Chapter 2 - The Circle of Trust
Natalie kept the accelerator pinned as the sedan tore through the curving two-lane mountain pass.
Behind them, the dark SUV held its menacing three-car distance, refusing to drop back or close in for a collision.
"They aren't trying to pit us," Natalie observed, her eyes darting between the slick road and the mirror.
"If they wanted to run us into the ravine, they would have rammed our bumper at the crest of the hill."
Rose sat back into the cushions, her expression unreadable under the passing amber glow of distant farm lights.
"They need me breathing," Rose remarked calmly.
Natalie glanced back for a fraction of a second.
"Why would they want you alive if they already have your safe house surrounded?"
"Because dead women cannot sign legal documents," Rose answered.
Damon’s voice crackled through the car's hands-free receiver.
"Grandma, listen to me," Damon urged, the sound of car doors slamming shut audible on his end of the line.
"I am mobilizing three response units from the downtown warehouse."
"We will meet you at the industrial terminal by the river."
Rose raised her hand, as if Damon were standing right in front of her.
"Who planned tonight's evacuation route, Damon?" Rose asked bluntly.
Damon went completely silent on the other end of the line.
The silence stretched long enough for the sedan's windshield wipers to complete six rhythmic sweeps.
"Only three people were in the library when we selected that cabin," Damon admitted reluctantly.
"You, myself, and Frank."
Rose let out a short, bitter chuckle that sent a shiver down Natalie’s spine.
"Frank Marino has been drowning in debt at the offshore casinos for seven months," Rose stated.
"I refused his third request to liquidate the family reserve accounts last Thursday."
"Do not send Frank's men to meet us, Damon."
"If you do, you will be sending our executioners."
"Grandma, Frank is family," Damon protested, though the conviction in his voice sounded hollow.
"Frank is my brother-in-law's son, which makes him blood, not family," Rose corrected sharply.
"Blood shares your veins; family shares your burdens."
"Frank has only ever shared his gambling receipts."
Natalie checked the rearview mirror again as headlights flared brightly behind them.
A second vehicle had slipped onto the highway from an unpaved logging trail.
It was a grey sedan with tinted windows, sliding directly into formation beside the trailing SUV.
"We have company," Natalie reported, her pulse spiking.
"Two cars now."
"They're boxing us in from the rear."
Damon cursed loudly over the car speakers.
"Natalie, do you know the commercial strip on Route 9?" Damon asked.
"The one with the all-night truck stops and the shopping plazas?" Natalie asked.
"Yes," Damon replied.
"Head straight there."
"There are state surveillance cameras on every intersection and too many civilian witnesses."
"They won't dare fire a shot in front of fifty truckers."
Natalie pulled the steering wheel hard to the right, throwing the car onto a cloverleaf ramp toward the interstate.
The two pursuers followed without hesitation, their high beams slicing through the deluge.
"Rose," Natalie said softly as they straightened out on the wider highway.
"What did you mean back there about signing documents?"
Rose looked out at the blurred silhouettes of telephone poles rushing past into the dark.
"Thirty-five years ago, my late husband Salvatore established the Marino Land Trust," Rose explained.
"He put the core properties into that trust to protect them from federal asset forfeiture."
"When Salvatore passed away, full authority over the family businesses transferred to Damon."
"Except for that single trust."
"Salvatore made me the sole executing trustee until the day of my death."
"Damon cannot sell those original properties."
"Frank cannot borrow against them."
"And no judge in this country can transfer the titles without my notarized signature."
Natalie gripped the steering wheel tighter.
"Is the safe house part of that trust?"
"No," Rose said, her voice dropping to a near-whisper.
"The safe house is just wood and stone."
"The trust owns the old rail yard and the original brick warehouse downtown."
Natalie frowned, trying to piece together the fragments of family lore she had overheard while dusting the library shelves.
"The old rail yard is abandoned," Natalie noted.
"The city condemned it ten years ago."
"Why would anyone risk an armed kidnapping over an empty lot filled with rusted shipping containers?"
Rose looked directly into the camera lens mounted on the rearview mirror.
"Because Salvatore didn't leave empty containers down there, Natalie."
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"He dug forty feet beneath the concrete foundation before he laid the first brick."
"And what he buried under that floor has the power to destroy every politician and badge in this state."
