Chapter 4 - Locker Seventeen

They escaped through an alley behind the building and crossed two blocks on foot before Marco opened an old gray sedan parked beneath a church awning.

Catherine stared at it.

"How many cars do you own?"

"None of the ones you've seen."

"Wonderful."

Logan yawned against her shoulder.

"Mommy home?"

Catherine kissed his forehead.

"Not yet, sweetheart."

The old ferry terminal had been converted into a public market, but a row of original brass lockers remained near the abandoned eastern platform as a decorative historical feature. Most had been welded shut.

Locker seventeen had not.

Marco examined the corridor.

"Cameras at both ends."

"Public cameras?"

"Private security. Better than Harlan's network, maybe."

"Maybe again."

"You'll learn to appreciate the word."

Catherine approached the locker.

"I don't have a key."

"Try the date engraved on the ring."

The lock was a small four-digit keypad installed during renovation.

0614.

The light turned green.

Catherine stepped back.

"He planned this."

Marco's voice softened.

"Yes."

Inside was a black document pouch, a cheap prepaid phone, and a folded child's drawing.

Catherine recognized the drawing immediately.

Three stick figures stood beneath a yellow sun. MOM, DAD, LOGAN. She had taped it to the refrigerator months before David vanished.

"How did this get here?"

Marco did not answer.

She opened the document pouch.

The first page was handwritten.

CATH,

IF YOU ARE READING THIS, THE RING REACHED YOU. THAT MEANS ALESSANDRO IS ALIVE, OR SOMEONE WANTS YOU TO THINK HE IS. DO NOT TRUST ANY SINGLE PERSON, INCLUDING EMILY. ESPECIALLY DO NOT TRUST ME JUST BECAUSE YOU LOVE ME.

Catherine's vision blurred.

She kept reading.

I SURVIVED THE CRASH. I LET YOU BELIEVE I DIED BECAUSE HARLAN HAD LOGAN'S PRESCHOOL ROUTE, YOUR SHIFT SCHEDULE, AND PHOTOS TAKEN INSIDE OUR HOUSE. I THOUGHT DISAPPEARING WOULD REMOVE THE LEVERAGE. I WAS WRONG.

Marco looked away, giving her privacy he did not really have the ability to provide.

Catherine read the next lines aloud.

"If I come home without finishing this, Harlan will use you to control me. If I do not come home, it is because I have not found a safe way to end it."

Her voice cracked.

"He made the decision for me."

"Yes," Marco said.

"He decided I could survive thinking he was dead."

"Yes."

"Do you think that was right?"

Marco took his time.

"No."

Catherine looked at him, surprised.

"Alessandro would tell you it was tactical. I think some choices protect the body and destroy everything else."

She folded the letter with shaking hands.

The prepaid phone rang.

Catherine nearly dropped it.

Marco raised one finger.

"Speaker. Don't say where we are."

She answered.

"Hello?"

For a moment there was only static.

Then David said, "Cath?"

Her knees buckled.

Marco caught her elbow and guided her to a bench.

"David."

Silence.

"Cath, is that you?"

She began to cry without making a sound.

"You are alive."

His breath hitched.

"Yes."

"You are alive."

"I am so sorry."

"No. Do not start with sorry. Where are you?"

"I can't tell you."

Catherine laughed through tears.

"Then hang up."

"Cath—"

"Seven months, David. Seven months I woke up reaching for you. Seven months Logan pointed at men in grocery stores and asked if one of them was Daddy. Seven months your mother blamed me for not forcing you to take a safer job."

"I know."

"You do not know."

"You're right."

"Why did you call?"

"Because the locker opened. It triggered an alert."

Catherine looked at the keypad.

"You have been watching it?"

"Only for access. Not video."

"Alessandro has your ring."

David was silent too long.

"Then he's alive."

"He says you gave it to him six weeks ago."

"I did."

"Why?"

"Because I thought I was going to die."

Logan lifted his head from Catherine's shoulder.

"Daddy?"

David stopped breathing on the other end.

"Logan?"

The little boy smiled.

"Daddy phone."

Catherine closed her eyes.

David's voice broke.

"Hey, buddy."

"Where you go?"

No one in the terminal moved.

David whispered, "I had to do some work."

"Long work."

"Yeah. Too long."

"Mommy sad."

Catherine covered her mouth.

David made a sound like he had been punched.

"I know."

Logan frowned.

"Come home."

David did not answer for several seconds.

Then he said, "I'm trying."

Catherine took the phone back.

"Try harder."

"I will."

"Harlan found us at Marco's safe apartment. Emily says she's really Mara Vale. Is that true?"

David's voice changed.

"Who told you that name?"

"A man who commits felonies with a laptop. Answer me."

"Emily is not my biological sister."

"Who is she?"

"My father's former informant."

Catherine stared into the empty terminal.

"Your father?"

"He wasn't an accountant like I told you. He was an internal affairs investigator. Harlan was his partner."

"Oh my God."

"Emily was seventeen when my father pulled her out of a trafficking ring being protected by local officers. He put her into a new identity. My mother took her in unofficially. We grew up together after that."

"And Harlan?"

"Harlan knew her as Mara. He believed she died in a safe-house fire."

"Did she work for him later?"

"Yes. He found her years afterward and forced her into becoming an informant by threatening to expose her identity."

"She was at our house with him before your crash."

David inhaled sharply.

"How do you know?"

"Logan remembers."

"Then Emily lied to me. She said Harlan never came inside."

Marco leaned toward the phone.

"David, Harlan claims you tried to kill Alessandro six weeks ago."

Silence.

"Who is that?"

"Marco."

"Of course it is."

"Did you?"

David's answer came flat.

"I shot Alessandro."

Catherine's stomach dropped.

"What?"

"Not to kill him."

"You shot him but not to kill him?"

"He was wearing armor. I knew where to hit."

Marco's eyes narrowed.

"Why?"

"Because someone in his organization sold Harlan a list of protected witnesses. I thought Alessandro authorized it."

"He didn't," Marco said.

"I know that now."

Catherine stood up.

"You two can compare criminal misunderstandings later. Where are you?"

David lowered his voice.

"I'm close to getting the ledger."

"What ledger?"

"Harlan's insurance policy. Names, payments, false death certificates, evidence transfers. Everything."

"Come to us."

"I can't."

"You can."

"If I move now, the man holding the ledger disappears."

"Who?"

"Dr. Pritchard."

Marco looked sharply at Catherine.

"The doctor from the hospital?"

"Yes," David said. "He's not just Harlan's physician contact. He created the false medical records for the staged deaths."

Catherine's hands went cold.

"Including yours."

"Including mine."

"Where is Pritchard?"

"I can't tell you."

"David."

"Cath, please."

"Do not say please after seven months of silence."

A sound echoed through the terminal.

Metal scraping.

Marco raised his hand and scanned the far entrance.

David heard it through the phone.

"What was that?"

"Nothing," Catherine said.

"Cath, where are you?"

"You don't get to ask."

Marco whispered, "Someone's coming."

Catherine grabbed the pouch.

David's voice turned urgent.

"Listen to me. The documents in the locker include a list of three addresses. One is marked blue. Never go there."

Catherine pulled out the pages.

Three addresses. One had a blue line beside it.

"Why?"

"Because that's where Harlan keeps the people he cannot officially arrest."

Footsteps approached.

Marco drew a compact handgun but kept it low.

"Move behind the ticket counter."

Catherine carried Logan into cover.

A woman entered the corridor.

Dark red hair.

Emily.

She stopped when she saw Marco's weapon.

"Put that down."

Catherine stepped out.

"Emily."

Emily's face collapsed with relief.

"Thank God."

David heard her voice through the phone.

"Emily?"

She froze.

Catherine held the phone up.

"He says you lied about Harlan being at our house."

Emily's eyes filled with fear.

"David, you don't understand."

His voice hardened.

"Then explain."

Emily looked toward the terminal entrance.

"I can't here."

Marco said, "You had a syringe at Romano's room."

"To save him."

"Maybe."

She gave him a furious look.

"Harlan has a tracker on Catherine's original phone. You need to destroy it."

Catherine took the device out.

"Already off."

"Off isn't enough."

Emily snatched it, dropped it on the tile, and crushed it under her heel.

Then she looked at Catherine.

"We have to go."

"Where?"

"Anywhere but the blue address."

Catherine's eyes narrowed.

"Why did you say that?"

Emily went pale.

Catherine had not told her about the blue mark.

David's voice came through the prepaid phone, quiet and deadly.

"Emily. How do you know about the blue address?"

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Emily stared at the phone.

The silence answered before she did.