Chapter 6 - The Dead Man Above the Table
My father's portrait hung above the fireplace.
Alexander Hale.
Dead fourteen years.
Or so I had believed.
Marcus claimed Alexander survived the explosion that supposedly killed him.
Again.
Another Hale funeral.
Another body nobody properly identified.
I was beginning to understand that my family didn't bury people.
We buried questions.
“Where is he?”
Marcus shook his head.
“I don't know.”
“Wrong answer.”
“Kill me and you'll still know nothing.”
Grace picked up the photographs.
Her mother, Evelyn, appeared beside Alexander repeatedly.
Not romantically.
Professionally.
Ledgers showed they created a covert network inside Hale Maritime decades earlier.
But Marcus insisted it didn't begin as trafficking.
It began as extraction.
Witnesses.
Abused spouses.
Children escaping dangerous families.
People powerful men wanted silenced.
My father moved them secretly.
New identities.
New countries.
Then Victor took control.
He monetized the routes.
Protection became business.
People became cargo.
Evelyn tried to stop him.
Alexander supposedly died.
Evelyn disappeared.
Years later, Elena discovered the network.
History repeated.
“Why did Sophie fear me?”
Marcus looked uncomfortable.
“Because someone showed her videos.”
“What videos?”
“Of you.”
Executions.
Beatings.
Orders.
Pieces of my life I had kept far away from my daughter.
Real footage edited beside false footage.
Enough to make a five-year-old believe her father was a monster.
I couldn't call all of it false.
That was the worst part.
“Who showed her?”
“Victor.”
I turned away.
Grace asked:
“Where's Elena?”
Marcus looked at her.
“Missing.”
“When?”
“Six weeks ago.”
Same period when the red ship returned.
Then Marcus revealed why he had been inside my mansion.
Elena recruited him two years earlier.
He wasn't betraying me.
He was protecting Sophie.
“Then why send SHE TOLD HIM?”
“To Elena.”
My anger paused.
“You were warning her?”
“Yes.”
“Why run?”
“Because Cole arrested me.”
I looked at Cole.
He stiffened.
Marcus continued.
“Ask him why he didn't search me before locking me downstairs.”
Cole drew his weapon.
I moved first.
Not toward Marcus.
Toward Cole.
He fired.
The shot hit the railing beside me.
Marcus tackled him.
Grace screamed.
Seconds later, Cole was pinned.
I stared at the man who had guarded me for nine years.
“Who do you work for?”
Cole laughed through blood on his lip.
“Your family.”
“Which one?”
He looked toward Grace.
Then smiled.
“Ask her mother.”
A sniper round shattered the warehouse window.
Cole's head snapped sideways as glass exploded around him.
He collapsed.
Dead.
Marcus dragged Grace behind a crate.
I took cover.
The shooter fired twice more.
Then silence.
Whoever had killed Cole had prevented him from talking.
Marcus checked outside.
Gone.
I looked down at Cole.
One object had fallen from his pocket.
A child's drawing.
Sophie had drawn five people.
Mommy.
Daddy.
Sophie.
Aunt Grace.
And another woman.
I picked it up.
Grace stared.
“Why am I in that picture?”
She had never met Sophie.
At least, she claimed she hadn't.
Then I turned the paper over.
Sophie's handwriting covered the back.
AUNT GRACE DOESN'T REMEMBER ME.
Grace's face went completely blank.
Marcus whispered:
“Oh, hell.”
Grace backed away.
“What does that mean?”
Then her nose started bleeding.
She touched it.
May you like
Looked at the blood.
And collapsed.
