Chapter 1 - The Gold Watch
Adrian grabbed the boy’s wrist before he could crawl away.
The old gold watch swung from a red string against Ernesto’s sleeve.
“Where did you get this?”
Ernesto’s eyes widened.
“You’re hurting me.”
Adrian loosened his grip at once.
His right side screamed when he moved. Something inside his ribs clicked wrong, and black spots crowded the edges of his vision.
But he knew that watch.
Marcus Hale had worn it every day for twelve years.
Adrian had given it to him after Marcus took a bullet meant for him outside a hotel in Dallas.
The back was engraved with one letter.
M.
“Where is Marcus?” Adrian asked.
Ernesto looked toward the road above the bridge.
Rainwater dripped from the boy’s hair onto his cheeks.
“He told me not to follow.”
“When?”
“Last night.”
Adrian’s pulse kicked.
He remembered the river swallowing the car.
Glass breaking.
Marcus shouting his name.
Then cold.
Nothing after that.
“Was he hurt?”
Ernesto nodded.
“His head was bleeding.”
“Where did he go?”
“He ran toward the road.”
“Why?”
The boy swallowed.
“He said somebody was looking for you.”
Adrian’s hand went still.
“For me?”
Ernesto nodded again.
“He gave me the watch and said if he didn’t come back, I had to show it to Adrian Cole.”
“That’s me.”
“I know now.”
Adrian stared at him.
“You didn’t know when you pulled me out?”
Ernesto shook his head.
“You were just a man drowning.”
The answer hit harder than the pain in Adrian’s chest.
A siren sounded in the distance.
Ernesto flinched.
Adrian noticed.
“You called them?”
“No.”
“Then who did?”
The boy looked toward the slope.
A police SUV rolled to a stop above the bridge.
Two officers climbed out.
One shouted down.
“Mr. Cole?”
Adrian did not answer immediately.
How did they know he was here?
His phone had vanished with the car.
The tracking system should have died underwater.
One officer started down the embankment.
Ernesto moved closer to Adrian.
His fingers locked around the sleeve of Adrian’s ruined coat.
“That car was here before.”
Adrian turned.
“What?”
“Last night.”
The officer kept coming.
Ernesto lowered his voice.
“Not that man. The car.”
Adrian looked at the SUV.
Municipal markings.
Unit number 417.
The officer reached them and immediately keyed his radio.
“Found him. He’s alive.”
The second officer stayed near the road.
Adrian watched him bend beside the concrete barrier.
He seemed less interested in Adrian than in the mud.
The first officer crouched.
“Sir, ambulance is coming.”
Adrian forced himself upright.
“Where is my driver?”
“We haven’t recovered anyone else.”
“Then don’t say recovered.”
The officer hesitated.
Adrian pointed toward Ernesto.
“He saw him alive.”
The officer looked at the boy.
“Did you?”
Ernesto nodded.
The officer’s expression changed too quickly.
Not surprise.
Concern.
Then the second officer called down.
“Was the phone recovered?”
Adrian went cold.
Nobody had mentioned a phone.
The first officer stood.
“What?”
The second one realized his mistake.
“I mean Mr. Cole’s belongings.”
Adrian looked at Ernesto.
The boy had heard it too.
A black SUV appeared behind the ambulance.
Adrian recognized it before the door opened.
Daniel Price.
His security chief.
Daniel came down the slope fast.
“Adrian.”
Relief crossed his face.
Too much relief.
He knelt.
“Jesus Christ. We thought you were dead.”
Adrian almost believed him.
Then Ernesto gripped Adrian’s sleeve so hard his knuckles turned white.
The boy leaned close.
His voice barely carried over the rain.
“That man was here last night.”
Adrian looked at Daniel.
Daniel smiled at him.
May you like
And the mud drying along one expensive shoe was the same pale gray mud beneath the bridge.
CUT.
