Chapter 5 - THE HEAVY WOOL COAT
"Get him upstairs!" Julian roared, shoving Leo into Mara’s arms. "Lock yourselves in the master bath. Do not come out unless you hear my voice."
Mara didn't hesitate. She gripped Leo tightly and ran up the grand staircase, her heart hammering against her ribs. She slammed the heavy oak door of the master suite, then bolted the reinforced bathroom door behind them. She set Leo in the dry bathtub, wrapping a plush towel around his small shoulders.
"It's okay, Leo," she whispered, her hands shaking slightly. "Your uncle has this. We just have to be quiet."
Downstairs, she heard Julian shouting orders. The heavy thud of furniture being moved. But no gunfire. Not yet.
Ten agonizing minutes passed. Then, heavy footsteps pounded up the stairs.
"Mara! Open the door!" It was Julian.
She unlocked the deadbolt. Julian stood there, his chest heaving, his gun drawn but lowered. Behind him stood Silas, clutching his bloody side.
"The perimeter is secure," Julian said, his eyes scanning the room. "Silas drove through an ambush on his way here. He lost them, but they know the general area."
Mara looked at Silas. She did what she had done for seven years at Carver's. She read him.
Silas was bleeding, yes. A graze wound on his ribs. But his shoulders weren't tense with the adrenaline of a firefight. His eyes weren't darting, checking the windows for threats. He was perfectly still. And his right hand kept twitching toward the deep pocket of his heavy wool coat.
Watch the hands first.
"Silas," Mara said softly. "Why is your coat pocket ringing?"
Silas froze.
Julian’s head snapped toward his second-in-command. The faint, muffled vibration of a cell phone was coming from Silas's coat.
"It's nothing, Boss. Just my burner," Silas stammered, taking a step back.
In a fraction of a second, Julian closed the distance. He pinned Silas against the wall, his forearm pressed brutally against the man's throat. He reached into Silas's coat pocket and pulled out a cheap, disposable phone.
Julian answered it, putting it on speaker.
A voice echoed into the room. It belonged to the developer who had been sitting at Table Twelve. The man Julian had been meeting with. Marcus.
"Did you deliver the girl, Silas?" Marcus’s voice crackled. "We have her sister. If Cross doesn't hand over the waitress in the next hour, Elena Solano dies."
Mara’s blood ran completely cold.
"You son of a bitch," Julian hissed, pressing his gun under Silas's jaw.
"They have my daughter, Julian!" Silas sobbed, the tough exterior shattering completely. "Marcus took my little girl this morning! He told me to stage an attack, come here, and leave the back door unlocked for his men. I had no choice!"
Mara couldn't breathe. Her sister. Elena. The girl she had spent ten years waiting tables to protect, was in the hands of a murderer.
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Julian lowered his gun. He looked at Mara, the cold calculation back in his eyes, but softened with a fierce, protective fury.
"They aren't getting your sister," Julian promised her. He tossed Silas's phone onto the bed. "And they aren't getting you."
