Chapter 2 - The Undertaker Couldn't Forget Her Face
Julian Voss had killed men for less than what happened at the auction.
By six in the morning, three bodies had disappeared from the warehouse.
One belonged to the shooter.
The second belonged to a man who had been working with him.
The third was the auctioneer.
None of them mattered anymore.
The room had been cleaned.
The blood had been removed.
The security cameras had been seized.
The guests had been given strict instructions.
No one spoke.
No one complained.
No one asked where the money had gone.
Because everyone in the city knew what happened to people who disappointed Julian Voss.
What they didn't know was that Julian was not thinking about the auction.
He was thinking about a nurse.
A nurse who had smelled faintly of lavender soap.
A nurse who had looked at him with pure terror before he'd kissed her.
A nurse whose first instinct after the gunfire had been to check another person's pulse.
Julian had spent twelve hours trying to understand why he remembered that.
He hated the feeling.
"Tomas."
"Yes?"
"Find her."
Tomas looked up from his phone.
"Who?"
Julian stared at him.
"The woman."
Tomas didn't pretend not to understand.
"Cora Whitaker."
"How long?"
"Thirty-six minutes."
Julian glanced at his watch.
"It's been thirty-eight."
"Then we're late."
Tomas left.
Julian stood before the floor-to-ceiling windows in his office.
The city below was turning gold with sunrise.
He should have been thinking about the shipment arriving at the docks.
About Gabriel Marlowe's betrayal.
About the missing ledger.
About the auction money.
Instead, he remembered Cora's face.
He remembered the way she'd said, "It's not what it looks like."
He remembered that she'd been holding a tray with both hands while trying not to spill champagne.
He remembered her shoes.
Cheap.
Wet.
One heel partially cracked.
She hadn't belonged in that room.
That was what bothered him most.
Why had Felix brought her?
And why had Felix used his own debt agreement to put her there?
Tomas returned forty minutes later.
He placed a file on the desk.
"Her name is Cora Anne Whitaker."
Julian opened it.
"Twenty-seven. Registered nurse. Currently works night shifts at St. Mary's and picks up private home-care work."
"Family?"
"Father. Raymond Whitaker."
Julian looked up.
"What does he do?"
"Nothing productive."
Tomas sat down.
"Gambling addiction. He owes money to three different bookmakers and a private lender."
"Felix?"
"Yes."
Julian continued reading.
"Mother?"
"Dead."
"How?"
"Complications following surgery."
Julian's eyes stopped.
"Where?"
"St. Mary's."
"When?"
"Fifteen years ago."
Something cold moved through him.
"What's her mother's name?"
"Elaine Whitaker."
Julian stared at the page.
He knew that name.
He knew it because he'd heard it once before.
Years ago.
In a hospital corridor.
When he was nineteen.
When his sister was dying.
When one exhausted nurse had whispered to him that there was a poor woman in another room who had donated blood for a patient she didn't even know.
Julian closed his eyes.
No.
It couldn't be.
He looked again.
"What was Elaine's maiden name?"
Tomas hesitated.
"Mercer."
Julian stood.
His chair rolled backward.
"Say it again."
"Mercer."
Julian's memory exploded open.
A photograph.
A red-haired nurse.
His father's handwriting.
A name circled three times.
Mercer.
Not a random family.
Not an unknown nurse.
One of the women who had worked for his father during the old days.
Julian felt a pulse of anger.
"Where is Cora now?"
"At St. Mary's."
"She went to work?"
"Yes."
"She didn't stay home?"
"No."
Julian almost smiled.
Of course she hadn't.
Tomas watched him carefully.
"What are you thinking?"
"That she is either incredibly brave or incredibly foolish."
"Maybe both."
Julian looked out the window.
"Get a car."
"For the hospital?"
"Yes."
Tomas stood.
Then paused.
"Julian."
"What?"
"You kissed her."
Julian gave him a murderous look.
"I know."
"No. I mean you kissed her."
"I was there."
"You never touch strangers."
Julian said nothing.
Tomas studied him.
"You've never used civilians as cover before."
"I had no choice."
"Maybe."
Julian turned.
"Don't."
"Don't what?"
"Make this into something it isn't."
Tomas smiled faintly.
"I didn't say anything."
But Julian knew what his right hand was thinking.
And he hated that some part of himself was thinking it too.
At St. Mary's, Cora was changing a dressing when she heard someone ask for her at the nurses' station.
She stepped out.
A man in a dark suit stood waiting.
Her heart dropped.
"Can I help you?"
"Mr. Voss would like to speak with you."
"No."
The man blinked.
"Excuse me?"
"I said no."
"Cora."
She looked past him.
Julian was standing at the end of the corridor.
He had removed his coat.
His sleeves were rolled to his forearms.
He looked less like a criminal king and more like a man who had walked into the wrong building and somehow made everyone notice.
Cora couldn't breathe.
He approached.
"You came to work."
"I have bills."
"I know."
"You have people following me?"
"Yes."
Her eyes narrowed.
"Why?"
"Because somebody tried to kill me last night."
"That wasn't my fault."
"I know."
"Then leave me alone."
"I can't."
She stared at him.
"Why?"
Julian looked at her for a long moment.
"Because the person who put you in that room knew my name."
Cora's face changed.
"And because the debt contract your father signed has my name on it."
She went still.
Julian lowered his voice.
"I think someone used you to get close to me."
Her stomach turned.
"So I'm bait."
"Maybe."
"Then I don't want anything to do with you."
He nodded.
"I understand."
She was surprised.
He continued.
"But whether you want me near you or not, somebody already knows you exist."
He placed a card on the counter.
"My number."
Cora didn't take it.
"Why would I call you?"
"When someone comes for you."
"How do you know someone will?"
Julian's eyes hardened.
"Because they already have."
He walked away.
Cora watched him disappear through the hospital doors.
She glanced down at the card.
May you like
On the back was a single handwritten sentence.
You saved people for a living. Let someone save you once.
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