Chapter 6 - The Nurse Who Remembered Everything
Ava did not cry when she discovered Sophie was gone.
That frightened Gideon more than tears would have.
She stood in the center of the dining room staring at the sunflower on the floor.
Her face became blank.
Too blank for a nine-year-old.
Gideon recognized the expression.
It was the face of someone whose fear had exceeded what the body could process.
“Sophie,” she whispered.
Gideon crouched in front of her.
“We’ll get her back.”
Ava looked at him.
“You promised.”
The words struck harder than accusation.
“Yes.”
“You said we were safe.”
“I know.”
“You said you would save Mommy.”
“I will.”
“And now Sophie’s gone.”
Gideon could offer no defense.
Marcus approached.
“We found the extraction route.”
Gideon stood.
“How?”
“Service tunnel beneath the east wing.”
“Who knew?”
“Apparently more people than we thought.”
Gideon looked toward the dark hallway.
Crosswell House was no longer a fortress.
It was a trap with beautiful walls.
“Get Ava off the property.”
Ava grabbed his coat.
“No!”
“Listen—”
“No!”
“I can’t protect you here.”
“I’m going with you.”
“No.”
“Sophie is my sister!”
“And that’s why you’re staying alive.”
Ava’s eyes filled.
“I left her.”
“You did not leave her.”
“I ran from the library.”
“You were terrified.”
“I should have stayed.”
Gideon lowered his voice.
“Ava.”
She looked at him.
“When people hurt someone we love, they want us to believe every bad thing afterward is our fault.”
He had learned that lesson slowly.
Too slowly.
“You are nine years old,” he said. “The adults failed tonight. Not you.”
Ava finally cried.
Gideon allowed her to hold his sleeve.
It was the first time in one year that a child had leaned against him.
He did not know what to do.
So he simply stayed still.
Twenty minutes later Ava was placed in an armored SUV with Marcus’s wife, Dana, a former federal investigator who lived less than fifteen minutes away.
Dana had arrived without questions.
She looked at Gideon before leaving.
“Bring the kid home.”
“Both of them.”
“And their mother.”
Gideon nodded.
Dana drove away.
Gideon turned toward Marcus.
“Lake Street terminal.”
Marcus shook his head.
“Silas said Pier 17.”
“That is where Sophie will be.”
“And Hannah?”
“Peter says Lake Street.”
“You trust him?”
“No.”
“Good.”
“We split.”
Marcus frowned.
“Absolutely not.”
“You take Pier 17 surveillance. I get Hannah.”
“That’s exactly what Silas expects.”
“Silas expects me to choose Sophie.”
Marcus stared at him.
“And you’re not?”
“I’m choosing both.”
The old Lake Street terminal sat beneath elevated tracks in an industrial section long abandoned by passenger service.
At 11:07 p.m., Gideon approached through a maintenance corridor with two men he trusted absolutely.
Or as absolutely as he could trust anyone anymore.
The building smelled of rust and wet concrete.
Power had been disconnected years earlier, but dim lamps glowed below ground.
Someone had installed generators.
They found the first guard near a stairwell.
Gideon avoided gunfire.
A silent struggle.
A weapon removed.
A man restrained.
Another guard surrendered when he saw Gideon.
Fear still had uses.
They reached the basement.
Behind a steel door, Gideon heard movement.
He opened it.
Hannah Reed sat tied to a chair.
She looked older than her photographs.
Mid-thirties.
Dark hair disheveled.
Bruises along one cheek.
But alive.
Her eyes widened.
“Gideon.”
He cut the restraints.
“Where’s Sophie?”
Hannah’s face collapsed.
“They took her?”
“Yes.”
“Oh God.”
“We’ll get her.”
Hannah stood unsteadily.
“You found Ava?”
“She’s safe.”
Hannah gripped the table.
For several seconds, she simply cried.
Gideon waited.
Then she looked at the pendant around his neck.
“You found Ren’s room.”
“Yes.”
“You heard the recordings?”
“Yes.”
“I’m sorry.”
“For what?”
“For waiting a year.”
Gideon looked at her.
“Why did you?”
“You heard why.”
“I heard Silas threatened your daughters.”
“He did more than threaten us.”
Hannah wiped her face.
“He followed Ava to school. Left photographs of Sophie sleeping on my windshield. Broke into our apartment without taking anything. I understood.”
“You should have come to me.”
“I tried.”
Gideon stopped.
“When?”
“Eleven months ago.”
“That’s impossible.”
“I called your office. Three times.”
“Who answered?”
“Your assistant.”
“Which one?”
“Mr. Kane arranged most of your schedule then.”
Of course.
“I sent a letter.”
“I never received it.”
“I know.”
“How?”
“Two days later Silas put the same letter on my kitchen table.”
Gideon closed his eyes briefly.
Silas had controlled more than business.
He had controlled grief itself.
“What did Ren see?” Gideon asked.
Hannah looked at him.
“You know about the photograph.”
“Yes.”
“She saw Silas meeting someone.”
“Who?”
Hannah hesitated.
“Deputy Mayor Thomas Vane.”
Gideon’s face hardened.
Vane had built a public career on anti-corruption promises.
He was currently running for mayor.
“What were they doing?”
“Ren took a photograph through your study door. Silas and Vane were looking at shipping documents.”
“That isn’t enough to kill anyone.”
“They weren’t ordinary documents.”
“What were they?”
“Records showing weapons moving through Crosswell containers.”
Gideon’s eyes narrowed.
“No.”
“I knew you’d say that.”
“I never moved weapons.”
“Silas did.”
Gideon stared at her.
“He used your company?”
“For years.”
“With Vane?”
Hannah nodded.
“And federal customs officials. Police. Port inspectors.”
“How do you know?”
“Daniel Hurst.”
“The truck driver?”
“He wasn’t just a driver. He had transported shipments for Kane.”
Hannah moved toward an old desk.
“Three days before he died in jail, he called me.”
“Why you?”
“He found my name after learning I was the nurse who heard Ren.”
“What did he say?”
“He said he had been paid to cause a collision.”
Gideon’s hands curled.
“He knew Ren was in the car?”
“No.”
That mattered.
Not enough.
But it mattered.
“He thought you were.”
Hannah continued.
“When he learned a child died, he panicked. Silas told him to stay quiet. Then Daniel was arrested.”
“You recorded him.”
“Yes.”
“Where?”
“Pier 17.”
Gideon looked at her.
“Silas knows.”
“He knows part of it.”
“What doesn’t he know?”
Hannah gave a tired smile.
“Evelyn and I made three copies.”
“Where?”
“One is at Pier 17.”
“And the others?”
“One went to Evelyn.”
Gideon felt sudden alarm.
“Is she safe?”
“I don’t know.”
He immediately called his ex-wife.
No answer.
Again.
Nothing.
His stomach tightened.
“The third copy?”
Hannah stared at the pendant.
“Inside that.”
Gideon touched it.
“What?”
“The flower opens.”
He examined the seam.
Hannah took the pendant carefully.
She pressed two petals simultaneously.
The back released.
Inside was a tiny memory card.
Gideon stared.
Silas had been hunting the evidence while it hung around Sophie’s neck.
“What’s on it?”
“Everything.”
“Then why does Silas need Pier 17?”
“Because he doesn’t know the card exists.”
Gideon almost laughed.
A year of murder, intimidation, betrayal, and desperation.
And the truth was smaller than a fingernail.
His phone rang.
Marcus.
Gideon answered.
“Tell me.”
Marcus’s voice was tense.
“We have visual on Pier 17.”
“Sophie?”
“Alive.”
Hannah covered her mouth.
“Silas?”
“Yes.”
“Anything else?”
A pause.
“Gideon, you need to see this.”
“What?”
“There’s another hostage.”
Gideon’s blood chilled.
“Who?”
May you like
Marcus answered.
“Evelyn.”
