Chapter 4 - THE SECRET BENEATH THE STARS
Delaney had not thought about her father in eleven years.
Not properly.
There were fragments.
A beard scratching her cheek.
A red thermos.
A cheap telescope held together with silver tape.
A voice pointing toward the sky.
“Count the stars you can see, Laney.”
“That’s impossible.”
“Good. Impossible keeps people humble.”
Thomas Mercer disappeared when Delaney was six.
Her mother said he had left.
Later, she said he was dead.
Delaney eventually learned not to ask which version hurt less.
But Melissa’s letter had used a phrase only three people would have understood.
Where your father taught you to count stars.
There was one place.
She waited until midnight.
Luca remained hospitalized under guard.
Marco had assigned two men to watch her.
Rosa fell asleep watching an old detective show.
At 12:38, Delaney climbed from her bedroom window.
She landed in a flower bed.
“You could simply use the front door.”
Delaney froze.
Marco stood beneath a tree holding coffee.
“You’re terrible at sleeping.”
“So are you.”
“Where are you going?”
“Nowhere.”
“You’re wearing three layers and carrying bolt cutters.”
She looked down.
“Fashion.”
Marco sighed.
“Luca said if you tried escaping, I’m supposed to follow at a respectful distance.”
“That’s creepy.”
“His exact prediction.”
She considered running.
Marco tossed her a car key.
“What’s this?”
“Vehicle.”
“I know what keys are.”
“Then we’re making progress.”
“No guns.”
“Fine.”
“No tracking me.”
“No.”
“You answered too fast.”
“It has a GPS system.”
“I knew it.”
“You can walk twenty-two miles if you prefer.”
Ten minutes later, Delaney sat in the passenger seat.
Marco drove.
The destination was an old park north of the city.
Her father used to bring her there because light pollution was lower near the reservoir.
They parked beside an abandoned visitor center.
Delaney walked toward a hill topped by a concrete observation platform.
Marco stayed behind.
She knelt beside an old metal bench.
Thomas had carved three stars into the underside once while Melissa yelled at him for vandalism.
Delaney ran her fingers along the rust.
Still there.
She searched beneath the bench.
Nothing.
Her chest sank.
Then she remembered.
“Count the stars you can see.”
She looked up.
The observation platform had a metal plate showing constellations.
Ursa Major.
Cassiopeia.
Polaris.
As a child, her father made a game from counting engraved stars.
Seven.
Five.
One.
Seven-five-one.
Delaney walked to locker 751 inside the abandoned visitor center.
Padlocked.
Bolt cutters.
Snap.
Inside sat a waterproof container.
Marco approached only when she called.
Delaney opened it.
Documents.
A hard drive.
Photographs.
And a notebook.
Melissa’s handwriting.
The first page listed dates, city contracts, and companies.
One name appeared repeatedly.
HARBOR LIGHT FOUNDATION.
Another:
CALEB CALDWELL.
Deputy Mayor.
Then:
RENATO RALDI.
Luca’s uncle.
And finally:
ADRIAN VOSS.
Marco exhaled.
“This could bury half the city.”
Delaney looked at him.
“People keep saying that word.”
“What?”
“Bury.”
He almost apologized.
Then both heard tires.
Marco turned.
Three vehicles entered the parking lot.
“Get in the car.”
Delaney grabbed the box.
“No.”
“Now.”
Men emerged.
Not police.
Marco drew his gun.
“You promised no guns.”
“You said no guns.”
“That’s not how agreements work.”
He pushed her behind the visitor-center wall.
Shots cracked.
Concrete chipped above Delaney’s head.
She crouched.
Marco returned fire.
“We need the back exit.”
“There isn’t one.”
“How do you know?”
“My dad used to bring me here.”
Another shot shattered a window.
Delaney scanned the room.
Old exhibits.
Storage door.
Roof access.
“Actually…”
She ran toward the stairs.
Marco followed.
“That is not a back exit.”
“Trust me.”
“I’ve known you one day.”
“Then lower your standards.”
They reached the roof.
A maintenance ladder descended the far side to a drainage channel.
Delaney climbed.
Marco followed.
They reached the reservoir trail and ran.
Behind them, gunmen entered the building.
Delaney clutched the hard drive beneath her jacket.
“Car’s the other way.”
“I know.”
“Your plan?”
“Boat dock.”
“What boat?”
“The one we’re stealing.”
Marco stared.
“Luca is going to like you.”
“That might be the meanest thing anyone’s said to me.”
They reached the water.
Three small fishing boats sat locked along the dock.
Delaney grabbed an oar.
Marco pointed.
“That one has keys.”
“How?”
“Fishermen.”
“That explains nothing.”
“It explains everything.”
They jumped aboard.
Marco started the engine.
Gunmen appeared on shore.
Bullets struck water.
“Down!”
Delaney flattened herself.
The boat roared away.
One man fired again.
Marco jerked.
Delaney saw blood.
“You’re hit.”
“Shoulder.”
“That counts.”
“Drive.”
“What?”
“Drive!”
She took the controls.
Behind them, another boat started.
Delaney stared.
“They’re following.”
Marco pressed his hand to the wound.
“Can you lose them?”
“No.”
“You drove into armed men this morning.”
“Different skill set.”
“You’re having an unusually specific week.”
Despite herself, she laughed.
Then she saw a narrow marsh channel.
Her father had taken her through it once.
Motorboats could pass.
Barely.
“Hold on.”
She turned sharply.
The pursuing boat followed.
Tall reeds swallowed them.
The channel split.
Delaney chose left.
Then right.
Then a nearly invisible opening.
The second boat tried to follow and struck submerged timber.
Its engine screamed.
Stopped.
Delaney kept going.
Ten minutes later, she pulled behind an old fishing pier.
Marco looked impressed.
“Your father teach you that?”
“Yes.”
“Good man?”
Delaney stared ahead.
“I don’t remember.”
Marco said nothing.
They called Luca.
He answered from the hospital.
“Where are you?”
Marco winced.
“Technically?”
Luca’s voice became dangerous.
“Marco.”
“We found Melissa’s evidence.”
Silence.
“What evidence?”
“Everything.”
Delaney took the phone.
“Your uncle, Caldwell, Adrian. Harbor Light.”
Luca breathed slowly.
“Listen carefully. Do not take that evidence to police.”
“Why?”
“Because Caldwell controls the task force investigating this morning.”
“That seems bad.”
“It is.”
Marco leaned against the dock.
Luca continued.
“Come to me.”
Delaney looked toward the city skyline.
“What if I don’t?”
“Then send copies to three newspapers and a federal prosecutor.”
She blinked.
“You’d let me?”
“It’s your mother’s evidence.”
“Some of it destroys your family.”
“I know.”
Delaney studied the phone as though she could see him.
Her mother’s letter returned to her.
If Luca helps you without asking what he gets in return…
She swallowed.
“We’re coming.”
Before disconnecting, Luca said one more thing.
“Delaney.”
“What?”
“Your father’s name was Thomas Mercer?”
Her stomach tightened.
“Yes.”
Silence.
Then Luca spoke.
“I knew him.”
The entire world seemed to tilt.
“You what?”
“Come to the hospital.”
“How?”
“Because Thomas Mercer didn’t abandon you.”
Delaney could barely breathe.
Luca finished quietly.
May you like
“He worked for my father.”
And with that, the dead man Delaney had spent eleven years trying to forget became part of the same mystery that had already swallowed everyone else she loved.
