Chapter 3 - THE TRAIN TICKET
“Put the watch on the floor, Adrian,” Thomas said.
His voice didn’t have the smug, arrogant tone he used in the breakfast room. It was tight. Desperate.
Adrian didn’t move. He looked at the gun, then up at the man who had run his security for five years.
“You killed Julian,” Adrian said. It wasn’t a question.
“Julian was weak,” Thomas spat, keeping the gun leveled. “He was going to hand the port contracts over to the Feds to buy himself a clean record. He was going to sell us all out, Adrian. I did what had to be done to protect the family.”
“You protected yourself,” Adrian corrected, his voice lethally calm. “And then you tortured a maid to cover your tracks.”
Thomas scoffed, stepping closer. “She was a nosy peasant who walked in at the wrong time. I was just retrieving what Julian stole. Now kick the watch over here.”
Adrian held up the small, yellow train ticket.
“Is this what you’re looking for, Thomas?”
Thomas’s eyes locked onto the ticket. A flash of pure greed crossed his face.
“Julian hid a ledger in a locker at Union Station,” Thomas said, his finger tightening on the trigger. “It has all the routing numbers for the offshore accounts. Hand over the ticket, and maybe I’ll just walk out of here and disappear.”
“You won’t make it past the front gates,” Adrian said.
“I already own the front gates, boss,” Thomas sneered. “Half the security detail outside belongs to me now. We’ve been planning this for months. Drop the ticket.”
Adrian calculated his odds. He was unarmed. Thomas was desperate.
“What makes you think you can control the maid?” Adrian asked, stalling for time. “Nora will talk.”
Thomas let out a dark, ugly laugh.
He reached into his breast pocket with his free hand and pulled out a glossy photograph.
He tossed it onto the concrete floor.
It landed near Adrian’s shoes.
Adrian looked down.
It was a picture of a little girl with pigtails, wearing a yellow backpack, climbing the steps of a yellow school bus.
“Her name is Lily,” Thomas said softly. “She’s seven years old. Nora’s little miracle. My men took that picture this morning. They are currently following her school bus.”
The realization hit Adrian like a physical blow.
Nora hadn’t just been terrified of losing her job. She was being held hostage through her child.
“If Nora breathes a word to anyone, my men get a phone call, and little Lily never comes home from school,” Thomas smiled. “Now. Give me the ticket.”
Adrian stared at the photograph of the innocent child. The sheer evil of the man standing in front of him washed away any hesitation.
“No,” Adrian said softly.
Thomas’s face hardened. “Then you die down here.”
Thomas raised the gun, aiming for Adrian’s head.
A deafening gunshot shattered the silence of the basement.
But Adrian didn’t feel any pain.
Thomas’s eyes went wide. A dark red stain blossomed across the center of his chest. He gasped, dropping his weapon, and collapsed to the concrete floor, dead before he even stopped moving.
Adrian whipped around.
Standing at the bottom of the basement stairs, holding a smoking handgun, was Michael.
Adrian’s gray-haired advisor. The man who had been at the breakfast table.
“Are you alright, Mr. Vale?” Michael asked, keeping his gun aimed at Thomas’s body as he walked forward.
Adrian exhaled a breath he didn’t realize he was holding. “He pulled a gun on me. He was the one who killed Julian.”
“I suspected as much,” Michael said grimly, kicking Thomas’s gun away. “I saw him slip out of the breakfast room. I followed him down here just in time.”
Michael looked down at the floor, noting the photograph of Nora’s daughter.
Then, Michael’s eyes shifted to Adrian’s hand.
He stared at the yellow train ticket.
“Is that what Thomas was looking for?” Michael asked gently.
Adrian looked at Michael.
Michael’s voice was smooth, almost soothing. But his eyes were completely fixed on the ticket. He didn’t ask about the watch. He didn’t ask about Julian.
Answer One: Thomas wasn’t the mastermind. He was the muscle.
Open Two: How did Michael know to look at the ticket? And why did he shoot Thomas before Thomas could reveal who he was working with?
Adrian’s blood ran cold.
Michael hadn’t shot Thomas to save Adrian. He had shot Thomas to silence him.
Adrian smoothly slid the ticket into his suit pocket, keeping his face entirely impassive.
“It’s just an old dry-cleaning receipt Thomas dropped,” Adrian lied smoothly. “Julian’s watch is what he wanted.”
Michael’s eyes lingered on Adrian’s pocket for a fraction of a second before he nodded, playing along. “Of course, sir. We should get you upstairs. The estate is compromised.”
“Go secure the front gates, Michael,” Adrian ordered, projecting absolute authority. “Find out which guards were loyal to Thomas. I need to check on Nora.”
Michael hesitated, but he bowed his head. “Yes, Mr. Vale.”
Michael turned and walked up the stairs.
Adrian waited until the heavy door clicked shut. Then he looked down at the photograph of the little girl on the floor.
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If Michael was the true mastermind, and Thomas’s men were loyal to Michael... then the threat against Nora’s daughter was still very real.
Adrian grabbed the photograph and sprinted up the service stairs toward the medical room.
