Chapter 3 - The Ledger Beneath the Floor
The first explosion came from outside.
Not close enough to collapse the warehouse.
Close enough to shake dust from the rafters.
“Down!” Roman shouted.
He shoved Norah behind a concrete support column as glass burst inward from the upper windows.
Finn dropped beside an overturned crate.
Enzo drew his weapon.
“East entrance!”
Gunfire echoed outside.
Roman kept one arm across Norah.
She could feel his heart hammering against her shoulder.
“You said this place was secure.”
“It was.”
“That answer is becoming less comforting.”
Roman almost laughed despite himself.
Another blast shook the building.
Enzo shouted into his radio.
“They’re testing the perimeter, not coming inside.”
Roman understood immediately.
“A diversion.”
“For what?”
He looked toward the corridor where Marco had been taken.
“Marco.”
They reached the basement holding room less than a minute later.
The guard outside was unconscious.
The door stood open.
Marco was gone.
Roman stopped.
His face became unreadable.
Finn examined the dropped restraints.
“Inside job.”
Roman looked at Enzo.
“Lock the estate down.”
“It already is.”
“Again.”
Enzo made the calls.
Norah stood beside the empty chair.
“Marco knew you’d bring him here.”
“Yes.”
“He knew DeLuca would attack.”
“Yes.”
“He wanted to get caught.”
Roman looked at her.
That possibility had not occurred to him.
Norah continued.
“He could’ve run from the estate before you found Finn.”
“Why didn’t he?”
“Because he wanted access to something here.”
Finn nodded.
“The ledger?”
Roman turned toward the concrete wall.
His father had used this warehouse for private records.
After his death, Roman had emptied most of it.
Most.
He walked to an old steel cabinet.
Unlocked it.
Nothing inside.
Then Norah noticed scratches on the floor.
“Roman.”
He followed her gaze.
One cabinet leg had been dragged repeatedly across the concrete.
Roman and Finn pushed the cabinet aside.
A square steel plate lay beneath.
Roman stared at it.
“I’ve never seen this.”
They opened it.
A narrow staircase descended into darkness.
Enzo returned.
“Boss?”
Roman pointed.
“Flashlights.”
The hidden room beneath the warehouse was small and dry.
Steel shelves lined the walls.
Boxes.
Paper ledgers.
Photographs.
Old cassette tapes.
Documents dating back twenty years.
Roman stood in the center.
“My father.”
Norah looked around.
“This was his?”
“Had to be.”
Finn opened a box.
“Maybe Marco wanted something your father hid.”
Norah saw a label.
PORT ACCOUNTS – 2018.
Another.
POLITICAL PAYMENTS.
Another.
BENNETT.
Her heart stopped.
She pulled the box down.
Roman noticed.
“Norah.”
She opened it.
Inside were photographs of her father.
Daniel Bennett at a restaurant.
Daniel outside a bank.
Daniel entering a Costa shipping office.
Her father had been an accountant.
Quiet.
Nervous.
The sort of man who ironed his shirts Sunday night and hated being late.
He had told Norah he worked for a regional freight company.
He had never mentioned the Costa family.
Norah lifted a photograph with shaking fingers.
“My father worked for you.”
Roman examined the date.
“Not for me. For my father.”
“What difference does that make?”
“To you? Probably none.”
At least he was honest.
Finn found a folder.
D. BENNETT – INTERNAL AUDIT.
Norah opened it.
The first page contained her father’s handwriting.
Numbers.
Transfers.
Shipping companies.
Large payments routed through fake vendors.
At the bottom:
Approximately $11.8 million unaccounted for.
Roman read silently.
“Marco.”
“What?”
“He managed port expenditures that year.”
Norah looked at him.
“My father found Marco stealing.”
Roman continued turning pages.
Then stopped.
A typed memo:
BENNETT REQUESTED PRIVATE MEETING WITH A. COSTA.
Antonio Costa.
Roman’s father.
The meeting occurred six days before Daniel Bennett died.
Norah whispered, “Car accident.”
Roman looked at her.
“What?”
“My father died in a car accident.”
“When?”
She gave the date.
Roman checked the memo.
Seven days after the meeting.
Finn swore under his breath.
Norah felt dizzy.
“For two years I thought he died owing money because of gambling.”
She found another document.
LOAN AGREEMENT.
$17,400.
Daniel Bennett.
The legitimate debt.
Then a second document.
Debt transfer.
Additional penalties.
Collection authorization.
Roman’s forged signature.
Marco had turned seventeen thousand into eighty thousand after Daniel died.
Why?
Because Norah had inherited something Marco wanted.
“The ledger,” Finn said.
Norah shook her head.
“I never saw one.”
Roman searched the box.
“He thought you had it.”
“Then why not just ask me?”
Finn answered.
“Because if you knew it mattered, you’d look for it.”
Norah closed her eyes.
Her father had left very few possessions.
Clothes.
Books.
An old pickup sold to pay funeral expenses.
A watch.
His apartment had been emptied.
Then she remembered something.
“His toolbox.”
Roman looked at her.
“What?”
“My father had a metal toolbox. Blue. He kept paperwork in the bottom because he didn’t trust computers.”
“Where is it?”
“I don’t know.”
“Think.”
“After he died, his landlord gave me boxes. I put some things in storage.”
Roman reached for his coat.
“We’re going.”
Finn stepped forward.
“You think Marco knows?”
Norah’s stomach twisted.
“He kept me at the estate for two years.”
Roman understood.
Marco had been waiting.
Watching.
If Norah ever retrieved the ledger, he could take it.
They drove to the storage facility after midnight.
Roman brought Enzo and two men.
Finn came too.
Roman didn’t like that.
Norah insisted.
“He knows what DeLuca wants.”
Roman glared at Finn.
Finn smiled.
“Try not to be jealous.”
“Finn.”
“Sorry.”
Norah hid a smile.
Roman saw it.
He hated that he saw it.
He hated more that he liked it.
The storage unit door had already been cut open.
Norah ran forward.
“Wait.”
Roman caught her waist.
“Someone could be inside.”
His hand remained there a second too long.
Norah looked down.
Roman released her.
Enzo checked the unit.
“Clear.”
Boxes were scattered everywhere.
Someone had searched them.
Norah found the toolbox.
Open.
Empty.
Her shoulders collapsed.
“We’re too late.”
Finn crouched near the door.
“Maybe not.”
He pointed toward the dust.
A rectangular outline.
Something had been beneath a plastic bin.
Norah lifted it.
An envelope.
Her name was written across it.
NORA-BIRD.
Her father’s nickname for her.
She sat down on the concrete floor.
Inside was a small brass key and a handwritten note.
Norah,
If something happens to me, do not trust anyone who says I owed them more than I told you.
The numbers are safe.
Not in the box.
Where your mother used to sing.
I’m sorry.
Dad.
Norah covered her mouth.
Her mother had died when Norah was fourteen.
She had sung in exactly one place every Sunday.
Saint Matthew’s Church.
Roman crouched beside her.
“Norah.”
She looked at him.
“My father knew he was going to die.”
Roman had no answer.
Then Enzo’s phone rang.
He listened.
His face changed.
“Boss.”
“What?”
“Estate security.”
Roman stood.
“What happened?”
“Someone got into your private office.”
Roman’s eyes went cold.
“What did they take?”
Enzo looked toward Norah.
“One thing.”
“The what?”
“The personnel file for Norah Bennett.”
Norah stood.
“Why would Marco want my personnel file?”
Roman already knew.
“Your address.”
“I lived at the estate.”
“Before that.”
Her stomach dropped.
Her childhood home.
The house where her mother used to sing while cooking.
The place Norah had not visited since her father died.
Roman picked up the envelope.
“Saint Matthew’s may be a decoy.”
Norah whispered, “You think the ledger is at my old house.”
“I think Marco thinks it is.”
Finn looked outside.
“Then we’d better move.”
Roman nodded.
But before they reached the vehicles, Norah’s phone rang.
Unknown number.
She answered.
A familiar voice spoke.
Marco.
“Hello, sweetheart.”
Roman reached for the phone.
Norah moved away.
“What do you want?”
“Something your father stole.”
“I don’t have it.”
“You will.”
Behind Marco’s voice, Norah heard a sound.
A church bell.
Her face changed.
Roman saw it.
Marco continued.
“Saint Matthew’s. Midnight tomorrow.”
Norah looked at Roman.
“If I don’t come?”
Marco laughed softly.
“Then your handsome mechanic dies.”
Finn frowned.
Norah stared at him.
Marco continued.
“Surprised?”
A shot sounded through the phone.
Finn’s expression changed.
Not because he was hit.
Because he recognized what Norah suddenly understood.
The man standing beside her wasn’t Finn.
Not the real one.
Marco whispered:
“Ask your friend what his real name is.”
The line went dead.
Norah slowly turned toward the mechanic.
Roman’s hand moved toward his gun.
“Who are you?”
Finn raised both hands.
May you like
And the easy smile finally disappeared.
“My name isn’t Finn Mercer.”
