Chapter 6 - The Dock and the Betrayal
The rain was coming down in freezing, jagged sheets as we forced Arthur toward Dock 4.
The Morelli estate was located on a sprawling waterfront property, and the private docks were a ten-minute run through the manicured, mud-slicked gardens. I kept my hand clamped tightly over the pocket of my apron, feeling the solid weight of the black ledger against my hip.
Daniel kept his grip locked onto Arthur’s arm, the fire poker still firmly in his other hand. Arthur was limping, cursing us with every step, but he didn't try to break free.
As we broke through the treeline, the massive steel expanse of Dock 4 came into view.
A sleek, black SUV was idling near the edge of the pier, its headlights cutting through the heavy rain. Behind it, the dark silhouette of a cargo freighter bobbed menacingly in the choppy water.
“Leo!” Daniel shouted, breaking into a sprint, dragging Arthur with him.
Two men in dark raincoats stepped out of the idling SUV. They didn't draw weapons, but they stood with the relaxed, terrifying posture of men who knew they were in complete control.
“Hold it right there, Daniel,” a familiar voice called out over the roar of the rain.
A third man stepped out from behind the SUV.
It was Marcus. Vincent’s head of security.
I stopped dead in my tracks, my boots sliding in the mud. Marcus wasn't supposed to be here. He was supposed to be in the dining room, protecting Vincent.
“Marcus?” I yelled. “What are you doing? Arrest them!”
Marcus just smiled—a cold, pitiless expression that made my blood run ice-cold. He walked slowly toward us, pulling a suppressed pistol from his shoulder holster.
“I’m afraid I can't do that, Elena,” Marcus said calmly. “You see, Arthur pays far better than Vincent ever did. When you sprayed my man in the locker room, Arthur texted me. I slipped out through the cellar to secure the package.”
Reversal. Arthur didn't act alone inside the house. Marcus, the man trusted with Vincent’s life, had been on Arthur’s payroll from the very beginning.
Arthur wrenched his arm free from Daniel’s loosened grip, laughing as he limped over to stand beside Marcus.
“You fools,” Arthur spat, wiping blood from his chin. “You thought you could outsmart me with a can of oven cleaner? Give me the ledger, Elena. Now.”
Daniel stepped in front of me, shielding me from Marcus’s gun.
“Where is my son, Marcus?” Daniel demanded, his voice cracking with raw desperation. “You have your money. You have your ledger. Just give me Leo.”
“The boy is in the trunk,” Marcus said, gesturing lazily to the idling SUV. “Toss the ledger over, and you can have him.”
I reached into my apron. My fingers traced the leather binding of the book. It was the only leverage we had. If I gave it to them, they would kill us both and throw Leo onto the freighter anyway.
But a father’s desperation is a powerful thing.
“Give it to him, Elena,” Daniel pleaded, turning to me with tears streaming down his face. “Please. It’s my little boy.”
I couldn't look Daniel in the eye. Slowly, trembling, I pulled the black ledger from my pocket and tossed it onto the wet wooden planks of the dock.
Arthur snatched it up immediately, tucking it safely inside his ruined coat.
“Open the trunk,” Arthur ordered Marcus.
Marcus pressed the key fob. The rear hatch of the SUV slowly hummed open.
Daniel ran toward the vehicle, throwing his arms out to catch his frightened child. “Leo! Daddy’s here!”
But as Daniel reached the open trunk, he froze.
He didn't reach inside. He just stood there, staring into the back of the car, his hands slowly falling to his sides.
“No,” Daniel whispered.
I ran up behind him and looked inside.
There was no little boy.
The trunk was completely empty, save for a single, heavy silver briefcase. It had been sliced open with a box cutter, its contents spilling out across the carpeted floorboard.
It wasn't money. It wasn't offshore bearer bonds.
It was hundreds of pounds of shredded, worthless newspaper.
Arthur pushed past me, staring into the trunk. The color completely drained from his arrogant face.
“Where is the money?” Arthur screamed, turning wildly on Marcus. “Where is the boy?!”
Marcus looked just as stunned. “I swear to God, Arthur, I loaded the cash and the kid into this car twenty minutes ago!”
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Then, from the darkness of the pier, a woman’s voice cut through the rain.
“You really shouldn't leave your keys in the ignition, boys.”
