Chapter 14 - THE SECOND WRONG NUMBER
Z
The photograph had been taken seven minutes earlier.
Nora stood inside her apartment staring at herself standing in Seattle Mercy's third-floor stairwell.
Someone had photographed her from above.
Then transmitted the image.
Then printed it.
Then placed it on her bed.
Impossible.
Unless the photograph had never physically traveled.
Marcus examined the printer beneath Nora's desk.
“This.”
Nora frowned.
“My printer?”
“Compromised remotely.”
Adrian's expression darkened.
Mercer hadn't needed to enter her apartment.
He had hijacked her wireless printer.
Nora stared at the photograph.
On the back was a message.
YOU KEEP OPENING THE WRONG DOORS.
She wanted to tear it apart.
Instead, she placed it carefully in an evidence bag.
“I'm learning.”
Adrian looked at her.
“You aren't staying here.”
“Agreed.”
His eyebrows rose.
“What?”
“I said agreed.”
“I heard you. I'm documenting the moment.”
She almost smiled.
Then her phone buzzed.
UNKNOWN NUMBER.
Again.
Nora and Adrian stared at it.
“This is becoming ridiculous,” she whispered.
She answered.
No voice.
Only a recording.
Her father.
Thomas Whitmore.
“Sweetheart, if you're hearing this—”
Nora's knees weakened.
It was not one of the tapes.
Different recording.
She put the call on speaker.
Thomas continued.
“—then Andrew found the false archive.”
Adrian's expression changed.
Nora whispered, “Andrew.”
Her father knew Mercer's new identity.
“He will assume I left the real evidence with Eleanor.”
A pause.
“I didn't.”
Nora looked toward Adrian.
“The library case is incomplete,” Thomas said.
Of course.
“The ledger that matters isn't financial.”
Static.
“It's names.”
Nora's pulse climbed.
“Judges. Police chiefs. Corporate officers. Federal agents. Men Andrew owns.”
Adrian whispered, “The network.”
Thomas continued.
“I separated it from everything else.”
The recording crackled.
“Nora, you already have it.”
She froze.
“What?”
Her father's voice continued.
“You've had it since you were sixteen.”
Nora searched her memory.
Sixteen.
Her birthday.
The funeral.
Her father's last months.
What had he given her?
Books.
A watch.
A drafting pencil.
Then she remembered.
A necklace.
Small silver pendant.
She touched her throat instinctively.
Gone.
She hadn't worn it in years.
“Where is it?” Adrian asked.
“My jewelry box.”
She ran to the bedroom.
Opened the drawer.
Jewelry box.
Empty compartment.
The necklace was gone.
“No.”
She searched.
Nothing.
“I had it here.”
Adrian entered.
“Who knew?”
“Lincoln.”
Silence.
Nora looked at him.
“He gave me jewelry all the time. He knew where I kept everything.”
Her phone rang.
This time the number was familiar.
Lincoln.
From federal detention.
Nora stared.
“How is he calling?”
Adrian took the phone.
“Answer.”
She did.
Lincoln sounded exhausted.
“Nora.”
“How did you get a phone?”
“I traded something.”
“For what?”
“Five minutes.”
Her throat tightened.
“Did you take my necklace?”
“Yes.”
She closed her eyes.
Of course.
“When?”
“Two years ago.”
“Why?”
“Dad told me to.”
“Where is it?”
“I gave it to him.”
“Richard doesn't have it.”
Silence.
Nora understood.
“Mercer.”
Lincoln whispered, “I didn't know who he was.”
“Where's the necklace?”
“Mercer took it from Dad.”
“Does he know what's inside?”
“No.”
“Inside?”
Lincoln exhaled.
“The pendant opens.”
Nora remembered trying as a teenager.
It had never moved.
“There's a micro-storage chip inside.”
Adrian closed his eyes.
There it was.
The real list.
Lincoln continued.
“Mercer can't open it without breaking the housing.”
“So?”
“So Thomas built a thermal fuse into it.”
Nora stared.
“My father built what?”
“He had help.”
“If Mercer cuts it open, the memory burns.”
Adrian said, “Then Mercer needs Nora.”
Lincoln went silent.
Nora's blood chilled.
“Why me?”
“Your fingerprint.”
She looked at her hand.
Lincoln continued.
“Your father encoded the clasp with a biometric strip.”
“That technology barely existed.”
“Cross Shipping had prototype cargo-security systems.”
Adrian whispered, “My father.”
Thomas and Vincent.
Working together.
Lincoln said, “Mercer needs your fingerprint to open it.”
Nora's stomach turned.
“So the last eleven days—”
“He's been steering you.”
Adrian's face darkened.
“Toward what?”
Lincoln's breathing changed.
“Nora, I need you to listen carefully.”
A distant voice shouted in the background.
“You don't have much time.”
“What?”
“Mercer has someone inside Adrian's organization.”
“We know.”
“No.”
Lincoln sounded panicked.
“Not Daniel.”
Adrian went still.
“Who?”
Lincoln whispered, “Marcus.”
Silence.
Nora looked through the bedroom door.
Marcus stood in the hallway.
Twenty feet away.
He was speaking quietly to one of Adrian's guards.
Adrian's eyes met Nora's.
Lincoln continued.
“His real name isn't Marcus Vale.”
Nora's heart began pounding.
“What is it?”
The line crackled.
“Marcus Alexander Cross.”
Nora stopped breathing.
Adrian looked as if someone had shot him.
“My cousin?”
Marcus turned toward them.
He saw their faces.
Everything changed.
The phone line went dead.
Marcus stared at Adrian.
Then at Nora.
Slowly, he reached inside his jacket.
Adrian drew first.
“Don't.”
The hallway froze.
Marcus's hand stopped.
Adrian's voice became almost unrecognizable.
“Tell me he's lying.”
Marcus looked at him.
Ten years of loyalty sat between them.
Wars.
Funerals.
Blood.
Trust.
Marcus slowly removed his hand.
Empty.
Then he said:
“My father is Andrew Mercer.”
Nora whispered, “Alexander Cross.”
Marcus nodded.
Adrian's face turned white.
“And you've known?”
“Since I was seventeen.”
Adrian's weapon did not lower.
“You worked beside me for twelve years.”
“Yes.”
“You protected me.”
“Yes.”
“You knew who killed Julian.”
Marcus's eyes filled.
“No.”
“Don't lie.”
“I didn't know until tonight.”
Adrian's voice cracked.
For the first time ever.
“Don't lie to me.”
Marcus whispered, “I swear.”
Then every light in the apartment went dark.
A window shattered.
Nora heard Adrian shout her name.
Hands grabbed her from behind.
A cloth covered her mouth.
May you like
And the last thing Nora heard before consciousness disappeared was Marcus screaming:
“HE'S TAKING HER.”
