Chapter 4 - The Ghost in the Varga House
Dante refused to explain Elena in the car.
Khloe refused to speak to him.
By midnight, the penthouse felt less like protection and more like a beautifully furnished prison.
She stood at the windows overlooking Elliott Bay while Dante’s doctor stitched his shoulder in the next room.
Paulie approached.
“You hit him.”
Khloe kept staring outside.
“He deserved it.”
“I’ve known Dante nineteen years.”
“And?”
“I’ve never seen anybody slap him and remain standing.”
“That supposed to comfort me?”
Paulie smiled faintly.
“No. I think he likes you.”
Khloe turned.
“Don’t.”
“I didn’t say romantically.”
“You were thinking it loudly.”
Paulie laughed.
Then his expression became serious.
“Elena was his wife. Marco was his younger brother. They died the same night.”
Khloe remembered Dante saying Victor had killed his brother.
“What happened?”
“Car bomb.”
Her anger weakened.
“Dante was driving?”
Paulie nodded.
“He got out. They didn’t.”
That explained the scar.
And perhaps everything else.
Dante appeared in the doorway.
“That’s enough, Paulie.”
Paulie left.
Khloe faced him.
“You could have told me.”
“I could have.”
“Did you kill Elena?”
“No.”
“Did you cause her death?”
A long silence.
“Yes.”
Khloe waited.
Dante walked to the window.
“Marco discovered Victor Kane was using legitimate medical shipments to move weapons through Seattle. Elena found financial records linking Evergreen to those shipments.”
“Like mine.”
“Yes.”
“They were going to expose him?”
“We all were.”
His jaw tightened.
“I changed the meeting location at the last minute. Victor intercepted the message. The bomb was meant for me.”
“And they got into your car.”
“Yes.”
Khloe’s anger dissolved into something heavier.
Dante had survived seven years carrying a sentence nobody else had imposed.
She understood that kind of prison.
Jared had hurt her.
But long after she escaped him, his voice remained.
You’re stupid.
You’re unstable.
Nobody will believe you.
Sometimes the worst abuser was the echo left behind.
Khloe moved beside Dante.
“It wasn’t your fault he planted the bomb.”
Dante looked at her.
“I changed the location.”
“He planted the bomb.”
Dante said nothing.
The next morning, Khloe insisted on retrieving the Evergreen records herself.
Dante objected.
She won.
Barely.
They drove to a small self-storage facility north of downtown.
Khloe opened unit 317.
Dante stared at the boxes.
“You hid fourteen million dollars of criminal evidence beside Christmas decorations?”
“Nobody looks inside Christmas decorations in April.”
She removed a battered artificial-tree box.
Inside was a flash drive.
Dante almost smiled.
Then Paulie’s voice came through his earpiece.
“Dante.”
Everything changed.
“Down!”
Dante tackled Khloe behind stacked boxes as gunfire ripped through the metal door.
Khloe screamed.
Dante drew a pistol.
Shots thundered.
Metal screamed.
Then silence.
Paulie shouted from outside.
“Clear!”
Dante rose.
Khloe remained frozen.
Someone had known where she hid the drive.
Only two people had ever known.
Khloe.
And—
“No.”
Dante looked at her.
“What?”
Khloe stood slowly.
“My sister.”
Dante’s expression sharpened.
“Where is she?”
“Portland.”
“When did you last speak?”
“Yesterday.”
Dante handed the drive to Paulie.
“Call her.”
Khloe dialed.
No answer.
Again.
Nothing.
On the fourth attempt, someone picked up.
Khloe whispered, “Maya?”
A man answered.
“Hello, Khloe.”
Jared.
Her knees nearly failed.
“You said you’d leave her alone.”
“I lied.”
“Where is she?”
“Victor wants the drive.”
Khloe looked at Dante.
Jared continued.
“Midnight tomorrow. Pier 46. You bring it alone.”
The call ended.
Khloe turned on Dante.
“I’m going.”
“No.”
“She’s my sister.”
“And Victor will kill both of you.”
“I don’t care.”
“I do.”
The words stopped her.
Dante seemed equally surprised that he had said them.
Khloe stared at him.
His voice lowered.
“That complicates things.”
“What?”
“You.”
For one second, everything around them disappeared.
Then Paulie interrupted.
“We have another problem.”
He held up the flash drive.
“It’s encrypted.”
Khloe nodded.
“I know.”
“Password?”
“I don’t have it.”
Dante frowned.
“Then who does?”
“My father created the backup before he died.”
Dante stared.
Khloe continued.
“He told me the password was hidden somewhere I’d understand when I needed it.”
Paulie exhaled.
“Fantastic.”
Dante’s phone rang.
He answered.
Listened.
His face hardened.
“What?”
He disconnected.
“The police found Dennis Wolfe.”
Khloe’s stomach sank.
“Dead?”
“Yes.”
“Where?”
Dante looked directly at her.
“In your apartment.”
May you like
And beside Wolfe’s body, police had found the murder weapon.
Registered to Khloe Bennett.
