Chapter 2 - The Confession
“Did someone hurt you?”
The question hung in the quiet of the library, heavier than the September humidity outside.
Maggie pulled her sleeve down so hard I heard the fabric tear. She didn’t look at me. She looked at Owen, still sleeping peacefully against the couch cushions, safe from whatever monsters usually chased him through the night.
“It’s not what you think, Mr. Calder.”
“Vincent.” I kept my voice perfectly level. “And I haven’t said what I think.”
A tear spilled over her lower lash, catching the dim light of the reading lamp. “It was an accident. I fell.”
“I have men who work on the docks, Maggie. I know what a fall looks like. I know what a grip looks like. You have four finger-shaped bruises on your upper arm and a contusion on your ribs that suggests a closed fist.”
She shrank back. Not from me, but from the truth I was pulling into the open.
“His name is Darren,” she whispered, her voice barely carrying over the sound of the grandfather clock in the hall. “Darren Cole.”
“Your boyfriend.”
“Ex.” She swallowed hard. “He… he found out where I work. Who I work for. He says a man like you would pay a lot to avoid a scandal. He wanted me to give him the security codes to the east wing.”
My blood went completely still. The east wing. Where Owen’s bedroom was.
“And when you said no?” I asked.
“He reminded me what happens when I say no.”
She reached up, trembling, and gently stroked Owen’s hair. It was the most maternal, fiercely protective gesture I had ever seen. Even terrified, her first instinct was to comfort my son.
“He said he’ll come back tomorrow,” Maggie breathed, finally looking up at me. Her hazel eyes were wide, drowning in a specific kind of terror I was very used to being the cause of. “If I don’t get him the codes, he said he’ll come here. He’ll make a scene. He’ll ruin this for me. Vincent… I can’t lose this job. I can’t lose Owen.”
“You aren’t going to lose this job.”
I stood up. I didn’t raise my voice. I didn’t need to.
“Go to sleep, Maggie. You and Owen stay here in the library tonight. I’ll lock the door behind me.”
“What are you going to do?”
“I’m going to make sure Darren Cole never asks you for a security code again.”
I walked out to the hallway, pulling my phone from my pocket. I dialed a number I only used when money couldn't solve a problem, but fear could.
“It’s me,” I said when the line clicked open. “I need a pickup. A man named Darren Cole. Bring him to the warehouse on Pier 4. Don’t break him. Just box him up.”
I hung up, staring at my own reflection in the dark window glass. I wasn't going to kill him. Death was too quick for a man who put his hands on a woman. I was going to erase him.
But four hours later, my phone buzzed. It was Elias, my head of security.
“Boss, we got him. He’s on ice at the pier.”
“Good.”
“But there’s a problem.” Elias sounded shaken. Elias never sounded shaken. “We tossed his apartment like you asked. Found a safe under the floorboards.”
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“And?”
“There’s a file in it, Vincent. It’s got pictures of your house. Pictures of Maggie.” Elias paused, the silence stretching tight. “And there’s a silver pearl bracelet. The one your wife was wearing the night her car went off the bridge.”
