Chapter 5 - The Girl Who Was Supposed to Be Gone
The leak wasn't one of Adrian's men.
It was a hospital security contractor.
By midnight, Marcus had identified him.
By morning, police had him in custody.
He admitted receiving five thousand dollars from Preston Hale for Nora's discharge information.
But he gave them something more valuable.
A phone number.
The number led to a motel outside Gary, Indiana.
Room 214 was empty.
Room 216 was not.
Emily Torres opened the door holding a kitchen knife.
When she recognized Nora on the video call Marcus raised toward her, the knife fell from her hand.
“Oh my God.”
Nora began crying.
“Emily.”
They stared at each other through the screen.
Alive.
Both alive.
Emily had escaped the night after Nora's fall.
She had spent three weeks hiding because Preston threatened her fourteen-year-old brother.
But she had kept records.
Photographs.
Invoices.
Voice recordings.
Enough evidence to dismantle the Hale operation.
The investigation moved quickly.
Victor Hale was arrested.
Carlo Vescari was indicted.
Gordon Pike accepted a cooperation agreement.
Only Preston remained missing.
Weeks passed.
Nora learned to walk without the walker.
Then with a cane.
Then, one cold October morning, without either.
Adrian happened to be there.
He had brought coffee.
Nora took four careful steps across her living room.
Lucy cheered like her mother had won the Olympics.
Adrian simply watched.
Nora reached the couch and turned.
“Well?”
His voice was rough.
“You did it.”
“That sounded almost emotional.”
“Don't spread rumors.”
She smiled.
Their relationship had become something neither named.
He brought groceries he pretended his housekeeper had accidentally ordered.
She sent him leftovers he pretended not to enjoy.
Lucy started drawing him into family pictures.
Always too tall.
Always wearing black.
Once with devil horns.
He framed that one.
One evening, Nora found him fixing the loose hinge on a kitchen cabinet.
“You own a shipping company.”
“Yes.”
“And apparently half of Chicago thinks you're terrifying.”
“An exaggeration.”
“You have people who could fix that.”
“Yes.”
“Then why are you doing it?”
Adrian tightened the screw.
“Because it was bothering me.”
“You don't even live here.”
He looked at her.
“That appears to be the problem.”
Silence.
Nora's heart stumbled.
Adrian put down the screwdriver.
“I shouldn't have said that.”
“Why?”
“Because you're vulnerable.”
“I'm injured. Not incapable of making decisions.”
“I know.”
“Do you?”
He moved closer.
“Nora.”
“What?”
“I think about you when I'm supposed to be thinking about work.”
Her breathing changed.
“I think about whether you've eaten. Whether Lucy remembered her inhaler. Whether your leg hurts when it rains.”
He paused.
“And I'm not accustomed to wanting ordinary things.”
“What ordinary things?”
“Dinner.”
She smiled.
“We've had dinner.”
“No.”
Adrian shook his head.
“I mean dinner where I ask you because I want to sit across from you. Not because someone is trying to kill us.”
“That would be refreshingly normal.”
“I've heard good things.”
Nora laughed.
“Okay.”
His expression changed.
“Okay?”
“Ask.”
Adrian Moretti, feared across Chicago, suddenly looked almost nervous.
“Nora Bell, would you have dinner with me?”
“Yes.”
Lucy appeared around the corner.
“Finally.”
Both adults turned.
She held a cereal bowl.
“You two are exhausting.”
Their first date was scheduled for Friday.
It never happened.
At 4:32 Friday afternoon, Nora arrived at Lucy's school.
Children streamed through the doors.
Lucy wasn't among them.
Nora waited.
Then called the teacher.
The teacher's voice became confused.
“But Lucy already left.”
“With whom?”
“A man from your family.”
Nora stopped breathing.
“I don't have any male relatives in Chicago.”
Silence.
Then the teacher whispered:
“Oh God.”
Nora's phone rang.
Unknown number.
She answered.
Preston Hale's voice came through.
“Hello, Nora.”
Her knees nearly gave way.
“Where is my daughter?”
“Safe.”
“If you hurt her—”
“I don't want Lucy.”
“What do you want?”
May you like
Preston laughed softly.
“You.”
