Chapter 8
I didn’t move.
Didn’t say anything.
Just kept looking at the window.
The reflection was clear enough.
A man.
Tall.
Dark hair.
Blue suit.
Standing perfectly still.
Ethan.
Sarah saw my expression change.
She started to turn.
“Don’t,” I said quietly. “He’s outside the door. Listening.”
Her hand drifted toward her purse.
Where she kept her gun.
Licensed.
Concealed.
I’d forgotten she had it.
“On my count,” she whispered. “Three. Two. One.”
She moved.
Fast.
To the door.
Threw it open.
The hallway was empty.
The elevator doors were closing.
I ran after them.
Got there just in time to see the floor indicator drop from fourteen to thirteen.
Twelve.
Eleven.
“Stairs!” Sarah yelled.
We ran to the stairwell.
Took the steps two at a time.
Fourteen flights.
My lungs burned.
My legs screamed.
We burst out onto the ground floor.
The doorman looked up, startled.
“Where did he go?” I gasped. “The man from fourteen. Which way?”
The doorman pointed toward the street.
“Just got into a black SUV. Drove toward Storrow Drive.”
We ran outside.
The SUV was already three blocks away.
Turning onto Storrow.
Gone.
Sarah called Marquez.
Gave her the plate number she’d memorized from the building’s visitor log.
“Ethan Ward is still in Boston,” she told the detective. “He was just at his apartment. He’s driving a black Cadillac Escalade. Plate number three-seven-four, Alpha, Tango, Kilo. He’s armed and extremely dangerous. Put out an APB.”
We got back in our car.
“Where would he go?” I said. “His mother is on the run. His girlfriend is on the run. The money is gone—wait. Is it gone?”
Sarah frowned.
“What do you mean?”
“Ethan wrote in his journal that he rerouted the money to new accounts in his name. But what if that was part of the plant too? What if the money is still here? In Boston. In an account he can access anytime.”
“Then he’s not running,” Sarah realized. “He’s hiding. Waiting for the heat to die down. And then he’ll make his move for the insurance money.”
“Which requires my mother to be dead.”
We both looked at each other.
The hospital.
We raced back.
The fourth floor was quiet when we arrived.
Day shift nurses making their rounds.
Doctors doing morning checks.
Everything seemed normal.
I pushed open my mother’s door.
And stopped.
A man was standing beside her bed.
His back was to us.
He was adjusting her IV line.
“Hey!” I yelled.
He spun around.
It was Ethan.
He didn’t look surprised.
He smiled.
“Daniel. Sarah. So good of you to join us.”
Sarah had her gun out.
Aimed directly at his chest.
“Step away from her, Ethan. Now.”
He didn’t move.
“Or what? You’ll shoot me? In a hospital room? With your mother-in-law lying ten feet away? I don’t think so, Sarah. You’re smarter than that.”
He nodded toward the IV.
“You might want to be careful with that trigger. One twitch, and I push this plunger all the way down. Potassium chloride. Very fast. Very painful. And completely untraceable if the doctor writes it off as a heart attack.”
My mother was awake.
Her eyes were wide with terror.
But she couldn’t speak.
Ethan had taped her mouth shut.
“Let her go, Ethan.” My voice was shaking. “It’s over. We have everything. The journal. The USB drive. Your father is talking. The nurse you hired is singing like a bird. There’s nowhere left for you to run.”
He laughed.
A cold, sharp sound.
“You think that matters? You think I care about any of that? I have four million dollars in accounts no one will ever find. I have another fifty million coming the second this woman flatlines. And I have friends in very high places who will make sure I never spend a day in prison. You have nothing, Daniel. Nothing but a stack of papers a good lawyer will throw out before lunch.”
He leaned closer to my mother.
“Your mother changed the will thirty years ago, you know. Cut my mother out of everything. Because she was jealous. Because Victoria was prettier. Smarter. More loved by their father. So Evelyn stole what was rightfully hers. And my mother spent thirty years planning her revenge. But revenge is for amateurs. Professionals go for the profit. That’s the difference between me and my mother. She wanted to make Evelyn suffer. I just want her money.”
He looked at me.
“And I’m going to get it. One way or another.”
The door burst open.
Two police officers.
Marquez right behind them.
All with guns drawn.
“Ethan Ward. Put your hands up. Now.”
Ethan didn’t flinch.
He kept one hand on the IV plunger.
“Detective Marquez. So good of you to join the party. I’m afraid we’re at a bit of an impasse. If I push this, Evelyn dies. If your officers shoot me, my last act will be to push it. Either way, she doesn’t leave this room alive.”
Marquez’s voice was steady.
“What do you want, Ethan?”
“A helicopter. On the roof. Fueled and ready. And safe passage to the airport. And I want my mother and Megan released and brought to me within twenty-four hours. Otherwise, Evelyn Hale dies in the next ten seconds.”
Marquez hesitated.
“Five. Four. Three.”
“Okay!” Marquez said. “Okay. We’ll get the helicopter. Just step away from the IV.”
Ethan smiled.
“Wise choice, Detective.”
He slowly removed his hand from the plunger.
But he kept it close.
“Now. Everyone lower their guns. Slowly. And Daniel. You come here. You’re going to be my insurance policy until the helicopter arrives.”
I looked at Sarah.
She shook her head almost imperceptibly.
But I stepped forward anyway.
“Let my mother go. I’ll go with you.”
Ethan grabbed my arm.
Pushed me between himself and the police.
“Smart man. Now. We walk up to the roof. Together. Anyone follows us from the stairwell, anyone tries anything clever, and I snap Daniel’s neck before you can get a shot off. Do we understand each other?”
Marquez nodded.
“We understand.”
Ethan pulled me backward out of the room.
The police parted to let us through.
I could feel Sarah’s eyes on my back.
Ethan pushed me into the stairwell.
Started climbing.
“Relax, Daniel,” he said as we climbed. “I’m not going to kill you. Not yet. You’re worth more to me alive. For now.”
We reached the roof.
The wind was strong.
The sun was fully up now.
Boston spread out beneath us.
No helicopter.
“Where is it?” Ethan demanded.
“On its way.”
He pushed me toward the edge of the roof.
Twelve stories down.
Traffic moving like tiny ants on Storrow Drive.
“You know, Daniel,” he said conversationally. “We could have been partners. You’re smart. You’re driven. We could have made billions together. But you had to go and be the hero. Save the family. All that nonsense.”
He pulled a gun from his waistband.
May you like
Pressed it to the back of my head.
“Too bad.”
