Chapter 8 - TWO BROTHERS, ONE EMPIREAt 11:40 a.m., Adrian Vale walked into Marston Cold Storage alone.
His reaction terrified everyone in Vale House.
“Find her.”
Mason stood in the study.
“We're trying.”
“You were supposed to have two men outside her room.”
“She left through the service elevator.”
“Then find the guards.”
“They're unconscious.”
Adrian slowly looked up.
“Unconscious?”
“Sedative.”
For one second, nobody spoke.
Then Vivienne covered a laugh.
Adrian turned.
“Mother.”
“I'm sorry.”
“You're laughing?”
“She drugged your guards.”
“This is not amusing.”
Vivienne's smile disappeared.
“Of course not.”
Adrian faced Mason.
“How?”
“The kitchen.”
Rosa appeared in the doorway.
Guilty.
Adrian stared.
“What did you give them?”
“Chamomile tea.”
Mason raised an eyebrow.
“With prescription sleeping medication.”
Rosa folded her arms.
“They should know better than to drink unattended beverages while guarding someone.”
Adrian looked ready to explode.
“Where is Sarah?”
Rosa hesitated.
“Rosa.”
“She asked me for an old staff uniform.”
“Why?”
“She said men like you never notice invisible people.”
Adrian froze.
The Marlowe.
He turned toward Mason.
“She went back to the hotel.”
Sarah had indeed returned to the Grand Marlowe.
Wearing a borrowed housekeeping uniform and a baseball cap.
Her ribs still hurt.
Her shoulder throbbed.
But she had something Adrian didn't.
Nobody important noticed waitresses.
Nobody powerful remembered maids.
And staff heard everything.
She entered through the employee loading dock using an old temporary badge.
Her former coworker Jenna nearly dropped a stack of towels when she saw her.
“Sarah?”
“Shh.”
“You're on television!”
“I know.”
“You married Adrian Vale?”
“No.”
“TMZ says—”
“Jenna.”
“Right. Sorry.”
Sarah pulled her into an empty supply closet.
“I need your help.”
Twenty minutes later, they were inside the staff scheduling office.
Sarah found the roster from the night of the shooting.
“Who added this employee?”
She pointed toward the fake waiter's name.
Jenna studied it.
“Temporary agency.”
“Which manager approved it?”
“Looks like Mr. Bell.”
“Who?”
“Richard Bell. Event security liaison.”
Sarah's pulse quickened.
“Was he here that night?”
“Yes.”
“Does he limp?”
Jenna thought.
“A little.”
Sarah went cold.
“Where's his office?”
Fourth floor.
Locked.
Jenna produced a master key.
“Housekeeping.”
Sarah smiled.
“God bless invisible people.”
Inside Richard Bell's office, they found nothing unusual at first.
Files.
Invoices.
Schedules.
Then Sarah saw a framed photograph on the shelf.
Richard Bell shaking hands with Adrian Vale at a charity event.
Gold watch.
Same one.
She turned the frame over.
An envelope was taped to the back.
Inside was a storage-unit key.
And a handwritten number.
Sarah took both.
Then she heard footsteps.
Jenna whispered, “Someone's coming.”
Sarah ducked behind the door.
Richard Bell entered.
Alive.
Closer than she expected.
Older.
Silver at the temples.
Limp in his left leg.
He closed the door behind him.
“You should have stayed dead.”
Sarah's blood froze.
Bell smiled.
“You really made a mess of things.”
She backed away.
“You worked with the shooter.”
“I recruited him.”
“For Julian.”
His smile widened.
“So you've been listening.”
“Where's Ethan?”
“Not here.”
He pulled a pistol from beneath his coat.
Sarah's heart hammered.
“Julian doesn't need you anymore.”
“Then why hasn't he killed Ethan?”
Bell's expression changed slightly.
Sarah kept talking.
“Because Julian doesn't want the boy dead.”
“Shut up.”
“He wants Adrian to believe he does.”
“You know nothing.”
“I know he could've killed Ethan during the attack.”
Bell raised the weapon.
Sarah watched his eyes.
Not the gun.
She had learned that from Adrian's guards.
“Julian wants the company.”
“He wants what belongs to him.”
“So you're loyal.”
Bell laughed.
“Loyalty is for dogs.”
“Then money.”
Silence.
Sarah saw it.
“You're going to betray Julian too.”
His smile disappeared.
“That ledger is worth billions to the right people.”
There.
Confirmation.
Sarah's phone was recording inside her apron pocket.
Bell stepped closer.
“Give me your phone.”
She didn't move.
“Now.”
Sarah slowly reached into her pocket.
Then the office door exploded inward.
Adrian Vale entered like violence given human form.
Two guards followed.
Bell spun.
Adrian hit him before he could fire.
The gun skidded away.
Bell crashed into the desk.
Adrian grabbed him by the collar.
“Where is my son?”
Bell laughed through blood.
“You'll never find him.”
Adrian hit him again.
“Adrian!”
Sarah grabbed his arm.
He stopped.
Barely.
She held up the storage key.
“I found this.”
Bell's eyes flicked toward it.
Fear.
Adrian noticed.
“Where?”
“Taped behind his photograph.”
Mason took the key.
“317.”
Bell lunged.
Not toward Adrian.
Toward the key.
Two guards slammed him to the floor.
Sarah looked at Adrian.
“That matters.”
Twenty-three minutes later, they were racing toward a storage facility in Queens.
Unit 317 contained no weapons.
No money.
No Ethan.
It contained photographs.
Hundreds.
Adrian.
Ethan.
Sarah.
Vivienne.
Members of Adrian's organization.
Politicians.
Police officers.
And one massive wall map.
Red strings connected locations across New York.
Mason stared.
“This is surveillance going back years.”
Sarah moved toward a table.
On it stood a laptop.
Still warm.
Someone had been there recently.
Adrian opened it.
Password required.
Mason's technician began working.
Sarah noticed something else.
A photograph of a warehouse.
Behind it, barely visible, a red bridge.
She knew that bridge.
“My father used to drive trucks near there.”
Adrian looked at her.
“Where?”
“Red Hook.”
Mason stepped closer.
“There are thirty warehouses in Red Hook.”
Sarah studied the photo.
A faded blue sign.
Three letters.
MAR.
“Marston Cold Storage.”
Mason started typing.
“It closed seven years ago.”
Sarah's pulse accelerated.
“Who owns it?”
Mason looked at the screen.
A shell company.
Adrian stared.
“Owned by?”
Mason's face hardened.
“Julian.”
They had a location.
Adrian immediately began issuing orders.
Sarah caught his arm.
“You can't storm it.”
“My son is there.”
“Maybe.”
“That's enough.”
“Bell expected the key to be found eventually.”
Adrian looked at her.
“It could be a trap.”
“I don't care.”
“I do.”
Their eyes locked.
Sarah lowered her voice.
“Don't make Ethan lose another parent because you're angry.”
It stopped him.
The room became silent.
Adrian took one breath.
Then another.
“What do you suggest?”
Sarah looked at the maps.
“Julian expects Adrian Vale to come through the front door with an army.”
“Yes.”
“So don't.”
“What?”
She looked at the old catering badge still clipped beneath her coat.
“Send someone nobody sees.”
Adrian's answer was immediate.
“No.”
“Adrian.”
“No.”
“I'm smaller, unnoticed, and Julian thinks I'm protected at your house.”
“He also tried to have you killed.”
“I got close to Bell because he underestimated me.”
“This conversation is over.”
Sarah stepped closer.
“Your son is in that building.”
His face twisted.
“That's exactly why you're not going inside.”
Before Sarah could answer, Mason's technician spoke.
“I'm in.”
Everyone turned toward the laptop.
A live camera feed appeared.
Warehouse interior.
Ethan.
Alive.
And sitting beside him was a man.
Dark hair.
Elegant suit.
A face nearly identical to Adrian's.
Julian Vale looked directly into the camera.
As though he knew they were watching.
Then he smiled.
He held up a card.
NOON.
COME ALONE.
BECAUSE IF I SEE THE WAITRESS—
May you like
He flipped the card.
SHE DIES FIRST.
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