Chapter 4 - The Night Sadie Disappeared
Declan tore the photograph in half.
Sadie stared at him.
“What are you doing?”
“Removing the illusion that they control the situation.”
“My mother is in that photograph.”
“And she is being moved now.”
Declan turned to Malcolm.
“New location. No electronic communication. Double escort.”
Malcolm nodded.
Sadie caught his sleeve.
“What if they're already watching her?”
“They are.”
“So moving her could—”
“Sadie.”
Declan looked down at her hand.
She released him.
His voice softened slightly.
“I won't let them touch her.”
She stared at him.
“How can you promise that?”
“Because promises are the only things I don't gamble with.”
For a second, neither moved.
Then Eamon cleared his throat.
“We need to talk about Pier Seventeen.”
Declan turned away.
The plan formed quickly.
Vale expected Sadie alone.
He would get Sadie.
But not alone.
At least, that was Declan's plan.
Sadie had another.
By noon, Declan relocated her to a fortified townhouse in Brooklyn.
Malcolm remained with her.
Two guards stayed outside.
Cameras covered every entrance.
Declan left only after she promised she wouldn't leave.
Sadie waited twenty minutes.
Then she opened the bathroom window.
Malcolm caught her halfway onto the fire escape.
“Absolutely not.”
Sadie froze.
He crossed his arms.
“You think I haven't guarded people before?”
“I need to go.”
“No.”
“My mother could die.”
“Declan has people protecting her.”
“And if one of those people is the traitor?”
That silenced him.
Sadie climbed back inside.
“You said yourself someone in the inner circle is compromised.”
Malcolm's expression tightened.
“So what are you suggesting?”
“We don't know who.”
“That includes me.”
Sadie looked at him.
“Yes.”
He almost smiled.
“Smart.”
“I've spent three years scheduling meetings for criminals and executives. They're basically the same people with different tailoring.”
That actually made him laugh.
Then he became serious.
“You can't go to the pier.”
“Why?”
“Because Declan would kill me.”
“Only if I'm hurt.”
“That's not comforting.”
Sadie sat on the edge of the bathtub.
“I need to understand something.”
“What?”
“Why does he care?”
Malcolm leaned against the doorframe.
“About you?”
“Yes.”
He studied her.
“You really don't know?”
Sadie's face warmed.
“Know what?”
“Nothing.”
“Malcolm.”
“I enjoy being alive.”
“Tell me.”
He sighed.
“Three years ago, before you started, Declan fired six assistants in eight months.”
“Why?”
“One leaked schedules. One stole. Two couldn't handle the pressure. One kept flirting with him.”
“And the sixth?”
“Declan hated the way he organized files.”
Sadie blinked.
“That sounds like him.”
“Then you came along.”
“And?”
“And he stopped firing assistants.”
“That means I'm good at my job.”
“Sure.”
“What else?”
Malcolm hesitated.
“He stopped taking breakfast meetings.”
Sadie frowned.
“So?”
“Because you leave coffee on his desk at eight.”
Her expression changed.
Malcolm continued.
“He moved half his travel schedule because you hate flying.”
“I don't hate flying.”
“You once told him turbulence makes you nauseous.”
Sadie stared.
“And when your father died two years ago, Declan canceled a meeting with three men who flew in from London.”
Sadie's throat tightened.
“He said the meeting was postponed.”
“It was. Because you were at the funeral.”
“He wasn't.”
Malcolm looked at her.
“Yes, he was.”
Sadie went still.
“What?”
“Back row. Stayed ten minutes.”
She remembered a dark figure standing near the cemetery gate.
She had never seen the face.
“He never told me.”
“That's Declan.”
A strange ache formed beneath Sadie's ribs.
Then Malcolm's phone buzzed.
He checked the message.
His expression changed.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
“What is it?”
“Stay here.”
He left.
Sadie waited.
One minute.
Two.
Then she heard shouting downstairs.
A crash.
Her body moved before her mind did.
She locked the bathroom door.
Opened the window.
And climbed.
By the time Malcolm returned, the room was empty.
Sadie took a taxi three blocks.
Then a bus.
Then another taxi.
At 8:42 p.m., she reached Pier Seventeen.
Rain had returned.
The waterfront smelled of salt, fuel, and rust.
Shipping cranes rose against the skyline like enormous skeletal birds.
Sadie stepped between rows of containers.
“Hello?”
Nothing.
She clutched her coat tighter.
A voice came from behind her.
“You actually came.”
Sadie turned.
Marcus Vale stepped from the shadows.
He was younger than she expected.
Forties.
Clean-shaven.
Gray overcoat.
The kind of man who could have passed for an investment banker until you looked into his eyes.
“You have my mother?”
Vale smiled.
“No.”
Sadie's heart pounded.
“Then why—”
“Because fear is cheaper than kidnapping.”
Her hands curled.
“You threatened her.”
“Yes.”
“Why me?”
Vale moved closer.
“Because Declan Hayes has one weakness.”
“I don't know where the ledger is.”
“I didn't ask about the ledger.”
Sadie froze.
Vale smiled.
“You.”
She stared.
“You're insane.”
“Am I?”
He circled her slowly.
“Declan built his reputation by caring about nothing. Not money. Not pain. Not loyalty. Men like that are difficult to control.”
His smile faded.
“Then you arrived.”
“I work for him.”
Vale laughed softly.
“Poor girl.”
Sadie stepped back.
“Where is Greg?”
“Dead.”
“I know.”
Vale's expression sharpened.
“Do you?”
“I was there.”
His eyes dropped toward her bandaged arm.
“Ah.”
Sadie forced herself not to look away.
“He attacked me.”
“He was nervous.”
“He tried to kill me.”
“Greg was never good under pressure.”
Vale's indifference made her stomach turn.
“You sent him.”
“I recruited him.”
“To steal Declan's files?”
“To locate something.”
“The Black Ledger.”
Vale's smile returned.
“So Eamon finally told him.”
Sadie's heart skipped.
“You know Eamon?”
“Of course.”
“Is he working for you?”
Vale tilted his head.
“Ask a better question.”
Sadie thought.
“Who is working for you inside Declan's circle?”
Vale's eyes gleamed.
“That is better.”
Footsteps sounded behind her.
Sadie turned.
Leo Bianchi emerged between two containers.
Declan's port logistics chief.
Her blood turned cold.
Vale smiled.
“Hello, Leo.”
Sadie backed away.
Leo wouldn't meet her eyes.
“You.”
He looked ashamed.
“I'm sorry.”
Vale sighed.
“Don't apologize. It cheapens betrayal.”
Sadie stared at Leo.
“Greg wasn't the mole.”
“Greg was a courier,” Vale said. “Leo gave him access.”
“Why?”
Leo's jaw tightened.
“My brother owes people money.”
Vale laughed.
“Everyone has a reason.”
Sadie looked toward the pier.
“What happens now?”
Vale's gaze moved past her.
“Now we wait.”
“For Declan?”
“For exactly one minute.”
Sadie's pulse hammered.
“What happens in one minute?”
Vale checked his watch.
“The Rotterdam shipment arrives.”
Sadie understood.
“You're going to steal it.”
“No.”
Vale smiled.
“Declan is.”
A distant engine roared.
Lights appeared beyond the dock.
Then Sadie saw movement on the far side of the pier.
Men.
Dozens.
Some wearing uniforms.
Customs.
Police.
Federal agents.
Vale stepped closer.
“Every camera will show Declan's organization opening the container.”
Sadie's stomach dropped.
“And the missing cargo?”
“Already gone.”
“You're framing him.”
“I'm ending him.”
Suddenly a voice cut through the darkness.
“No.”
Sadie turned.
Declan stood at the end of the pier.
Alone.
Rain ran from his black coat.
His face was calm.
Too calm.
Vale smiled.
“You came.”
Declan's eyes went to Sadie.
“You disobeyed me.”
She almost laughed from relief.
“Fire me.”
“Later.”
Vale applauded slowly.
“Touching.”
Declan's gaze moved to Leo.
The disappointment in his face was worse than anger.
Leo looked away.
Vale stepped toward Declan.
“You've lost, Hayes.”
Declan looked around.
“Have I?”
Vale's smile faltered.
Declan took out his phone.
Pressed one button.
Every floodlight on Pier Seventeen came on.
The entire dock lit white.
Containers.
Vehicles.
Men.
Cameras.
And above them, mounted beneath the warehouse roof, dozens of newly installed security lenses.
Declan looked at Vale.
“You should have checked who owned the surveillance contract.”
Vale's face hardened.
Then Declan said the words Sadie would remember for the rest of her life.
“You didn't bring witnesses to my crime.”
He smiled.
“I brought witnesses to yours.”
And somewhere behind them, a container door slowly opened.
Inside was not cargo.
It was Eamon Pierce.
May you like
Holding the Black Ledger.
---
