Chapter 2 - The Man Who Knew Too Much
Mave spent the entire ride refusing to look at Rowan.
It was surprisingly difficult.
He sat beside her in the back of the town car with one ankle resting over the opposite knee, reading something on a tablet as if kidnapping terrified women from back alleys was part of his normal Tuesday schedule.
Eventually, she couldn't stand the silence.
“Where are we going?”
“Your apartment.”
She turned sharply.
“How do you know where I live?”
Rowan didn't look up.
“I know where everyone important to me lives.”
“I'm not important to you.”
“Not yet.”
Mave's heart stumbled.
She hated that he noticed.
“You're impossible.”
“So I've been told.”
“Do you always talk like you're in a bad spy movie?”
“No.”
“Then why now?”
“Because you're nervous.”
“I am not nervous.”
“You've been rubbing your thumb against your palm for twenty minutes.”
She immediately stopped.
Rowan finally looked at her.
“Exactly.”
She looked away.
The city rolled past the windows.
Chicago after dark was a maze of headlights, brick facades, rain-streaked glass and people who seemed to have somewhere more important to be.
Mave had lived there her whole life.
She had never seen it from this angle.
Private drivers.
Tinted glass.
Quiet streets.
Security vehicles that appeared and disappeared as if the city itself were escorting Rowan.
When the car stopped outside her building, Mave frowned.
“Why are there two men on the sidewalk?”
“Security.”
“I don't need security.”
“You do.”
She exited the car.
Rowan followed.
Her apartment building was old enough to groan in winter.
The stairwell smelled like radiator dust and somebody's burnt dinner.
She unlocked her door.
Then stopped.
Her door had been scratched.
Freshly.
Near the lock.
Mave touched it.
Rowan caught her wrist.
“Don't.”
She stared at him.
He examined the damage.
“Someone tried to pick this lock.”
Her stomach dropped.
“But I was at work.”
“Exactly.”
He looked down the hallway.
One of his men stepped forward.
Rowan nodded.
The man disappeared upstairs.
Mave whispered, “This is insane.”
“Yes.”
“What did my father do?”
Rowan looked at her.
“That is the wrong question.”
“What should I ask?”
“Who is afraid of what your father left behind?”
She stared.
“My father left behind unpaid bills and a terrible lawnmower.”
“No.”
Rowan's expression was hard.
“He left behind information.”
“What information?”
He didn't answer.
“Rowan.”
He looked at her.
“Someone is looking for a red ledger.”
“What?”
“A book your father kept.”
“I've never seen it.”
“I believe you.”
“Then why come to me?”
“Because they don't.”
She felt a chill.
A noise came from inside the apartment.
Mave froze.
“I live alone.”
Rowan stepped in front of her.
His hand went to his weapon.
He entered quietly.
The apartment was dark.
One lamp had been knocked over.
Drawers were open.
Clothing scattered across the floor.
Someone had searched the place.
Mave's breath caught.
“My bedroom.”
She rushed forward.
Rowan grabbed her.
“Wait.”
He checked the room first.
Then nodded.
She entered.
Her mattress had been cut open.
Her father's old photographs were everywhere.
One frame was broken.
Mave knelt.
A picture of her father stared back at her.
She picked it up.
On the back was handwriting.
If anything happens to me, find Rowan Mercer.
Her fingers went numb.
She turned toward him.
“You knew.”
“I suspected.”
“You knew my father left a message for me.”
“I didn't know the exact wording.”
“Why didn't you tell me?”
“Because I didn't know whether you were involved.”
“With what?”
“Your father's last job.”
“I was twenty-three.”
“He may have been protecting you.”
“From who?”
“People who are very much alive.”
She sat on the bed.
Her mind struggled to catch up.
“My father lied to me.”
“Parents lie when they think truth will kill their children.”
She looked up.
“You knew him.”
“For years.”
“Were you friends?”
“No.”
Enemies?
“Then what?”
Rowan's eyes softened.
“Your father saved my younger brother.”
Mave waited.
“Years ago, I was twenty-five. My brother was fourteen. Somebody tried to use him to force me into giving up territory.”
“What happened?”
“Your father found him.”
“Where?”
“A warehouse.”
“Did he rescue him?”
“Yes.”
“What happened to your brother?”
“He lived.”
“Then why haven't I heard this before?”
“Because your father told me to keep your family out of my world.”
Mave swallowed.
“And you promised?”
“I did.”
“Then why break the promise now?”
Rowan looked at her.
“Because the people who killed your father are still searching.”
She felt a sharp ache in her chest.
“My father died of a heart attack.”
“That's what they told you.”
The room went silent.
Mave stared.
“Are you saying he was murdered?”
“Yes.”
She stood so fast the room spun.
“No.”
“I'm sorry.”
“You don't get to say that.”
“Mave.”
“My father was sick.”
“He wasn't.”
“How do you know?”
“I saw the autopsy.”
She stopped.
“Why?”
“Because I paid for a second one.”
“Why would you care that much?”
Rowan's jaw tightened.
“Because I owed him.”
Mave's eyes filled.
She looked away.
“I don't know what to believe.”
“You don't have to believe me.”
He walked toward the door.
“But you need to understand something.”
“What?”
“The men looking for that ledger don't care whether you're innocent.”
He paused.
“They will kill you if they think you have it.”
She looked at him.
“And you?”
“I won't.”
“Why?”
He looked back.
“Because you kissed me for $50 and somehow managed to become the most interesting problem in my life.”
Despite everything, a tiny laugh escaped her.
Rowan almost smiled.
Almost.
Then his phone rang.
He answered.
His expression changed.
“What?”
He listened.
“Repeat that.”
Silence.
“Where?”
Another pause.
“Send everyone.”
He ended the call.
Mave stood.
“What happened?”
May you like
Rowan looked at her.
“Your bakery is on fire.”
