Chapter 7
The warehouse was cold.
It smelled like rust and old oil and rain.
Sunlight streamed through cracks in the corrugated metal walls, making long, thin stripes across the concrete floor.
I stood in the middle of the empty space.
The bag of money was at my feet.
The wire was heavy against my chest.
I heard footsteps.
Two men walked in.
Rico was in front.
He was short, stocky, with a shaved head and a tattoo of a snake coiled around his neck. His eyes were small, black, and cold.
Behind him was a bigger guy, at least six and a half feet tall, with arms like tree trunks. He held a gun in his hand, loose at his side.
Rico stopped ten feet away from me.
He smiled.
It wasn’t a nice smile.
“You must be Sarah,” he said. His voice was gravelly, like he smoked a pack of cigarettes a day. “Ethan’s little sister. He told me a lot about you. Said you were the smart one. The brave one.”
I didn’t say anything.
I just stared at him.
“Where is he?” Rico said. “Too scared to come himself? Sends his sister to do his dirty work?”
“He’s not here,” I said. My voice was steadier than I felt. “I brought the money. Five hundred thousand dollars. It’s all here. Now leave us alone. Leave my family alone.”
Rico laughed.
It was a harsh, barking sound.
“Five hundred thousand?” he said. “Oh, honey. That’s barely the interest. Your brother owes me two hundred thousand principal. Plus three years of interest. Plus the cost of looking for his dead ass for three years. That comes to… let’s see. One point two million dollars.”
My blood ran cold.
“That’s not what we agreed,” I said.
“Agreed?” He laughed again. “I don’t make agreements with dead men. Or their sisters. You bring me the rest of the money in three days. Or I take the girl. The pretty little seven-year-old. I know a lot of rich men who’d pay good money for a kid like that. And then I’ll kill your brother. And your husband. And your mommy. And then I’ll kill you. Slowly. Do we understand each other?”
I took a deep breath.
This was it.
I had to keep him talking.
“Why?” I said. “Why go to all this trouble? You’ve killed people before, haven’t you? The guy in the bar last year. The two guys who owed you money and couldn’t pay. You had them dumped in the lake. Why not just kill us and take the money?”
Rico smiled.
He took a step closer.
“Because I like to make people suffer,” he said. “Ethan thought he could outsmart me. Faked his own death. Hid for three years. Made me look like a fool. No one makes me look like a fool. I want him to watch while I take everything he loves. I want him to beg me to kill him before I’m done. And as for the cops?” He laughed. “Half of them work for me. The other half are too scared to do anything. I own this town, sweetheart. No one can touch me.”
Perfect.
He’d admitted to the murders.
To the cops on his payroll.
To owning the town.
It was all on tape.
“Okay,” I said. “I’ll get you the money. Just give me a week. Please. Don’t hurt my family.”
Rico smiled.
He reached out and touched my cheek.
His hand was cold.
“Now that’s a good girl,” he said. “One week. And if you don’t have my money? I’ll send you the girl’s first finger in the mail. Understand?”
I flinched.
I pulled back.
“Understand,” I said.
I leaned down to pick up the bag.
That’s when the big guy behind Rico moved.
He stepped forward.
He grabbed my arm.
His hand was like a vice.
“Wait,” he said. “She’s wearing a wire.”
My heart stopped.
Rico’s smile vanished.
His face went dark.
He reached for my shirt.
“Blueberry!” I screamed.
The sound of the warehouse doors bursting open echoed off the walls.
“FBI! GET DOWN! GET DOWN NOW!”
Rico spun around.
The big guy let go of my arm. He reached for his gun.
Shots rang out.
Loud. Deafening.
I threw myself to the floor.
I covered my head with my arms.
More shots. Yelling. The sound of people running, of bodies hitting the concrete.
Then silence.
“Sarah!”
Daniel’s voice.
I looked up.
He was running toward me, his gun drawn, his face white.
He knelt beside me.
“Are you okay? Did he hurt you?”
He pulled me into his arms.
I was shaking so bad I could barely speak.
“I’m okay,” I said. “I’m okay. He didn’t hurt me.”
I looked over his shoulder.
Rico was on the floor, face down, hands cuffed behind his back. The big guy was next to him, also cuffed, blood running from a cut on his forehead.
A dozen FBI agents were moving around the warehouse, securing the scene.
Detective Alvarez walked over.
She held up a small recorder.
“We got it all,” she said. A small smile tugged at the corner of her mouth. “Every word. Murders. Extortion. Cops on the payroll. This is over. All of it.”
I closed my eyes.
I let out a breath I felt like I’d been holding for three years.
It was over.
The bad men were going to jail.
We were safe.
Daniel helped me stand up.
He held me tight.
I buried my face in his chest.
I cried.
Happy tears. Relieved tears. Tears for all the fear, all the pain, all the lies of the last three years.
It was over.
May you like
We could go home.
We could be a family again.
