Chapter 8 - A House With No Locked Doors
By sunrise, Sadie had given her statement twice.
Carl was in custody.
Martin Pierce was not.
Ronan had vanished toward North Harbor.
Detective Vega drove Sadie to a secure apartment and remained outside until the lock clicked.
Sadie entered.
Then stopped.
For the first time since leaving Carl, she was alone because she wanted to be.
The silence felt different.
She placed the envelope containing her eighteen hundred dollars on the table.
Carl had returned every dollar.
Sadie looked at it.
Months earlier, that envelope had represented freedom.
Now it looked small.
Important, but small.
Money could buy distance.
It could not teach someone how to live after fear.
Her phone rang at 7:12.
Ronan.
Sadie answered immediately.
“Gabriel?”
A pause.
“Alive.”
She closed her eyes.
“Thank God.”
“Pierce escaped.”
“Is Gabriel hurt?”
“He’ll recover.”
Ronan sounded exhausted.
“What happened?”
“We found him inside an office near the runway. Pierce left twenty minutes before we arrived.”
“Did Gabriel tell you anything?”
“He hasn't said much.”
Sadie heard something beneath Ronan’s voice.
Guilt.
“Are you okay?”
Silence.
Then, “Yes.”
“You're terrible at lying.”
“So I've been told.”
“By who?”
“You.”
Despite everything, she smiled.
Ronan continued.
“Vega told me Carl is cooperating.”
“Probably because he’s afraid of Martin.”
“Fear occasionally has administrative value.”
“That's dark.”
“I haven't slept.”
“Neither have I.”
A pause settled between them.
Not uncomfortable.
Just tired.
Ronan said, “I want you somewhere safer.”
“I am somewhere safe.”
“That location is compromised if Carl knew about our properties.”
“I’m not moving every six hours.”
“I know.”
Sadie leaned against the kitchen counter.
“What are you suggesting?”
“My home.”
“No.”
“I expected that.”
“Then why ask?”
“Because saying no is more useful when somebody gives you the choice.”
She stared at the wall.
He had learned something too.
“What kind of home?”
Ronan almost laughed.
“A house.”
“You know what I mean.”
“Private property outside the city. Security. Separate guest wing.”
“How many armed men?”
“Do you want the honest answer?”
“No.”
“That simplifies things.”
Sadie smiled despite herself.
“Temporary.”
“Temporary.”
“My own room.”
“Obviously.”
“No people reporting my movements to you.”
Ronan hesitated.
“Security reports threats, not your schedule.”
“Fine.”
“And one more condition.”
Sadie stiffened.
There it was.
She had been waiting.
“What?”
“You eat something.”
Sadie blinked.
“That's your condition?”
“You've consumed half a coffee in twelve hours.”
Her suspicion dissolved into irritation.
“You notice too much.”
“Yes.”
Two hours later, Sadie arrived at Ronan’s home.
Calling it a house seemed ridiculous.
The property sat beyond iron gates on several wooded acres north of the city.
Stone walls.
Tall windows.
A circular driveway.
Security discreet enough to appear decorative until Sadie noticed cameras positioned beneath the roofline.
Ronan met her outside.
He had changed clothes.
Dark trousers.
Black sweater.
No jacket.
Without the suit, he seemed slightly less like a legend whispered through restaurants.
Slightly.
Sadie stepped from the car.
“This is not a house.”
“It has doors and a roof.”
“So does a museum.”
Ronan took her suitcase.
She grabbed it.
He released it immediately.
That made her smile.
“Still learning?”
“Yes.”
Inside, the mansion surprised her.
She had expected cold marble and expensive emptiness.
There was marble.
There was also life.
Books stacked beside chairs.
An old chessboard.
A family photograph on a piano.
Ronan and a younger man stood beside an older couple.
Gabriel.
Sadie studied the photograph.
“You look happy.”
“We were.”
The past tense again.
Ronan led her toward the guest wing.
“No locks from the outside,” he said.
Sadie stopped.
“What?”
“You checked the hotel door three times before sleeping.”
“How do you know that?”
“Security cameras in the corridor.”
Her expression hardened.
“Not inside.”
“Obviously.”
She continued walking.
Ronan opened a guest room.
“There is a lock. You control it. Nobody else has a key except emergency security, and they won't enter without cause.”
Sadie looked around.
Large bed.
Windows overlooking trees.
Private bathroom.
Nothing threatening.
She set her suitcase down.
Ronan remained at the door.
He did not cross the threshold.
“You can stay as long as needed.”
“That sounds dangerous.”
“For who?”
“For your furniture.”
He almost smiled.
“Lunch in thirty minutes.”
“I’m going to sleep.”
“Then dinner.”
“I might sleep through dinner.”
“Breakfast.”
“Persistent.”
“Very.”
Sadie turned toward him.
“Ronan.”
He waited.
“Thank you for Gabriel.”
“I didn't do anything.”
“You went.”
“He’s my brother.”
“Exactly.”
She understood what it meant to leave somebody even when leaving hurt.
Ronan nodded once.
Then walked away.
Sadie closed the door.
Locked it.
She expected the lock to feel like protection.
Instead, she found herself staring at it.
Carl used to lock the bedroom door during arguments.
Sometimes with himself inside.
Sometimes with her.
Sadie unlocked Ronan's door.
Then left it that way.
She slept for five hours.
When she woke, sunlight had disappeared.
The house was quiet.
Sadie followed voices toward the library.
Ronan stood beside a couch.
Gabriel sat beneath a blanket.
He looked like Ronan but younger and thinner.
A bruise darkened his temple.
When he saw Sadie, he stiffened.
Ronan turned.
“You’re awake.”
Gabriel studied her.
“This is Sadie?”
She stopped.
“You know me?”
Gabriel looked at Ronan.
Ronan's expression sharpened.
“How?”
Gabriel swallowed.
“Martin showed me her picture.”
Sadie’s skin went cold.
“When?”
“Two weeks ago.”
Ronan’s voice hardened.
“Why?”
Gabriel looked frightened.
“He said Carl’s girlfriend had accidentally picked up something that belonged to him.”
Sadie frowned.
“What?”
“A flash drive.”
She stared.
“I've never seen a flash drive.”
Gabriel shook his head.
“Martin believed you had it.”
Ronan stepped closer.
“What was on it?”
“Records. Transfer manifests. Payments. Everything.”
Sadie’s thoughts raced.
“I don't have it.”
Gabriel studied her.
“Carl might have hidden it among your belongings.”
Sadie immediately thought of the apartment.
Her suitcase.
The envelope.
The closet.
Then something else.
Her makeup bag.
She had left it behind.
“Carl gave me something months ago.”
Ronan waited.
“A little black drive. He said it had photos from our vacation and asked me to keep it somewhere safe.”
Gabriel stood too quickly and winced.
“That's it.”
“Where is it?”
Sadie closed her eyes.
“My makeup bag.”
Ronan’s face changed.
“Where?”
“At the apartment.”
Sadie had deliberately left it on the bathroom counter.
Ronan reached for his phone.
“Leo.”
Sadie grabbed his wrist.
“You're not sending people in there blindly.”
Ronan looked at her.
“Then what do you suggest?”
“I know where I put it.”
“You're not going back.”
Sadie lifted an eyebrow.
“We discussed this word.”
Ronan sighed.
Gabriel unexpectedly laughed.
Ronan glared at him.
Gabriel shrugged.
“I like her.”
Sadie looked between the brothers.
For one strange second, the mansion felt almost normal.
Then Ronan’s phone rang.
Leo.
His expression changed as he listened.
“What happened?”
Sadie waited.
Ronan lowered the phone.
“The apartment burned.”
Her heart stopped.
“What?”
“Fire department arrived twenty minutes ago.”
“The building?”
“Contained to your unit.”
Sadie understood immediately.
Not an accident.
Someone knew about the drive.
And whoever had set the fire believed destroying Sadie’s old life was easier than allowing the truth hidden inside it to survive.
But Carl had made one mistake months earlier.
He had given the flash drive to a woman who had spent years learning how to hide important things.
May you like
And Sadie suddenly remembered that she had never kept it in the makeup bag at all.
---
