Chapter 3 - The Man Outside B17
I did not move.
“Mom?”
Mark knocked again.
“How did you know I was here?” I called.
“Open the door.”
“No.”
His tone hardened.
“This isn’t funny.”
“I’m not laughing.”
I slipped the flash drive into my coat pocket and pushed the trust folder beneath the passenger seat.
Dana was still on the phone.
“Do not open that door,” she whispered.
Mark rattled the handle.
“Mom, I know Dad left instructions.”
“How?”
No answer.
That was answer enough.
“Mark, step away from the door.”
“Listen to me. Dad owed dangerous people money.”
“And you’re suddenly worried about me?”
“I’m worried you’ll make a mistake.”
Dana whispered, “There is an interior latch on the rear wall. Robert installed it. It opens into the neighboring unit.”
I stared toward the back of B17.
Behind a shelf of old tires was a narrow steel panel.
Of course there was.
Robert had always loved ridiculous contingency plans.
I moved quietly.
“Mom,” Mark called. “Lucas is on his way.”
That frightened me more than the banging.
I pushed the shelf aside and found the latch.
Before opening it, I looked back at the blue Ford.
Twenty-seven years.
And apparently I had only known half of my husband.
I slipped through the panel into B18.
Dana stayed on the line.
“Walk out the far door. My office is twelve minutes away.”
“What about the car?”
“Leave it.”
“What about Mark?”
“Let him think he scared you off.”
I stepped into the corridor.
Then I heard another voice from B17.
Lucas.
“He took the drive, right?”
Mark answered.
“No. She has it.”
My breath stopped.
May you like
Lucas cursed.
Then he said, “If Mom opens those files, she’ll know about Dad’s second will.”
