Chapter 2 - The Men Who Did Not Come for Julian
The first gunshot came from outside the shutters.
It struck steel.
Everyone screamed anyway.
Nolan grabbed my shoulder and dragged me behind the marble bar.
I swung at him.
“Get your hands off me.”
“I’m keeping your head attached.”
“That isn’t permission.”
He let go.
Fair.
Julian lowered himself beside us.
His breathing had changed.
Too fast.
I pressed another towel against his side.
“You need a hospital.”
“No hospital.”
“Then you need a surgeon.”
“Working on it.”
Another bullet hit the shutter.
Then silence.
The men outside were not trying to storm immediately.
They were containing exits.
That worried Nolan.
“They know the building.”
Julian looked at him.
“Who?”
“Not Bianchi.”
“How do you know?”
“Bianchi would have shot first.”
Good to know Grayport criminals had etiquette.
The restaurant manager, Elias Grant, crawled toward us.
His face was white.
“There’s a service tunnel.”
Nolan stared.
“What?”
“Wine delivery corridor. Connects to the hotel garage.”
“Who knows?”
“Staff.”
“Security?”
“Yes.”
Julian looked toward me.
“Do you?”
“I bring wine down there twice a shift.”
“Good.”
I shook my head.
“No.”
“What?”
“I’m not walking into a basement tunnel with five armed strangers because your father apparently employed my dead mother.”
Another shot struck metal.
Julian’s mouth tightened.
“Reasonable objection.”
Nolan looked personally offended by his patience.
Then Julian said:
“They’re not here for me.”
“No.”
“They could have killed me at the door.”
“Yes.”
“They waited until they saw Maya.”
“Yes.”
I looked between them.
“What happened to you before you came in?”
Julian said nothing.
Nolan did.
“Dock ambush.”
Julian turned.
“Nolan.”
“She deserves enough truth to stop fighting every person trying to keep her alive.”
“I am currently stopping your boss from bleeding to death.”
Nolan accepted the point.
Then:
“Julian met someone at Pier Twelve.”
“Who?”
“Attorney.”
“Name?”
“Samuel Kessler.”
I knew that name.
Everyone in Grayport did.
Retired federal prosecutor.
Later private defense attorney.
Represented judges, dock companies, politicians, and men whose indictments mysteriously became smaller after he entered a courtroom.
“What did Kessler want?”
Julian looked at me.
“He called yesterday.”
“About me?”
“Yes.”
My hand stopped.
“He said he had something my father left with him eighteen years ago.”
“What?”
“A sealed instruction.”
“What did it say?”
Julian reached slowly into his jacket.
Nolan moved as if to stop him.
Julian ignored him.
He removed a blood stained envelope.
The top corner had been shot through.
He gave it to me.
My name appeared on the front.
MAYA SULLIVAN
IF SHE IS FOUND BEFORE THE RESERVE IS RESTORED
My stomach tightened.
“Who wrote this?”
“My father.”
“You recognize his handwriting?”
“Yes.”
“Could it be fake?”
“Yes.”
That answer made me trust him slightly more.
I opened it carefully.
One page.
Julian,
If Evelyn Sullivan ever comes back to Grayport, protect her.
If Evelyn is dead and Maya comes instead, do not ask the girl for anything until you tell her what happened to Harbor Forty Three.
There are two keys.
You have no right to the second.
Vittorio DeLuca.
I read it twice.
“Who is Evelyn Sullivan?”
Julian stared.
“Your mother.”
“No.”
“Yes.”
“My mother’s name was Evelyn.”
“I know.”
“You said she kept books for your father.”
“She did.”
“For how long?”
“Six years.”
“That is impossible.”
“Why?”
“Because she was a nurse.”
“Later.”
I felt dizzy.
My mother had worked in hospital billing before nursing school.
That was the version I knew.
She married my father.
Moved us twice.
Never talked about Grayport.
Never talked about DeLuca.
Then Elias whispered:
“Someone’s in the kitchen.”
Nolan turned.
A metal door moved.
One of the new gunmen had entered through the loading dock.
Julian’s men spread.
I grabbed the coffee pot again.
Empty.
Useless.
I looked at Elias.
“Boiling water?”
“What?”
“Kitchen.”
He stared.
I said:
“I’m kidding.”
Mostly.
Nolan handed me a heavy flashlight instead.
“Stay behind me.”
“No.”
“Maya.”
“I know the service corridor better than you.”
That changed the plan.
We moved through the staff passage.
Julian between Nolan and another guard.
I led.
At the kitchen turn, a man stepped out with a gun.
Nolan hit his wrist into the wall.
The weapon dropped.
I kicked it beneath a refrigerator before anyone could reach.
The attacker swung at Nolan.
Julian’s second guard tackled him.
Fast.
Ugly.
Over.
Nolan pinned the man against tile.
“Who sent you?”
Silence.
He searched the man’s coat.
Wallet.
Phone.
A plastic badge.
MARROW PROTECTIVE SERVICES.
Not a gang.
Private security company.
I recognized the logo.
They handled armored cash vans and courthouse transfers.
Julian’s face changed.
“Marrow?”
Nolan did not like it either.
“Why would a licensed security company hit the dock?”
The man on the floor laughed.
“We’re not here for DeLuca.”
“Who hired you?”
Nothing.
I crouched.
“Why me?”
He looked at me.
“Because Sullivan still holds the reserve.”
“I don’t know what that means.”
His expression changed.
For the first time, he believed me.
“Oh shit.”
Julian noticed.
“What?”
The man looked toward the tunnel.
“If she doesn’t know, then someone sent us too early.”
“Who?”
He said nothing.
Then his phone buzzed.
Nolan took it.
One message.
STATUS?
Another arrived.
DO NOT HARM SULLIVAN.
BRING HER AND KEY 2.
Then:
KESSLER FAILED.
Julian went still.
“What does that mean?”
The man smiled.
“You didn’t hear?”
Nobody spoke.
He looked at Julian.
“Samuel Kessler died at Pier Twelve.”
Julian’s face hardened.
“He was alive when I left.”
“Not anymore.”
Then the man looked at me.
May you like
“And whoever killed him took Key One.”
Continue to the next part: The armed men are licensed private security contractors ordered to capture Maya alive, while the lawyer who summoned Julian has been killed and the mysterious first key is missing.
