Chapter 5 - The Second TargetMarcello walked into the hospital emergency room under his own power.
Sadie saw him from the far end of the corridor.
His suit jacket was gone.
Blood darkened one sleeve.
A cut ran along his temple.
But he was standing.
Something inside Sadie released so quickly it almost hurt.
She had not realized how frightened she had been until that moment.
Marcello saw her.
His steps slowed.
“You’re okay?”
Sadie almost laughed.
“You’re asking me?”
“The car was armored.”
“You’re bleeding.”
“It looks worse than it is.”
Anthony muttered, “It does not.”
Marcello ignored him.
Detective Voss approached.
“The driver is alive.”
Marcello’s expression sharpened.
“Who is he?”
“Twenty-two-year-old named Leon Barrett.”
“Falco?”
“No connection we can find.”
Sadie frowned.
“Then why did he have my picture?”
Voss hesitated.
“He says someone paid him five thousand dollars to follow you.”
Sadie’s stomach turned.
“Who?”
“He doesn’t know.”
Marcello’s voice became colder.
“You expect us to believe that?”
Voss looked at him.
“I expect you to let me investigate.”
She turned toward Sadie.
“Leon says he was told to photograph where you were staying.”
Sadie stared.
“He was looking for me.”
“Yes.”
“And he hit Marcello’s car accidentally?”
“He tried to follow too closely during a lane change. Lost control.”
Marcello looked unimpressed.
Sadie asked the important question.
“Who gave him my photograph?”
Voss pulled out her phone.
“This man.”
A security camera image appeared.
A man in a baseball cap stood beside Leon at a gas station.
His face was partly visible.
Sadie looked once.
Then twice.
“I know him.”
Marcello stiffened.
“Who?”
“He worked construction with Boyd.”
“Name?”
“Rick.”
Sadie searched her memory.
“Rick Danner.”
Anthony was already typing.
Seconds later, he found him.
Richard Danner.
Age thirty-eight.
Three arrests.
One conviction for aggravated assault.
Employed by Keystone Structural.
The same subcontractor that had received Falco money.
Marcello looked at Voss.
“Boyd’s employer.”
Voss nodded.
“Which means the conspiracy is bigger than Boyd.”
Sadie stared at the photograph.
Boyd had not created this.
He had joined it.
That distinction frightened her.
Marcello was discharged an hour later after refusing overnight observation.
Sadie was furious.
“You should stay.”
“I have a concussion.”
“Exactly.”
“A mild concussion.”
“That is still a concussion.”
Marcello stopped walking.
Sadie stopped too.
Anthony pretended to become fascinated by his phone.
Marcello looked at her.
“You’re ordering me around.”
Sadie suddenly realized she was.
Her face warmed.
“I…”
Marcello’s mouth moved slightly.
“I like it.”
She stared.
His smile disappeared almost immediately, but she had seen it.
Sadie looked away.
“This isn’t funny.”
“No.”
His voice softened.
“It isn’t.”
For a moment, the dangerous world around them disappeared.
Then Voss approached carrying an evidence envelope.
“Sadie.”
Inside was a photograph.
Boyd.
Rick Danner.
And Vincent Falco.
The three men stood beside a construction trailer.
Date stamp: eleven months earlier.
Sadie studied it.
Something bothered her.
“What?”
Voss asked.
Sadie pointed at the background.
A woman was entering the trailer.
Only half her face was visible.
Sadie knew her.
“Margot?”
“No.”
Sadie zoomed in.
A silver bracelet.
Red hair.
A familiar posture.
Her chest tightened.
“That’s Nina Bell.”
“Who?”
“Assistant director of hotel operations.”
Marcello’s expression sharpened.
“Bowmont?”
Sadie nodded.
“Nina approves vendors.”
Voss immediately understood.
“Construction vendors?”
Sadie nodded again.
Keystone Structural had worked on Bowmont renovations six months earlier.
Suddenly the connections snapped together.
Nina Bell approved Keystone.
Keystone paid Boyd.
Boyd accessed hotel schedules.
The Falcos gained entry.
Marcello looked at Anthony.
“Find Bell.”
Anthony made two calls.
Thirty seconds later, his face changed.
“She didn’t come to work today.”
Voss asked, “Home?”
“Empty.”
Sadie’s phone rang.
Unknown number.
Everyone looked at it.
Marcello said, “Don’t answer.”
Sadie looked at him.
He caught himself.
“Your choice.”
Sadie answered.
“Hello?”
Silence.
Then Boyd’s voice.
“Sadie.”
Every muscle in her body tightened.
Marcello’s eyes became lethal.
Voss quietly activated a recording device.
Sadie forced herself to breathe.
“Where are you?”
Boyd laughed.
“You always ask the wrong question.”
She closed her eyes.
That sounded like him.
“You lied about me.”
“I protected myself.”
“You tried to frame me for murder.”
“You ruined everything.”
Sadie felt something inside her change.
Not fear.
Anger.
“I stopped a man from killing someone.”
“You should have kept your head down.”
There it was.
The entire marriage in one sentence.
Sadie looked directly at Marcello.
He said nothing.
He did not need to.
“Why?” she asked Boyd.
Silence.
“Why Marcello?”
Boyd exhaled.
“You think this was about him?”
Sadie frowned.
“Then what was it about?”
“Money.”
“Whose?”
“People who don’t spend nine years cleaning toilets.”
Sadie’s jaw tightened.
Boyd continued.
“You could’ve had everything if you’d just listened to me.”
“What?”
“We were leaving.”
Her blood went cold.
“When?”
“After the hit.”
Sadie looked at Voss.
Voss’s pen froze.
Boyd continued.
“Falco was paying enough for us to disappear.”
“You were taking me?”
“Of course.”
Sadie nearly laughed.
The life insurance policy.
The forged documents.
The evidence planted in the basement.
He had never planned to take her.
He was lying even now.
“No,” she said.
Boyd went silent.
“You weren’t taking me.”
“Sadie—”
“You were going to kill me.”
Marcello’s face changed.
Voss looked sharply at Sadie.
Sadie continued.
“The life insurance policy. Seven hundred fifty thousand dollars.”
Boyd did not speak.
“You forged my signature.”
Still silence.
“You were going to make me the assassin’s accomplice, then kill me.”
“Don’t be dramatic.”
Sadie’s breath stopped.
The words were so familiar.
Don’t be dramatic.
“You were going to kill me,” she repeated.
Boyd’s voice changed.
Harder.
“You have no idea what you’re talking about.”
For six years, that sentence would have made Sadie question herself.
Now it did not.
“I know exactly what I’m talking about.”
Silence.
Then Boyd whispered, “You think Vieri is going to save you?”
Sadie looked at Marcello.
“No.”
Marcello’s eyes held hers.
Sadie said, “I’m saving myself.”
The line went quiet.
Then Boyd laughed.
“You?”
“Yes.”
“You can’t even open a bank account without me.”
Sadie’s voice steadied.
“I did this morning.”
Boyd stopped laughing.
Marcello looked surprised.
So did Voss.
Sadie continued.
“My paycheck goes there now.”
Another silence.
“I filed for a protection order.”
Boyd breathed heavier.
“And tomorrow, I’m filing for divorce.”
When Boyd spoke again, the mask was gone.
“You ungrateful bitch.”
Sadie did not flinch.
“You should run.”
“What?”
“Because the woman you controlled for six years is the one person who knows how you think.”
Then she ended the call.
Her hand shook.
But she had ended it.
Not him.
Detective Voss immediately sent the trace data to police.
Marcello watched Sadie carefully.
“You really opened an account?”
She nodded.
“This morning.”
“How much is in it?”
Sadie smiled faintly.
“Forty-three dollars.”
Anthony coughed to hide a laugh.
Marcello’s expression softened.
Sadie added, “It’s mine.”
“Yes,” Marcello said.
“It is.”
That night, police traced Boyd’s call to a warehouse near McKees Rocks.
By the time they arrived, Boyd was gone.
But Nina Bell was there.
Dead?
No.
Alive.
Bound to a chair.
Terrified.
And when Detective Voss removed the tape from Nina’s mouth, the first thing she said was not Boyd’s name.
It was Marcello’s.
“Vieri doesn’t understand.”
Nina gasped.
“The hit wasn’t ordered by Vincent Falco.”
Marcello stared at her.
“Then who ordered it?”
May you like
Nina began to cry.
“Your own brother.”
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