Chapter Two #3
“What is that?”
“Don’t touch it.”
“I wasn’t going to.”
A small mark was stamped beneath the screen.
THE EXCHANGE — SECURITY.
Below it was an equipment number rather than a personal name.
She’d seen it too.
“That came off one of them?”
“Yes.”
“It’s from the casino.”
“Looks like it.”
I photographed the unit where it had fallen, then sealed it in a clear evidence sleeve from my kit.
Her face went even paler.
I stood.
“You said somebody was waiting at the elevator with a needle.”
“I saw a flash of it.”
“But they were here.”
“Because we changed routes.”
She could be right about the route.
Or she could’ve heard or seen something without realizing it—a shadow beneath a door, a sound from the elevator, pieces adrenaline had put together faster than conscious thought.
I’d seen people survive on instincts they couldn’t explain.
I’d never needed ghosts to account for it.
Stella folded her arms.
“You still think I guessed.”
“I think you told me not to use the elevator, and listening to you put these two in a worse position.”
“That isn’t what I asked.”
“It’s what I know.”
Her mouth tightened.
Her eyes dropped to the syringe again.
She swallowed and pressed the heel of her hand to her temple, her face losing what little color it had left.
“We’re leaving now.”
“Through the stairwell they just used?”
“Not until I know it’s clear.”
“Good. I don’t want to walk into them again.”
I pulled out my phone and called Bancroft.
He answered immediately.
“We had an attempted grab at the residence. Two attackers retreated. No serious injuries.”
“What did they leave?”
“They left capture gear and something I want secured. I’ll send details once she’s moving.”
“Have you called the police?”
“Have Locke’s legal people coordinate it. I don’t want Stella standing in this hallway when they come back.”
“That’s the right call.”
I ended the call.
Stella turned to me.
“You called your boss before the police.”
“I called the man who can get the right people here without keeping you exposed.”
“And now?”
I slipped the sealed unit into my kit.
I picked up her bag.
“Now I get you out.”
Before we left, I explained why an active phone could become a location leak.
Stella’s mouth flattened, but I didn’t take the phone from her.
She shut it off herself and slipped it into her bag.
We took the service stair down and left through the rear service exit after the concierge confirmed the loading area was clear. My vehicle was still two blocks away instead of in her garage.
The mist had turned to light rain.
Stella kept close without clinging to me.
I kept scanning the street.
By the time I pulled into the Mill District, daylight had flattened the sky to dull gray.
Old red-brick factories lined the streets, some converted into studios and lofts, others still wearing faded painted signs from businesses dead longer than either of us had been alive. Steel frames cut across rooftops. A water tower rose above the blocks near the river.
My safe house occupied part of a converted industrial building that looked less interesting from the street than it actually was.
Looking forgettable from the street was the point.
Inside, the heavy door locked behind us with a sound that made Stella turn.
“It locks from this side too,” I said.
“I was checking.”
“I know.”
The main living space was simple: exposed brick, metal, charcoal furniture, and a small kitchen. Nothing decorative unless somebody considered reinforced doors attractive.
Stella slowly turned in place.
“This is where you live?”
“No.”
“You just happen to own a fortified warehouse apartment?”
“Something like that.”
“That sounds normal.”
“I’ve never claimed to be normal.”
She faced me again.
For the first time since the hallway, some color returned to her face.
I pointed toward the corridor.
“Your room is the second door. It locks from inside. Bathroom is across from it.”
“You’re not keeping the key?”
“I don’t have one for the interior lock.”
“Seriously?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because if I put somebody somewhere for protection and tell her it’s her room, she should be able to keep me out of it.”
She went still for a second.
“Thank you.”
“You don’t have to thank me for a door.”
“I wasn’t thanking you for the door.”
I let that sit.
“Put your bag down. Then you need water and food.”
“You’re back to ordering me around.”
“You got pale enough in that hallway that I considered carrying you.”
Stella’s eyebrows rose.
“I would’ve objected.”
“I assumed.”
“You’re six-four and built like a moving wall. I’m not saying you couldn’t have done it.”
A quiet laugh slipped out before I could stop it.
Stella blinked at me.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
“That face says something.”
“You were funnier when you were accusing me of imprisoning you.”
“I wasn’t accusing you. I was gathering information.”
I raised an eyebrow.
She smiled.
“See? I can do your job too.”
“You’re terrible at my job.”
“You’ve known me three hours.”
“Exactly.”
She shook her head and carried her bag down the hall.
I went into the kitchen.
The safe house stayed stocked because empty refrigerators were useless during emergencies. I heated soup, added bread and sliced turkey to the table, then poured two glasses of water.
Stella returned without her jacket.
Without her jacket, the charcoal shirt showed the line of her waist.
Stella sat.
“I’m not really hungry.”
“Eat what you can.”
She picked up the spoon.
I took the chair across from her rather than beside her.
For several minutes the room stayed quiet except for the old building’s pipes and the faint hum of the heating system.
Stella managed half the soup and a piece of bread.
It was better than nothing.
The safe house stayed quiet through the afternoon. By early evening, I set the sealed communications unit on the far end of the table.
Stella glanced toward it.
“You brought that with us.”
“I photographed where it fell first. Bancroft will arrange the handoff.”
“Can you tell who it belonged to?”
“I can’t tell from this.”
I turned the sleeve enough for her to see the equipment number.
“It’s marked as Exchange security equipment, but there’s no individual name. It looks like pool-issued gear.”
“So you think it was Volkov?”
“He’s one possibility.”
Her eyes narrowed.
“You don’t think the chief of security having access to security equipment is suspicious?”
“I think it makes him one of several people with access.”
“He called me offering to save me from a murder charge, and then men carrying his company’s equipment tried to drug me.”
“Bellacorte owned the casino. Volkov runs security. That makes Volkov worth looking at.”
“But you’re not convinced.”
“I don’t accuse people of murder because I don’t like their timing.”
Stella sat back.
“Very evidence-based of you.”
“That’s the job.”
“You’re going to hate tarot.”
“I already have concerns.”
She laughed softly.
It disappeared quickly.
Her eyes drifted toward the evidence sleeve again.
“What would they have done if they’d gotten me?”
I waited before answering.
I didn’t know, and she didn’t need me filling the gap with guesses.
“They came prepared to restrain you and sedate you.”
“I noticed.”
“That tells me what they intended to do first. Nothing beyond that.”
She looked down at her water.
“Take me.”
“What do you mean?”
Her eyes closed for a second.
“I don’t mean you. I mean them.”
I understood.
“They wanted to take me somewhere.”
“That’s what it looks like.”
Stella wrapped both hands around her water glass until her knuckles went pale.
I remembered the way she’d said no current threats earlier.
I wanted to ask, but I didn’t.
Instead I pointed toward the hallway.
“You can lock your room. Nobody comes through the exterior doors without me knowing. If you want to shower, sleep, pace for an hour, or sit with the lights on, do it. You don’t need permission.”
She raised her eyes to mine.
“And if I want to leave?”
“Tell me first so I can explain why I think it’s a terrible idea.”
“That isn’t the same as stopping me.”
“No.”
Stella was quiet for a moment.
“Okay.”
I picked up my water.
The men had come with restraints and a loaded syringe.
They’d come prepared to take Stella alive.
Across the table, THE EXCHANGE — SECURITY was stamped on the device they’d dropped.
It didn’t identify who had sent them.
The first hard clue to the grab carried the mark of Bellacorte’s own security operation.