Chapter 2 - The Watch in the Drawer
Clara locked her apartment door behind her.
She went directly to the kitchen.
The watch was still there.
She picked it up carefully.
Platinum case. Dark face. Complicated mechanical movement.
Not something a random wounded man bought at a mall.
Her phone rang.
HENDERSON.
Clara considered ignoring it.
Then answered.
“What?”
Her landlord’s voice exploded through the speaker.
“Three weeks, Hayes.”
“I know.”
“Friday morning, I change the locks.”
“I’ll have something for you.”
“You said that last week.”
“I know.”
“You running that illegal clinic again?”
Clara went still.
“Careful, Henderson.”
“I want my rent.”
“And I want functioning heat. Apparently we’re both disappointed.”
She hung up.
Someone knocked.
Clara stared at the door.
Three measured knocks.
Not desperate.
Not police.
She opened it two inches with the chain secured.
A young man stood outside in an expensive black suit.
“Dr. Hayes?”
“No.”
He blinked.
“I was told Clara Hayes lives here.”
“She does. The doctor doesn’t.”
“My name is Daniel Mercer.”
“Congratulations.”
“I work for Mr. Kaine.”
Clara closed her eyes.
Of course he did.
She removed the chain.
Daniel entered alone.
He looked around at the battered cabinets, medical equipment, cracked ceiling, and cheap furniture.
“Where is he?”
“Not here.”
Daniel’s expression changed.
“He came here?”
“At three fourteen.”
“Was he conscious?”
“Yes.”
“How badly injured?”
“Bad enough to need me. Not bad enough to die.”
Daniel released a breath.
“You saved his life.”
“No. I stitched him up.”
“He lost contact with us after the docks.”
“That sounds like an internal staffing issue.”
Daniel almost smiled.
“He said you’d be difficult.”
“You spoke to him?”
“Twenty minutes ago.”
Clara folded her arms.
“Then why are you here?”
“He wants his watch.”
She opened the silverware drawer and tossed it to him.
Daniel nearly fumbled it.
His eyes widened.
“You just threw a three-hundred-thousand-dollar watch.”
“It survived Victor Kaine. It can survive me.”
Daniel stared at her.
“You knew what this was worth?”
“Approximately.”
“And you kept it in a drawer?”
“Under Chinese menus.”
“Why didn’t you sell it?”
“Because it wasn’t mine.”
Daniel studied her as if she had begun speaking another language.
Then he placed an envelope on the counter.
Clara opened it.
Cash.
A lot of cash.
“No.”
“Mr. Kaine asked—”
“I already charged him.”
“This isn’t payment.”
“Then what is it?”
“Gratitude.”
“Take it.”
Daniel hesitated.
“Nobody refuses Victor Kaine.”
“I did last night.”
“Yes. Apparently that’s why I’m standing here.”
Clara pushed the envelope into his chest.
“Tell him he needs his dressing changed tomorrow.”
Daniel stared at her.
“You want Victor Kaine to come back here?”
“I want my patient to avoid an infection.”
“He has private physicians.”
“Then they can change it.”
She opened the door.
Daniel stepped into the hallway.
“Dr. Hayes?”
“What?”
“People have spent their entire lives trying to get Victor Kaine to owe them something.”
Clara leaned against the doorway.
“I spent my entire adult life learning that debts usually belong to the person collecting them.”
Daniel nodded slowly.
“You really don’t know what you just did.”
“No.”
May you like
Clara closed the door.
“But I have a feeling I’m about to find out.”
