Chapter 9 - Marco's Real Target
I did not lower the flashlight.
"Name him."
Marco glanced toward the ceiling camera.
"Not with that recording."
"You control the cameras."
"Not anymore."
That answer landed wrong.
"What does that mean?"
He moved toward my laptop.
I swung the flashlight.
He caught my wrist.
Not hard enough to hurt.
Hard enough to show he could.
"Listen to me."
"Let go."
"Nathan Cole was mine."
I stopped fighting.
"What?"
"I put him at the party."
My stomach turned.
"You poisoned Ethan."
"I ordered a trace amount. Enough to trigger a positive test if someone checked, not enough to kill him."
I drove my knee toward him.
Marco twisted aside.
"I would never kill that boy."
"You put cashew on his cake."
"To make Dominic see Calderone."
I stared at him.
"Why?"
"Because Dominic ordered an audit. He was getting close to accounts I needed buried."
"So you start a war."
"A controlled one."
I laughed in his face.
"You sound insane."
"I sound alive."
He let go of my wrist.
"Calderone hits one of our trucks. We hit two of his. Federal attention moves to violence. Records disappear. People stop asking why three shipping subsidiaries lost twelve million dollars."
"And Ethan?"
His eyes dropped.
"A symbol."
I slapped him.
Harder than I had slapped Dominic.
Marco took it.
"Nathan changed the dose."
"Convenient."
"He was supposed to contaminate one edge of the frosting, then make sure Ethan never ate it."
"Lily said he was about to."
"That's why I knew someone changed the plan."
"Who?"
Marco's eyes went toward the door.
"The same person who killed Nathan before I could question him."
I thought of Harris.
The silver case.
Michael's warning.
"Dr. Harris."
Marco's mouth tightened.
"He isn't who Dominic thinks he is."
A shadow crossed beneath the door.
Marco saw it.
He pushed me down.
The window exploded.
A bullet tore through his chest.
He slammed against the dresser.
I hit the floor.
A second shot punched into the wall where my head had been.
"Stay down!"
Marco fired through the broken window.
Someone outside ran.
I crawled toward him.
Blood soaked his shirt.
"Marco."
He slid to the floor.
"Phone."
I grabbed mine and called Dominic.
Marco seized my wrist.
"No names."
"You're bleeding to death."
"No names on phone."
His grip weakened.
Dominic answered.
"Anna?"
"Staff wing. Shots fired. Marco's hit."
"Stay down. I'm coming."
The line stayed open.
Marco's breathing turned wet.
I pressed a towel against his chest.
"Who shot you?"
His eyes fought to focus.
"Not... about me."
"Who?"
"Harris..."
"Harris shot you?"
He shook his head.
His fingers dug into my arm.
"Harris... isn't... Harris."
The bedroom door burst open.
Dominic rushed in with two guards.
Marco's hand fell away.
Dominic knelt beside him.
"Marco. Stay with me."
Marco's eyes rolled toward him.
"Find... Voss."
Dominic went still.
"What did you say?"
Marco tried again.
No sound came.
A guard shouted from the hallway.
"Sir! Harris's room is empty."
Dominic looked at me.
I looked at the shattered window.
On the glass, written from the outside in red marker, were two words.
May you like
THANK MICHAEL.
