.
Marco shook his head.
Elias called again.
“Read the last page, girl.”
Tessa’s eyes dropped to the ledger.
She turned toward the end.
One page remained stuck to the back cover.
She peeled it free.
There was a single name written across the top.
LAURENT DELACROIX.
Tessa stared.
Impossible.
Laurent would have been barely twenty then.
Beneath his name was a payment.
Then another.
Then one dated the day Moses died.
The description beside it contained three words.
DELIVERED THE MEDICINE.
Tessa stopped breathing.
Behind them, a flashlight clicked on.
Laurent Delacroix stood ten feet away.
May you like
He was holding a gun.
And he said, “You should have stayed a waitress.”
