Chapter 9 - The Betrayal in the Archives
The silence in the command trailer stretched until the hum of the fluorescent lights sounded deafening.
Mia looked between the two men.
Damon’s jaw was clenched so hard the muscles in his cheek twitched with violent rhythm.
Captain William Cross leaned against the metal table, staring at the floor with hollow, devastated eyes.
“Julian,” Damon whispered, the name tasting like poison on his tongue.
“My father’s own brother.”
“He sat in my dining room three nights ago and cried about how much he missed Evan’s laughter.”
Mia stepped forward, her voice trembling but fierce.
“We have to go to the train station right now.”
“We get the files from locker forty-four before Julian’s people find out we have the key.”
“Julian already knows,” Cross said suddenly, his voice cracking with old age and dread.
Damon turned on the retired captain, his eyes blazing.
“How could he know, William?”
Cross did not look at Damon.
He looked down at his own weathered, spotted hands.
“Because when you ordered the estate lockdown two hours ago, Julian was still inside the east wing residence.”
“He has his own security detail stationed at the main gates.”
“And Marcus Vale...”
Cross paused, swallowing hard.
“Marcus Vale never does anything without securing a secondary payout.”
“Vale came to the estate tonight to shake down Julian, not you, Damon.”
“Vale used Mia’s arrival as leverage to demand more money from your uncle.”
Damon drew his Glock from his holster, pointing the barrel straight at William Cross’s chest.
Mia gasped, stepping between the gun and the old captain.
“Damon, stop!” Mia screamed.
“Get out of the way, Mia!” Damon roared, his composure shattering completely.
“William knew!”
“Look at his face!”
“He knew Julian was dirty twenty years ago, and he knew Julian was behind Evan’s disappearance!”
Cross did not flinch from the gun barrel.
He met Damon’s wild, furious eyes with total surrender.
“I didn't know Julian was behind Evan’s death, Damon,” Cross said quietly.
“I swear that on the graves of my children.”
“But twenty years ago... when Frank Collins was murdered on the highway...”
Cross’s eyes filled with bitter tears.
“It was Julian Marino who paid off the county traffic investigators to rule it an accident.”
“Julian came to my office with a briefcase containing two hundred thousand dollars in cash.”
“My youngest daughter was dying of leukemia in St. Jude’s hospital.”
“Her experimental treatments were not covered by city police insurance.”
“Julian paid for her medical bills.”
“And in return, I buried the witness statements regarding the cement truck that crushed Frank Collins’s vehicle.”
Mia felt as though the floor had dropped out from beneath her feet.
She stared at the old captain, the man she had viewed as her protector just an hour earlier.
“You let my father’s murderers walk free for money?” Mia whispered, her voice breaking into pieces.
“I sold my soul to buy my daughter eighteen more months of life, Mia,” Cross wept, tears tracking through the deep wrinkles of his face.
“And every single day for the past twenty years, I have lived in the torment of that sin.”
“When Evan came to me six months ago asking about your father’s old records, I tried to warn him.”
“I told him to leave the past buried.”
“I didn't know Julian had already marked him for death.”
Damon’s finger tightened on the trigger.
“You let a snake live in my family garden for twenty years, William.”
“You helped him murder Frank Collins, and you helped him frame my father.”
“Damon, don't!” Mia shouted, grabbing Damon’s wrist and forcing the weapon toward the ceiling.
“If you kill him right now, you are no better than Julian!”
“We need to find Evan!”
“The letter from Marcus Vale was dated two weeks ago!”
“Evan might still be alive!”
“If you start shooting each other over twenty-year-old sins, my baby will never have a father!”
Damon stared into Mia’s fierce, tear-filled eyes.
His chest rose and fell in ragged heaves.
Slowly, agonizingly, Damon lowered the hammer of the firearm and holstered the weapon.
“If Evan is dead, William,” Damon whispered coldly, “you will not live to see the sunrise.”
Before Cross could answer, the security radio on the wall crackled to life with panicked static.
“Mr. Marino! Urgent report from the estate perimeter!”
Damon snatched the radio microphone.
“Speak!”
“Marcus Vale is dead, sir!” the security guard reported, breathless and panicked.
“His body was just found in the lower courtyard behind the guest suites.”
“Two gunshots to the back of the head.”
“And Julian Marino’s private security detail just evacuated the grounds in three black Suburbans.”
“They took the northern service road toward downtown!”
Damon slammed the radio onto the metal counter.
“Julian tied up the loose end.”
“He executed Vale to keep him quiet.”
“And now he is heading for the central railway terminal to destroy whatever is inside locker forty-four.”
May you like
Mia grabbed Evan’s brass key from her coat pocket, squeezing the cold metal until it cut into her palm.
“Then we get there first.”
