Chapter 3 - The Spider in the Web
By 7:00 PM, the girls had fallen asleep, physically exhausted from speaking and crying for the first time in over a year. Grace sat in a rocking chair between their beds, reading a paperback by the dim light of a nightlight.
I stepped out onto the balcony overlooking the driveway and dialed Julian Vance on a burner phone.
"Dominic?" Julian answered on the second ring. "You weren't scheduled back from Queens until midnight. Is everything alright at the estate?"
"Keep your voice level," I ordered. "Where is Marcus?"
A beat of hesitation. "At the docks in Brooklyn. Overseeing the unloader shifts for the Mediterranean shipment. Why?"
"Fourteen months ago," I said, leaning against the cold stone railing, "who vetted the private security team assigned to Isabelle’s vehicle the day she took the girls to preschool?"
Julian’s breath hissed through the receiver. "Marcus did. Personally. He said he handpicked the drivers from our most loyal crew."
"Find the registration on a green Ford Econoline van," I said, every word clipped and frigid. "Look between August and October of last year. Don't use our network servers. Use an off-grid terminal. If Marcus Kane’s name, shell companies, or aliases touch that title, I want the paperwork on my encrypted drive in two hours."
"Dominic... what are you saying? Marcus has been at your side for twenty-five years."
"Just do it, Julian. And don't breathe a word to a living soul. If you do, I will assume you were sitting in the passenger seat."
I hung up before he could respond.
When I turned back into the master hallway, Grace was standing near the doorway, holding a tray with a mug of black coffee.
"They’re deep asleep," she said quietly. "You should drink this. You look like a ghost."
I took the mug, our fingers brushing briefly. A subtle current of warmth passed through the chill in my bones. "You aren't asking questions, Grace. A normal woman would have run out the front gates screaming by now."
Grace leaned against the doorframe, folding her arms. "I grew up in South Boston with three older brothers who ran with the local dock unions, Dominic. I know what men like you look like. I know what men like Marcus Kane look like, too. My eldest brother trusted the wrong partner and ended up at the bottom of the Charles River. I know betrayal when I smell it."
I studied her. Her face was serene, but there was iron in the line of her jaw. "Why did you take this job?"
"Because Mrs. Donnelly told me three little girls were dying of silence in an empty castle," Grace answered simply. "And I didn't have anywhere else to be."
Before I could answer, my phone vibrated in my pocket. A secure text from Julian:
May you like
*Green Econoline purchased under 'Apex Logistics'—a Delaware LLC registered to Marcus Kane’s brother-in-law. Dominic, he’s not at the docks. His transponder just crossed the Throggs Neck Bridge. He’s heading to your house.*
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