Chapter 3 - THE GIRL IN ROOM 214
Z
Her name was Lily Shaw.
Eight years old.
Brown hair.
Asthma.
Loved astronomy.
Hated tomatoes.
And according to Nathan, she had been staying for three days at the same roadside motel where Eleanor had worked before becoming Gabriel Moretti’s unwilling fiancée.
Gabriel learned all of that in less than sixty seconds while Marco organized vehicles.
“What kind of man gives evidence against the Chicago mob to an eight-year-old?” Gabriel asked.
Nathan looked furious.
“I didn’t give it to her.”
“You just said—”
“Eleanor hid it with her.”
Gabriel turned.
Eleanor stood in the doorway on one bare foot, her wedding dress gathered in both hands.
Rosa was behind her carrying the abandoned heels.
Gabriel’s anger changed direction.
“You’re supposed to be sitting.”
“My niece is missing.”
“You can barely walk.”
“I can barely walk slowly.”
She came into the room.
Nathan rushed toward her.
“You should have told me.”
“You were being watched.”
“And Lily wasn’t?”
“That was the point. Julian’s people thought she was with your ex-wife in Indiana.”
Nathan stared at her.
“She’s at the Prairie Star?”
Eleanor nodded.
Room 214.
Gabriel disliked the name immediately.
The Prairie Star Motor Lodge stood beside Interstate 55 beneath a broken blue-and-yellow sign promising FREE HBO and WEEKLY RATES.
Gabriel arrived fourteen minutes later with enough armed security to invade a small country.
Eleanor arrived beside him.
He had argued.
She had ignored him.
Finally Rosa produced a pair of hotel slippers from the cathedral and Eleanor climbed into the SUV.
Now Gabriel stood beneath cold rain staring at the motel where his bride had apparently hidden evidence capable of destroying part of his organization.
“This was your workplace?” he asked.
“Seven years.”
“Why?”
“It paid rent.”
“You could have done something else.”
Eleanor glanced at him.
“So could you.”
Marco coughed into his fist.
Gabriel almost smiled.
Almost.
They entered through the lobby.
The clerk jumped from his chair when Gabriel walked in.
Then he saw Eleanor.
“Ellie?”
“Hi, Tom.”
The young man looked at the wedding dress.
“Are you getting married?”
“Long story.”
He looked at Gabriel.
“Is that the guy?”
“Unfortunately.”
Gabriel turned his head.
Eleanor said, “Focus.”
Room 214 was on the second floor.
The door was closed.
No forced entry.
No noise.
Nathan reached for it.
Gabriel stopped him.
“Marco.”
Marco checked the frame.
Then the lock.
“Clear from here.”
Eleanor stepped forward.
“She won’t open for strangers.”
Gabriel glanced at her injured ankle.
“She won’t open for you if someone is inside holding a gun.”
Eleanor looked him in the eye.
“You want to argue or find Lily?”
Gabriel stepped aside.
She knocked three times.
Pause.
Twice.
“Moonbeam?”
Nothing.
Then a tiny voice.
“Aunt Ellie?”
Nathan nearly collapsed.
Eleanor pressed her forehead against the door.
“Open up, honey.”
The chain slid.
The door opened two inches.
A brown eye appeared.
Then Lily threw herself into Eleanor’s arms.
Eleanor gasped from the pain but held her anyway.
Nathan fell to his knees beside them.
Gabriel looked away.
Family reunions made him uncomfortable.
He understood loyalty better when nobody cried.
Lily eventually noticed him.
She froze.
“You’re the bad man.”
Marco became extremely interested in the parking lot.
Gabriel looked at Eleanor.
She looked innocent.
“I never said that.”
Lily pointed at him.
“Dad did.”
Nathan closed his eyes.
Gabriel crouched.
“Your dad and I disagree about some things.”
“Are you a criminal?”
Eleanor whispered, “Lily.”
“What? He looks like one.”
Gabriel considered the black suit, armed men and cathedral bride.
“Reasonable observation.”
Lily looked at him carefully.
Then smiled.
“Okay.”
Apparently the interrogation was complete.
“Where’s the box?” Eleanor asked.
Lily climbed onto the bed and pulled a plastic telescope case from beneath it.
Gabriel raised an eyebrow.
“Subtle.”
“She’s eight,” Eleanor said.
Inside the telescope case sat a flash drive wrapped in a sock.
Nathan pointed.
“That’s it.”
Marco took the drive.
Gabriel stopped him.
“No networked computers.”
Marco nodded.
“I’ll use the clean laptop.”
They set it on the room’s small table.
The first files were exactly what Nathan described.
Payment schedules.
Shell companies.
Names.
Dates.
Photographs.
Gabriel’s stomach tightened as folder after folder opened.
Someone had used Moretti Logistics trucks to move young women between Illinois, Wisconsin and Michigan.
Not drugs.
Not weapons.
People.
Beside him Eleanor became perfectly still.
“There,” she said.
A spreadsheet.
Bluebird Holdings.
Payments originating from eleven Moretti-linked companies.
Authorized by J. Cross.
Julian.
Marco swore.
Nathan whispered, “Keep scrolling.”
They did.
Another name appeared.
D. Vance.
Then another.
Anthony Moretti.
Gabriel’s uncle.
Dead six years.
Then a name that made Gabriel’s blood freeze.
Lucia Moretti.
His mother.
Eleanor looked at him.
“Wasn’t that your mother?”
“Yes.”
Payments had gone into an account carrying Lucia’s name for three years after her death.
Gabriel stared.
Someone had been laundering money through a dead woman.
His dead woman.
His mother, who had survived his father.
His mother, who had tied blue ribbons when she could not speak.
Gabriel closed the laptop.
“Julian built this before I took over.”
Nathan shook his head.
“Look at the dates. It kept growing after.”
“I know.”
“So you knew?”
Gabriel turned slowly.
Nathan stepped backward.
Eleanor moved between them.
Not because she thought Gabriel would hit Nathan.
Because she did not know whether he would.
Gabriel noticed.
It bothered him more than it should have.
“No,” he said. “I didn’t know.”
“Then somebody close to you did.”
“Yes.”
Eleanor studied him.
“And you’re going to kill them?”
Gabriel looked at Lily.
“No.”
Eleanor waited.
Gabriel continued.
“I’m going to find everyone involved.”
“That wasn’t my question.”
“No.”
It was the first lie he told her.
She knew it.
He knew she knew it.
But Lily was watching.
A car engine roared outside.
Marco turned toward the window.
“Down!”
Gunfire shattered the glass.
Gabriel reached Eleanor first.
He drove her to the carpet, covering her body with his while bullets tore through curtains and lamps.
Lily screamed.
Nathan dragged his daughter behind the bed.
Marco’s men returned fire.
The attack lasted eleven seconds.
Then silence.
Gabriel lifted his head.
“You hit?”
Eleanor shook beneath him.
“No.”
He looked down.
A line of blood crossed her cheek.
Glass.
He touched it with his thumb.
Her eyes met his.
“You?”
“I’m fine.”
“You’re bleeding.”
Gabriel looked at his shoulder.
A bullet had grazed his jacket and cut the skin beneath.
“Not important.”
“It’s important if it’s yours.”
The words landed strangely.
Then Marco shouted from the hallway.
“One vehicle leaving northbound!”
Gabriel rose.
“No chase.”
Marco stared.
“They just shot at you.”
“They wanted us chasing.”
Gabriel looked toward the parking lot.
A second vehicle could be waiting.
Or explosives.
Or police.
Julian knew Moretti security procedures because Julian had written half of them.
“We move Lily first.”
Eleanor stood carefully.
Gabriel reached for her.
She hesitated.
Then accepted his arm.
It was a small thing.
Trust often was.
They moved downstairs through the rear stairwell.
Two SUVs pulled under the overhang.
Gabriel opened Eleanor’s door.
She stopped before climbing inside.
“The flash drive.”
Marco checked his pocket.
“Got it.”
“No.”
Eleanor shook her head.
“That’s the copy.”
Gabriel stared.
“What?”
She looked up at Room 214.
“I knew somebody might find it.”
Nathan blinked.
“So where is the original?”
Eleanor looked at the motel sign.
The enormous blue star flickered above them in the rain.
“When I managed nights, nobody ever climbed onto the roof.”
Gabriel followed her gaze.
“You put it in the sign?”
She gave him a tired smile.
“Julian Cross thinks I’m a motel clerk.”
Gabriel looked at her differently.
“What are you?”
Her smile disappeared.
“Someone who got tired of being underestimated.”
Across the highway, inside a parked delivery van, a camera lens turned toward them.
Gabriel did not see it.
Eleanor did.
And this time, when she grabbed his hand, she did not need a blue ribbon.
“Gabriel.”
May you like
He followed her eyes.
The van exploded.
