Chapter 4 - The Black SUV Across the Street
Alex spent the next three nights proving herself wrong.
By Thursday evening, she had failed.
The company on the transfer existed only on paper.
Briar Holdings.
Registered to a mailbox in Delaware.
No employees.
No operating address.
No legitimate revenue.
Yet money from three Russo-controlled businesses had been flowing into it every month.
Sometimes forty thousand.
Sometimes two hundred thousand.
Once nearly a million.
The transactions were disguised as equipment leasing, consulting services, freight insurance, and property maintenance.
They were clever.
Very clever.
But they were not perfect.
Alex found the mistake at 2:11 Friday morning.
Green ink covered three pages spread across her kitchen table.
Someone had reused an invoice number.
One tiny duplication.
That duplication connected Briar Holdings to a construction subsidiary called North Avenue Development.
And North Avenue’s financial approvals required two signatures.
One belonged to Dominic Russo.
The other belonged to Victor Hale.
Dominic’s oldest adviser.
Alex sat back slowly.
She knew Victor.
He had accompanied Dominic to Marlow’s several times.
Silver hair.
Perfect suits.
Quiet voice.
He looked more like a university dean than a man connected to organized crime.
Dominic once described him as the closest thing he had to an uncle.
Alex looked at the transfer again.
“Wonderful.”
Her phone rang.
Unknown number.
She froze.
Then remembered Dominic had her number now.
She answered.
“Hello?”
“Turn off your kitchen light.”
Dominic.
Alex looked toward the window.
“What?”
“Now.”
Something in his voice made her obey.
Darkness filled the kitchen.
“Stay away from the glass.”
Her pulse jumped.
“Dominic, what’s happening?”
“Black SUV across the street.”
Alex’s stomach dropped.
Slowly she moved into the hallway.
“How do you know?”
“Because I’m inside it.”
Silence.
“You’re what?”
“Don’t start.”
“You are parked outside my apartment?”
“Yes.”
“You promised to stay away.”
“I promised not to come into the diner.”
“That is an offensively technical interpretation.”
“Alex.”
She heard tension beneath his words.
“What?”
“There’s another car behind me.”
She stopped breathing.
“Gray sedan?”
“Yes.”
The same car.
“Dominic—”
“Go into the bedroom.”
“Why?”
“Because I need you away from the windows.”
She started toward the bedroom, then stopped.
“Wait.”
“What?”
“The documents.”
“What documents?”
Alex looked toward the kitchen table.
The Briar Holdings paperwork.
“I found something.”
Dominic went silent.
“What?”
“Money.”
“That narrows it down.”
“Somebody’s been stealing from you.”
Another silence.
“How much?”
“Potentially millions.”
“Who?”
“I don’t know.”
That was not entirely true.
She suspected.
But suspicion was not evidence.
“Alex.”
“I need more time.”
“Where did you get the records?”
“Someone left them at the diner.”
Dominic cursed.
“You should have called me.”
“You told me to stay away.”
“I told you I would stay away.”
“Semantics.”
“Alex, listen carefully. Whoever gave you those papers wanted you to find something.”
“I know.”
“Which means this isn’t just theft.”
His voice became colder.
“It’s a message.”
Headlights moved across her ceiling.
Alex crouched instinctively.
Outside, tires squealed.
“What was that?”
“Stay down.”
The phone disconnected.
“Dominic?”
No answer.
Alex crawled toward the window despite every instruction he had given her.
She lifted the curtain one inch.
Dominic’s SUV remained parked across the street.
The gray sedan was gone.
A man stood beside Dominic’s vehicle.
Dominic.
No coat.
Rain soaking his black shirt.
Marco beside him.
They stared toward the intersection.
Then Dominic looked up.
Straight at her window.
Alex dropped the curtain.
Her phone buzzed.
TURN THE LIGHT BACK ON.
She stared at the message.
Another followed.
THEY NEED TO THINK NOTHING CHANGED.
Alex slowly returned to the kitchen.
She turned on the lamp.
From across the street, Dominic watched the window glow.
For the next hour, he stayed there.
Alex pretended to work.
He pretended he was not watching.
At 3:20 a.m., the SUV finally drove away.
The following afternoon Dominic arrived at Marlow’s before lunch.
No entourage.
No back booth.
He walked straight into the kitchen.
Bobby nearly dropped a tray.
“We need to talk,” Dominic said.
Alex looked at him.
“About the money?”
“About why somebody wants you involved.”
They used Bobby’s office.
Dominic closed the door.
Alex showed him everything.
His face remained unreadable until she mentioned Victor Hale.
Then his eyes changed.
“No.”
“I said I don’t know.”
“You were thinking it.”
“The approvals require his signature.”
“And mine.”
“Your electronic authorization.”
Dominic understood immediately.
“Someone could duplicate it.”
“Exactly.”
“But Victor’s?”
“Maybe duplicated. Maybe legitimate.”
“No.”
The certainty in his voice was absolute.
Alex watched him.
“You trust him.”
“He raised me after my father died.”
That was the first personal fact Dominic had ever volunteered.
“How old were you?”
“Seventeen.”
Alex looked at the documents.
“Then we verify before accusing anybody.”
Dominic paced once across the tiny room.
“You’re done.”
“With what?”
“This.”
“No.”
His head snapped toward her.
“You found the trail. I’ll handle it.”
“You won’t understand half the trail.”
“I have accountants.”
“One of them missed millions of dollars.”
“Then I’ll get better accountants.”
Alex stood.
“And what happens to me?”
“You go back to your life.”
“My life already has threatening photographs and surveillance cars.”
Dominic’s jaw tightened.
“I’ll fix that.”
“You can’t unshow me this.”
“Alex.”
“No.”
She pointed toward the papers.
“If somebody chose me because they thought I’d uncover this, then I want to know why.”
Dominic stared at her.
“I’m trying to keep you alive.”
“And I’m trying not to live scared.”
“That’s not the same thing.”
“It is to me.”
For several seconds neither moved.
Then Dominic said, “There’s something else.”
He reached inside his coat.
Placed another photograph on the desk.
Alex’s apartment building.
Taken the previous night.
A circle around her window.
On the back, one sentence.
SHE MAKES YOU CARELESS.
Alex read it twice.
Dominic’s voice was barely audible.
“They’re not threatening you anymore.”
She looked up.
“They’re threatening me with you.”
The distinction was worse.
May you like
Much worse.
And somewhere in the city, somebody had just discovered the one weakness Dominic Russo had spent his entire adult life making sure he never possessed.
