Chapter 2 - The Man Outside Her Locked Door Knew About the Missing Women—And the Mafia Boss Had Been Waiting for Someone to Make That Mistake
The first thing Megan did was turn off the bedroom lamp.
The second was press the small brass button Moren had shown her.
Then she backed toward the window, clutching the document so tightly that its corners cut into her palm.
Outside, the ocean was invisible beyond the gardens.
Inside, a stranger stood on the other side of her locked door.
The man had known her name.
He had known about the paper.
And he had mentioned other women.
Megan pressed her free hand against her chest, trying to quiet her breathing.
"Miss Walsh," the voice repeated. "There's no reason to involve anyone else."
She stared at the handle.
"Just slide the paper beneath the door."
She remained silent.
The stranger exhaled.
"I know you're frightened. But whatever Nicholas told you, he cannot protect you from the people who signed that agreement."
Megan looked toward the bathroom.
There was no second exit.
She had survived four years of Rick's anger by learning when silence was safer than conversation.
But she also knew silence could encourage men who believed it represented submission.
"Who are you?" she asked.
A pause.
"Someone trying to help."
"Then go away."
"You're making this difficult."
A quiet movement came from the hallway.
Then another voice spoke.
"She's making it perfectly clear."
Nicholas.
Megan nearly dropped the paper.
The stranger began speaking rapidly.
"Mr. Bellamy, I was only checking—"
"Why her door?"
"An oversight."
"At two in the morning?"
"Mr. Voss instructed us to verify the guests were settled."
Nicholas said nothing for several seconds.
Then he asked, "Does Mr. Voss usually instruct security to enter a woman's locked bedroom without permission?"
"No, sir."
"Then who gave you that instruction?"
The silence stretched.
Megan could hear the sound of another man approaching.
Shoes stopped outside her room.
A restrained struggle followed.
Then Nicholas spoke again.
"Take his access card. Secure him in the east office. No telephone, no visitors, and nobody questions him without me present."
"Yes, sir."
Footsteps retreated.
Nicholas remained outside.
"Megan?"
She swallowed.
"Yes?"
"The man has been removed. You're safe to keep the door locked."
She wanted to believe him.
Instead she asked, "Who is Mr. Voss?"
A pause followed.
"My financial director."
"Does he know about the paper?"
"He shouldn't."
"Someone knows."
"Yes."
Megan heard Nicholas shift slightly.
"I'm not asking you to open the door. Moren is coming to sit outside until you feel comfortable sleeping."
"I don't need a babysitter."
"Then she'll bring you tea and pretend we're all having an exceptionally inconvenient evening."
Against every reasonable expectation, Megan almost smiled.
Nicholas lowered his voice.
"Did the man touch the lock?"
"He tried the handle."
"Did he threaten you?"
She looked at the paper in her hand.
"He said something about other girls."
Silence.
This time it was different.
Nicholas seemed to absorb her words rather than merely hear them.
"What exactly did he say?"
Megan repeated the sentence.
Rick wasn't the first man to bring a woman here.
He was only the first one stupid enough to bring her to the wrong Bellamy.
She heard Nicholas inhale.
"Thank you."
"What does it mean?"
"It means I need to find out who sent him."
"That's not what I asked."
"No," Nicholas said. "It isn't."
His honesty startled her.
"Will you tell me?"
"Yes. But I want to know the truth before I ask you to trust any part of it."
Moren arrived a moment later.
Megan heard the older woman greet Nicholas.
Then his footsteps moved away.
A chair was placed outside the bedroom door.
Moren settled into it with a soft sigh.
"I brought a book," she announced.
Megan stood motionless.
"You don't need to stay."
"I know."
"You're not required to watch me?"
"No."
"Then why are you sitting there?"
Moren's voice warmed.
"Because it's two in the morning, someone frightened you, and I've discovered that I would rather read beside this door than go back to sleep."
Megan sat against the bed.
After several minutes, she heard the faint rustling of pages.
Something about that ordinary sound steadied her.
Eventually she switched on the lamp again.
She examined the document until the words blurred.
Then she tucked it beneath her pillow and lay down without removing the clothes Moren had given her.
She did not sleep until dawn.
When she woke, sunlight filled the room.
A breakfast tray stood outside her door.
Beside it lay a small handwritten note.
No obligations today. Eat something. — Moren.
Megan carried the tray inside.
There were scrambled eggs, toast, berries, and a small vase holding three white tulips.
She recognized the flowers immediately.
They were the same variety she often ordered for the shop.
The sight of them made her think of Tessa Morgan.
Tessa had owned the little flower shop on Wickenden Street for eleven years.
She was forty-two, outspoken, stubborn, and the closest thing Megan had to family in Providence.
When Megan had finally left Rick, Tessa helped her find a room above the bakery.
She also bought Megan a cheap prepaid telephone and insisted that Rick not receive the number.
Megan had promised to call her every evening.
She had not called last night.
Fear surged through her.
She found her telephone inside her bag.
There were six missed calls from Tessa.
And one message.
Meg, Rick came by the shop asking where you were. He said you went away together. Please tell me you're okay.
Megan called immediately.
Tessa answered before the second ring.
"Where are you?"
"I'm safe."
"That wasn't my question."
Megan closed her eyes.
"I'm outside Newport."
"With Rick?"
"No."
"Thank God."
Tessa's voice broke.
"Listen to me. He came back after closing. He was furious. He said somebody had humiliated him, and he wanted to know whether you'd been talking to police."
Megan sat on the edge of the bed.
"What did you tell him?"
"That he could leave before I called them."
"Tessa—"
"And then I called them anyway."
Megan covered her mouth.
"Did they come?"
"Eventually. The officer took a report. But Rick was gone."
"Was anyone else with him?"
Tessa hesitated.
"Why?"
"Please."
"There was a gray sedan across the street. It stayed for about twenty minutes after Rick left."
Megan remembered the man at her bedroom door.
A cold sensation crawled through her arms.
"Don't go to the shop alone today."
"Megan, what have you gotten into?"
"I don't know yet."
"Then let me help."
"You already have."
"No, sweetheart. I've kept you employed and made you drink water. That isn't the same thing as helping you get free."
Megan looked at the flowers on the tray.
"I found something in Rick's jacket."
"What?"
"A contract."
"About what?"
Megan could not force the words out.
Finally she whispered, "Me."
Silence filled the line.
Then Tessa said, "Tell me where you are."
Megan heard footsteps outside.
"Meg?"
"I'll call you back."
She ended the call.
A gentle knock followed.
"Megan? It's Moren."
Megan opened the door.
Moren carried a folded cardigan.
"Mr. Bellamy asked whether you'd join him in the library. You're welcome to decline."
Megan glanced down the corridor.
"Is the man from last night still here?"
"He's being held in a secured office while his conduct is investigated."
"Did he say who sent him?"
"Not yet."
Megan considered the cardigan.
Then she asked, "Would you take me to Nicholas?"
Moren nodded.
"Of course."
They descended a different staircase.
Megan paid attention to every doorway, every exit, and every window.
Four years with Rick had taught her to understand danger.
Her studies had taught her to understand buildings.
It was an unusual combination, but she was grateful for both.
The library occupied the western side of the mansion.
Tall bookshelves framed a marble fireplace.
Large windows overlooked a courtyard and the distant sea.
Nicholas stood behind a desk reading a file.
He looked up when they entered.
"Good morning."
Megan had expected an interrogation.
Instead, he offered her a chair and asked whether she'd eaten.
"Yes."
"Good."
He closed the file.
"Before we discuss last night, there's something you should know."
Megan sat.
Nicholas remained standing.
"Rick Delaney was never authorized to offer you as payment for anything connected to me."
She studied his face.
"But he thought he was."
"Yes."
"Why?"
"Because someone has been using my organization's name to conduct transactions I didn't approve."
"Transactions involving women?"
Nicholas did not answer immediately.
"That's what I'm investigating."
"How long have you known?"
"About the fraudulent contracts? Forty-eight hours."
Megan gripped the edge of her chair.
"About women disappearing?"
His expression darkened.
"Long enough to know there are people in this city who should have been stopped years ago."
The words chilled her.
"You knew."
"I knew there were complaints about coercion and vanished witnesses connected to certain businesses. I didn't know those operations were being run under my family's old financial arrangements."
"Is that supposed to make me feel better?"
"No."
The blunt answer surprised her.
Nicholas sat opposite her.
"My family has controlled shipping companies, property interests, private lending, and other businesses around Newport for three generations. Some of those operations have been criminal. I'm not going to insult you by pretending otherwise."
Megan looked toward the windows.
"And you're in charge now."
"Yes."
"So if something terrible happened under your name, you're responsible."
Nicholas held her gaze.
"Yes."
She had not expected him to agree.
Rick never accepted responsibility for anything.
Even when he broke a glass, he blamed the way she had arranged the cabinet.
Nicholas opened the file.
"Eight months ago, your payments closed Delaney's original loan. Three months later, our accounts received a claim from a company called North Channel Holdings."
Megan repeated the name.
"North Channel."
"The claim stated that the debt had been assigned to them before repayment. They insisted that the original balance was still outstanding."
"Was it?"
"No."
"Then why did they claim it?"
"We refused the invoice. But last week, someone sent Delaney instructions under a Bellamy seal, asking him to bring you here."
Megan's skin prickled.
"Who?"
"That's what I'd like to know."
She reached into her cardigan and removed the folded document.
Nicholas's attention settled on it.
For the first time, his composure visibly changed.
Megan placed the paper on the desk.
"I found this sewn into his jacket."
Nicholas did not touch it.
"May I?"
She nodded.
He unfolded the paper carefully.
His eyes moved over the language.
Then stopped at the seal.
"Where did you find this exactly?"
"Inside the lining. Near the left pocket."
"Did Rick know you took it?"
"I don't think so."
Nicholas looked at the handwritten date.
"Tomorrow."
Megan nodded.
"There's an address at the bottom."
"I see it."
"I know the building."
Nicholas looked up.
"How?"
"I studied design in Providence. We surveyed some abandoned properties along the waterfront. This one was supposed to be demolished."
"Did you ever go inside?"
"Yes."
"Anything unusual?"
She hesitated.
"The building had a door with the same emblem."
Nicholas leaned forward.
"Are you certain?"
"I remember it clearly."
"Why?"
"Because it didn't fit."
He waited.
Megan felt strangely self-conscious.
"Old industrial architecture has a visual language. Cargo doors, freight elevators, protective grilles. That door was different. Decorative brass hinges. Custom ironwork. It was built to resemble something much older than the rest of the building."
Nicholas's eyes narrowed.
"What else?"
"There was a staircase behind it."
"Did you go down?"
"No. Our professor stopped us."
"Name?"
"Professor Edwin Mercer."
Nicholas wrote it down.
Megan looked at the document.
"There's another message on the back. An impression."
She turned it over and showed him the pencil shading.
Nicholas studied the words.
DELIVERY CONFIRMED ONLY AFTER SECOND TRANSFER.
He stood.
Walked to the window.
Then returned.
"Whoever created this document expected you to move through more than one location."
Megan felt sick.
"The mansion was just the first?"
"Possibly."
"Was Rick going to take me somewhere else?"
"I don't think Rick knew the entire plan."
She remembered how confused he had sounded when Nicholas dismissed him.
"So he was being used too."
"Yes. That doesn't make him innocent."
"No."
Nicholas reached for the telephone.
"Moren, would you ask Daniel to come in?"
A few minutes later, a tall man entered wearing a dark jacket.
He had closely cropped brown hair and the tired expression of someone who rarely slept properly.
Nicholas introduced him as Daniel Cross, his head of security.
Daniel listened while Nicholas explained the document.
Then he made a telephone call.
"We have cameras at three intersections near that warehouse," he said. "I'll request the footage."
Megan looked from one man to the other.
"Are we going there?"
"No," Nicholas answered.
"Why?"
"Because whoever expects you there will be watching for you."
"But you can send your men."
"I can. And I will. Not before we understand what they might walk into."
Megan folded her hands.
She had imagined powerful men solving problems by simply giving orders.
Nicholas seemed determined not to confuse action with thought.
Daniel left.
A moment later, Moren returned with fresh tea.
Megan noticed the older woman studying the document.
"Have you seen that seal before?" Megan asked.
Moren stopped.
Nicholas looked toward her.
For the first time, the older woman's composure slipped.
"Yes," she said.
"Where?"
Moren slowly lowered the teapot.
"Twenty-three years ago."
Nicholas went very still.
"Moren."
She looked at him.
"The time for hiding this has passed."
Megan felt as though she had entered a conversation that began long before she was born.
"What happened twenty-three years ago?"
Moren pulled out a chair.
Her hands trembled as she sat.
"Your father," she said to Nicholas, "once employed a man who believed debts gave him the right to own people."
Nicholas's jaw tightened.
"I know about my father's collection practices."
"Not these."
Moren reached for the paper.
She placed one finger beside the broken lighthouse.
"This seal belonged to an organization called the Black Lantern."
Megan swallowed.
"What did they do?"
"They arranged private transportation for people who were told they owed money."
Nicholas's voice was low.
"Transportation where?"
Moren looked at him with visible grief.
"Some were forced to work in isolated properties. Others were moved between shell companies and held under threats to their families. Most never knew which men controlled the arrangements."
Megan struggled to breathe.
"Did anyone escape?"
"Some."
"What happened to them?"
Moren's gaze softened.
"A few found help. A few changed their names. Others disappeared."
Nicholas looked furious.
"Why didn't you tell me?"
"Because your father threatened my sister. Because nobody believed women who worked in the Bellamy household. Because I was younger and frightened and made decisions I've regretted every day since."
Nicholas stood.
The muscles in his jaw tightened.
"Is the Black Lantern still operating?"
Moren shook her head.
"I thought it ended when your father died."
Megan looked down at the document.
"Maybe someone started it again."
Moren did not respond.
Nicholas crossed to the desk and opened a drawer.
He removed a photograph.
It showed three men standing outside the same waterfront building Megan had described.
One was Nicholas's father.
Another was a younger man with silver hair.
The third stood slightly behind them, smiling.
Megan recognized him immediately.
Not because she had met him.
Because Rick had kept his photograph inside a locked drawer.
She had once found it while looking for their tax documents.
The man in the photograph had been much younger.
But the pale eyes, narrow face, and crooked smile were unmistakable.
"That man," Megan whispered.
Nicholas followed her finger.
"Silas Voss."
Megan's heartbeat accelerated.
"Rick knows him."
Nicholas's expression hardened.
"Voss handles my organization's financial accounts."
Moren closed her eyes.
Megan looked from one face to the other.
"He's the person the guard mentioned last night."
Nicholas said nothing.
He didn't need to.
The same man appeared in Rick's secret photograph, the organization's old history, and the stranger's explanation for approaching her bedroom.
Megan rose unsteadily.
"I want to leave."
Nicholas stepped aside from the path to the door.
"All right."
She hesitated.
"You're not going to stop me?"
"No."
"What if I take this paper to the police?"
"Then I'll provide a lawyer who can help you do that safely, if you want one."
Megan stared at him.
Rick had always told her that men with power would destroy anyone who crossed them.
Nicholas had enough power to frighten a room into silence.
Yet he was giving her choices.
She looked at the paper.
Then at Moren.
"Would the police believe me?"
"They should," Moren said.
"But will they?"
Nicholas spoke carefully.
"Some officers will. Others may be compromised. I'd like to connect you with someone outside the local chain of command."
Megan considered that.
"And Tessa?"
"Who's Tessa?"
"My boss. My friend. Rick went to her shop last night."
Nicholas immediately picked up his telephone.
"Daniel, I need you to verify the safety of a woman in Providence. Tessa Morgan, Wickenden Street. No contact without her permission."
Megan felt a rush of relief.
Then fear returned.
"If you send people, Rick might notice."
"Then we'll coordinate with her and use ordinary transportation. She deserves to know who's approaching her."
Megan sat again.
The decision forming inside her frightened her more than leaving Rick had.
For years, survival meant escaping attention.
Now the only way to stop what Rick had done might be to expose everything.
"I won't go back to him," she said.
Nicholas's expression softened.
"You don't have to."
"And I won't let him do this to someone else."
He watched her.
"Then we'll find the evidence."
"We?"
"Only if you want my help."
Megan looked at the broken lighthouse seal.
For the first time since discovering the paper, she felt something stronger than fear.
Purpose.
She nodded.
But before Nicholas could speak, Daniel returned.
His face was pale.
"We found the warehouse footage."
Nicholas stood.
"What happened?"
Daniel looked at Megan.
"At six this morning, a delivery truck entered the waterfront property."
"And?"
"Four women were taken inside."
Megan gripped the chair.
Daniel continued.
"At seven-thirty, the same truck left."
"With the women?" Nicholas asked.
Daniel shook his head.
"No."
A terrible silence followed.
"Where are they?" Megan whispered.
Daniel's answer changed everything.
"We don't know. But the truck's driver was identified."
May you like
He placed a photograph on Nicholas's desk.
It showed Rick Delaney stepping down from the driver's seat.
Related Stories
