Chapter 12 - The River Annex
The first gunshot came before Marcus was out of Quinn’s car.
It cracked through the sheet-metal wall of the River Annex and rolled across the empty loading yard.
Quinn shoved Marcus behind the engine block.
“Stay down.”
He stayed down for exactly one second.
A side door banged open.
Vincent fell through it.
Not ran.
Fell.
He hit one knee on the concrete, caught himself with a hand, and left a dark smear behind him.
“Vincent!” Marcus shouted.
Quinn swore and moved.
Two troopers covered the door while she reached him.
Vincent had been shot high in the shoulder. His tweed jacket was gone. His white shirt was red from collar to ribs.
He looked at Marcus and gave a small, stunned laugh.
“You came.”
“Where’s Peter?”
Vincent tried to sit straighter and failed.
“Inside.”
“Who shot you?”
“Who do you think?”
Quinn pressed gauze into the wound.
Vincent grabbed her wrist.
“He’s burning the archive.”
Smoke pushed out through a broken window on the second floor.
Marcus looked up.
The River Annex had stored paper going back to Arthur’s first quarry purchase. Original shareholder books. Old trust records. The family charter.
Everything Peter could not afford to leave behind.
“Fire department is two minutes,” Quinn said.
Vincent pulled Marcus closer.
“Susan didn’t know.”
Marcus stared at him.
“She knew enough.”
“No. The money. The retirement money. The boy. She didn’t know those.”
“You expect me to care?”
Vincent’s fingers tightened on Marcus’s sleeve.
“She wanted the sale.”
Marcus said nothing.
“She wanted Dad punished.” Vincent blinked hard. “Your father. Arthur. She wanted him to watch you lose what he meant to give you.”
“And you?”
“I wanted money.”
At least that sounded true.
“And Peter?”
Vincent looked toward the smoke.
“Peter wanted everything.”
A second shot came from inside.
Troopers moved toward the door.
Vincent started coughing.
“He has the original charter.”
Marcus looked down.
“He needs it gone. There’s a sentence after ninety.”
“What sentence?”
Vincent smiled weakly.
“You really never read anything, did you?”
Then he lost consciousness.
Quinn pointed at Marcus.
“You stay here.”
The fire alarm inside the warehouse began screaming.
Marcus watched three troopers disappear through the side door.
Then he heard another sound.
Not a shot.
Metal on metal.
Two quick.
One slow.
He stood.
Quinn heard it too.
“What was that?”
Marcus was already moving.
The sound came again from inside the loading bay.
Two quick.
One slow.
It was impossible.
Eli was at the hospital.
Arthur was at the hospital.
Marcus followed the sound through the smoke.
“Carrow!” Quinn yelled behind him.
He pushed through the side door.
Heat hit his face.
A stack of banker boxes burned near the stairs. Sprinklers had not activated. Somebody had shut the water valve.
The knocking came from behind a steel archive door.
Marcus reached it.
Locked.
“Who’s in there?”
Three knocks answered.
Two quick.
One slow.
Quinn came up beside him with a pry bar taken from the wall.
Together they forced the latch.
The door opened six inches.
Mason Harlan collapsed through it.
His hands were zip-tied behind him.
Blood ran from his scalp.
Marcus stared.
Harlan coughed smoke and tried to speak.
“Vale.”
Quinn cut the ties.
“Where is he?”
Harlan pointed toward the stairs.
“He made me drive Vincent. Said I’d be protected.”
“Why lock you in here?”
Harlan looked at Marcus.
“Because I told him I wouldn’t touch the kid.”
The words hit harder than the heat.
Marcus grabbed him by the shirt.
“What kid?”
“Eli.”
Quinn pulled Marcus off.
Harlan coughed again.
“Vale has a file on him. School. Routes. Your apartment. Everything.”
A crash came from upstairs.
Somebody ran across the metal catwalk.
Troopers shouted.
Marcus looked up.
Peter appeared through the smoke carrying a red leather ledger under one arm.
He saw Marcus.
For half a second neither man moved.
Then Peter threw the ledger over the railing.
It landed in the burning boxes.
May you like
And Peter ran.
