Emily slapped Adrian.
The sound cracked through the back of the sedan.
Leo, seated in front, turned sharply.
Adrian lifted one hand.
“Keep driving.”
Emily stared at her own palm as if she had not meant to do it.
Maybe she hadn’t.
Three years of grief had moved faster than thought.
“You knew him?”
Adrian touched his jaw once.
“Yes.”
“You knew him and you just sat there asking me questions?”
“I didn’t know who you were.”
“You knew his name.”
“I knew Danny Brennan.”
“And he died because of you.”
The accusation landed between them.
Adrian did not defend himself.
That frightened Emily more than denial would have.
“Take me back.”
“No.”
“Take me back now.”
“Somebody carrying your brother’s photograph just helped coordinate an attempt against me.”
“I don’t care.”
“Yes, you do.”
“I cared about Danny. Danny is dead.”
“And somebody connected to his death just found you.”
Emily looked toward the dark window.
Her reflection stared back.
For three years she had changed addresses, jobs, names and routines.
She had slept with a chair beneath her doorknob.
She never posted photographs.
Never stayed in relationships long enough to explain why she disappeared every time an unfamiliar car parked outside.
And now a stranger had carried her brother’s picture into her diner.
Not coincidence.
Not after three years.
“Where are you taking me?”
“A safe place.”
“I don’t want your safe place.”
“You may not have another one.”
Twenty minutes later, the sedan entered an underground garage beneath a restored warehouse overlooking the East River.
Emily expected gold fixtures and armed men.
Instead Adrian’s residence looked almost austere.
Concrete.
Dark wood.
Tall windows.
Quiet rooms.
The kind of place designed by someone who valued control more than comfort.
Adrian led her into an office.
“Coffee?”
“I work in a diner. I never want to see coffee again.”
He poured two glasses of water.
She did not touch hers.
“Tell me about Danny.”
Adrian remained standing for a moment.
Then he opened a locked cabinet.
From it, he removed a worn brown envelope.
He placed it on the desk.
Emily recognized her brother’s handwriting immediately.
Her knees weakened.
On the front were two words.
A. Mercer.
She touched the envelope.
“You kept this?”
“For three years.”
“What is it?”
“A warning.”
“About what?”
Adrian sat across from her.
“Someone inside my organization was selling information.”
Emily almost laughed bitterly.
“Danny was involved with the mafia?”
“He wasn’t one of my people.”
“Then what was he doing?”
“Driving trucks.”
Emily frowned.
Danny had told their mother he worked in logistics.
He had been vague about the company.
Adrian continued.
“One of our legitimate companies used a transportation contractor in Philadelphia. Danny drove for them. He noticed that certain shipments were being redirected through warehouses they weren’t supposed to visit.”
“He told you?”
“Eventually.”
“Why would he tell you?”
“Because the shipments weren’t drugs or weapons.”
Emily waited.
“Medical supplies,” Adrian said. “Expensive ones. Someone was stealing them, reselling them, and using my company paperwork to hide it.”
Emily’s anger faltered.
“Danny discovered it?”
“He discovered the routes. Then he discovered the man organizing them.”
“Who?”
“I never knew.”
“You expect me to believe that?”
“No.”
Adrian pushed the envelope toward her.
“Read.”
Inside was a photocopy of a handwritten note.
Emily recognized Danny’s rushed handwriting.
Mercer—
Someone close to you is doing this. I heard them talking. They’re using the North River warehouse Thursday night. If you show up, don’t come through the main entrance.
I’m sorry I got involved. I thought I could fix it.
D.B.
Emily stared at the final line.
I thought I could fix it.
The same words she had heard him say the night he disappeared.
Her throat tightened.
“You were there.”
“Yes.”
“At the warehouse.”
“Yes.”
“Did you see him die?”
Adrian looked away for the first time.
“No.”
“What happened?”
“Danny arranged to meet me nearby. He never arrived.”
Emily’s fingers tightened around the paper.
“Then how did he save you?”
“Because I followed his warning. I entered through the south loading dock instead of the main entrance.”
Adrian paused.
“Minutes later, the front entrance exploded.”
Emily stared at him.
“Danny knew?”
“He knew something was going to happen.”
“Then why didn’t he run?”
“I’ve asked myself that question every day for three years.”
Emily felt tears burn her eyes but refused to let them fall.
“You said he died saving your life.”
“He warned me. Someone killed him before he could tell me the rest.”
“And you never found out who?”
“No.”
“You’re Adrian Mercer.”
His expression hardened slightly.
“Yes.”
“People are terrified of you. Marcus nearly dropped a plate when he realized who you were. You have men following you around Brooklyn. And you’re telling me you couldn’t find one murderer?”
Adrian absorbed the insult.
“That should tell you something about the murderer.”
Emily went still.
“They were close to you.”
“Yes.”
“How close?”
“I don’t know.”
“You still don’t know?”
“Until tonight, I believed the traitor had gone dormant.”
Emily looked at Danny’s note.
“Tonight changed that.”
“Yes.”
She remembered the fake waitress.
The man outside.
The countdown.
“Why now?”
Adrian’s gaze settled on her.
“That is what I need to know.”
She stood.
“You mean you think this is about me.”
“I think someone recognized you.”
“Nobody knows me here.”
“Someone does.”
Emily walked toward the window.
Below, the East River reflected Manhattan’s lights.
“I saw something that night.”
Adrian’s voice sharpened.
“What?”
She closed her eyes.
Philadelphia.
Cold air.
Delivery trucks.
Danny arguing.
“I didn’t see faces clearly.”
“Tell me.”
“I followed Danny because he’d been acting strange for weeks. He kept checking the window. Wouldn’t answer calls around me. Our mother thought he was gambling again.”
“Was he?”
“No.”
Emily folded her arms tightly.
“I followed him to the warehouse. He met two men outside. One was tall. Gray coat. The other stayed near a black SUV.”
“What did you hear?”
“Danny said, ‘I already sent it.’ One of the men told him he had no idea what he had done.”
Adrian leaned forward.
“Anything else?”
“Yes.”
Emily’s breathing became shallow.
“The man in the gray coat said, ‘Mercer won’t survive Thursday.’”
Adrian went very still.
“And Danny said?”
“He said, ‘Then you’d better hope he listens to me.’”
Silence.
Emily looked at him.
“I ran. I was scared. I thought Danny would come home.”
“You were twenty-two.”
“I was a coward.”
“No.”
“Don’t.”
“Emily—”
“Don’t make me feel better.”
“I’m not.”
His voice was firm.
“I’m telling you what happened. You were a young woman who overheard men planning murder. Running was sensible.”
“My brother didn’t run.”
“And your brother died.”
That stopped her.
Adrian rose.
“I admired Danny. But I will not romanticize what happened to him.”
Emily’s eyes flashed.
“You don’t get to talk about him.”
“I may be the only living person besides you who knows why he died.”
A knock interrupted them.
Leo entered carrying a sealed plastic evidence pouch.
“Phone from the guy we picked up.”
Adrian looked at him.
“Anything?”
“Burner. Mostly wiped.”
“Mostly?”
“One message was still cached.”
Leo handed him the phone.
Adrian read.
His jaw tightened.
Emily stepped closer.
“What does it say?”
Adrian hesitated.
Then showed her.
BRENNAN GIRL CONFIRMED. DO NOT LOSE HER AGAIN.
Emily felt the room disappear.
Not Rivers.
Not Randall.
Not Richards.
Brennan.
“They know.”
“Yes.”
“They’ve known?”
“Apparently they lost track of you.”
“For three years.”
“Until tonight.”
Emily struggled to breathe.
Adrian turned toward Leo.
“Get two people to her apartment.”
“No.”
Both men looked at her.
Emily grabbed her coat.
“I’m going.”
Adrian stepped in front of her.
“If they know your identity—”
“My apartment has everything I have left of Danny.”
“What?”
“Photographs. His letters. My mother’s things.”
“Those can be replaced.”
“No, they can’t.”
Adrian stared at her.
Then he turned to Leo.
“Car.”
The apartment door was open when they arrived.
Emily ran up the stairs before Adrian could stop her.
“Emily!”
She entered.
The place had been torn apart.
Couch cushions cut.
Drawers emptied.
Mattress overturned.
Kitchen cabinets open.
Her photographs were scattered across the floor.
Emily dropped to her knees.
“No.”
She crawled toward the bedroom closet.
Behind a loose panel was a small metal box.
Gone.
Adrian entered behind her.
“What was inside?”
Emily stared at the empty space.
“Danny’s notebook.”
“What notebook?”
“He gave it to me three days before he died.”
Adrian crouched beside her.
“What was in it?”
“I never knew.”
“You never read it?”
“I tried. Most of it looked like random numbers. Shipping codes. Addresses. Initials.”
Adrian’s expression changed.
“Why didn’t you tell police?”
“The detective told me to disappear.”
“What detective?”
“Raymond Cole. Philadelphia Police.”
Adrian slowly rose.
Emily saw it immediately.
“You know him.”
“I know the name.”
“How?”
Adrian looked toward Leo.
“Cole handled the warehouse investigation.”
Emily nodded.
“Yes.”
“He was also the officer who told me Danny had been found.”
Adrian’s voice became almost too quiet.
“Emily, Raymond Cole retired six months before Danny died.”
Her face drained.
“That’s impossible.”
“No.”
“He showed me a badge.”
“He may have had one.”
“He came to my apartment.”
Adrian stepped closer.
“Did you ever verify him through the department?”
“No. I was twenty-two. My brother had just been murdered.”
“Then Cole wasn’t protecting you.”
Emily looked around the destroyed apartment.
“He was making sure I disappeared.”
Adrian nodded grimly.
“And tonight,” he said, “somebody finally found you again.”