Chapter 9 — No More Running

“You have somewhere else to go,” Jericho said.

We were alone in his office.

Outside, Mateo was assembling the team. The lawyer had left with the evidence. A new set of guards stood at the doors.

I looked at the account documents spread across the desk.

“I’m not going.”

“You could.”

“So could you.”

His expression hardened.

“My daughter is on that ship.”

“I know.”

“Then you understand why this isn’t the same choice.”

I stood.

“Don’t tell me I can leave as though Rosie is only someone I’m paid to watch.”

“That isn’t what I meant.”

“It’s what you said.”

He looked away.

I waited.

Finally, he turned back.

“I’ve asked too much of you already.”

“You offered me a job. Celeste did the rest.”

“I brought you into this house.”

“And now we know what was happening inside it.”

His uninjured hand rested on the desk.

I could see how tired he was.

He had been awake before the oceanarium. He hadn’t slept since.

Neither had I.

“I’m coming because she needs the person who can complete the authorization,” I said. “And because I want Rosie back. Both things are true.”

Jericho studied me.

Then he nodded.

“All right.”

“Good. Now we need to talk about what happens if she separates us.”

Mateo spread the vessel layout across the conference table.

The ship was an older cargo carrier with a raised bridge, narrow interior stairs, and several spaces that didn’t appear in the photographs Celeste had sent.

He pointed to the upper deck.

“Her picture was taken here.”

“How do you know?” I asked.

“The window frames. The emergency panel. They match the bridge.”

Jericho leaned over the plan.

“Access?”

“Two internal stairways. Exterior steps on the starboard side. She’ll choose where we board.”

“What about your team?”

“Separate approach. They won’t move until we have a reason to believe Rosie can be reached without crossing a line of fire.”

I studied the picture again.

The console beneath which Rosie had been sitting.

The heavy door.

A red handle beside it.

“What does that do?”

“Emergency isolation,” Mateo said. “Some areas can be closed off in a fire.”

“Does it separate the whole room?”

“Not necessarily. We’ll need to see the actual arrangement.”

I marked it anyway.

Anything Rosie could reach mattered.

Jericho noticed.

“We’re not asking her to help.”

“No,” I said. “We’re noticing where she can get out of the way.”

His eyes stayed on the mark.

Then he nodded.

The specialist joined us by a secure call.

The evidence had reached the investigators. The account provider had acknowledged the urgent access dispute.

When I restored authorization, the system would allow the next stage to begin.

The coercion report would then support the hold already being prepared.

“Celeste may see a delay,” the specialist warned.

“How long?”

“I can’t promise.”

“Then I’ll need a reason for it.”

“You’re restoring an old authorization on a system that has changed. A delay would be plausible.”

I wrote it down.

Celeste knew I had designed the original structure.

She also knew I had been away for five years.

For once, the years she stole from me might give me something useful.

Mateo’s phone rang.

He listened, asked two questions, and ended the call.

“The vessel has changed its position.”

Jericho straightened.

“Leaving?”

“Not yet. But it’s farther from the original coordinates, and there’s another boat alongside.”

“What kind?”

“Fast. Small crew.”

Celeste had an exit.

Our initial plan had assumed she would remain aboard until the money moved.

That assumption was gone.

“We need to keep her at the terminal,” I said.

Jericho looked at me.

“How?”

“Make her believe leaving early risks losing access.”

“You can do that?”

“I can tell her the truth carefully.”

Mateo folded the vessel plan.

“We move now.”

I went upstairs to change.

Dark trousers.

Shoes that wouldn’t slip.

A shirt without loose cuffs.

I looked at myself in the mirror while fastening the protective vest.

Five years ago, Celeste had handed me clothes and told me what name to use.

That night, I had followed every instruction.

Now I chose what I could move in.

I chose what I carried.

The storage card remained with the lawyer. The recorder had been copied and secured.

In my pocket, I placed Rosie’s paper rabbit.

Then I took a blank sheet from her schoolroom and wrote a statement.

My real name.

My assumed name.

What Celeste had told me five years earlier.

What I had witnessed at the oceanarium.

What she was demanding now.

I signed it.

Not because I believed I would die.

Because I didn’t intend to let her speak for me if I couldn’t speak for myself.

When I came downstairs, Jericho was waiting near the terrace doors.

I gave the statement to Mateo.

“Add it to the other evidence.”

He read the first line and nodded.

Jericho watched him leave.

Then he looked at me.

“You’re using Nora.”

“In the statement.”

“Do you want me to?”

I considered the question.

“No. Not yet.”

“All right.”

He didn’t ask me to explain.

We walked onto the terrace.

The sky was pale over the bay. Boats moved in the distance, going about mornings that had nothing to do with ours.

Jericho stood beside me.

His dressed wound was hidden beneath a dark shirt.

“Does your arm hurt?”

“Yes.”

“Thank you for finally admitting it.”

“I assumed you’d already noticed.”

“I notice plenty.”

He turned toward me.

“I’m beginning to understand that.”

For a moment, the silence wasn’t frightening.

Then he said, “If something goes wrong, you leave with Rosie.”

“We already agreed.”

“I need to hear it again.”

“I’ll get her out.”

“And yourself.”

“Yes.”

He looked down at my hand.

I realized I was crushing the edge of the paper rabbit inside my pocket.

He covered my fingers with his.

“Lennox.”

I looked up.

“When this is over, I want you to stay.”

I could have made a joke.

I had used jokes to keep him at a manageable distance since the first morning in his office.

This time, I didn’t.

“As what?”

His eyes held mine.

“Someone who belongs here because she chooses to.”

“That isn’t a job description.”

“I’m not offering you a job.”

The wind moved between us.

I thought about him holding Rosie through the storm.

His willingness to release evidence that might damage his own empire.

The way he had stopped when I asked him not to touch me.

The way he had asked what I needed.

“I don’t know how to do this,” I said.

“Neither do I.”

“You’re supposed to be more confident.”

“I’m confident about a great many things.”

“Just not me?”

He stepped closer.

“Especially not you.”

I touched his face.

He went still beneath my hand.

Then I kissed him.

For a second, he didn’t move.

Then his arm came around my waist, careful and firm, and he kissed me back.

There was nothing cautious about his mouth.

Only the hand at my back, giving me room to pull away.

I didn’t.

When we finally separated, his forehead rested against mine.

“I need you alive,” he said.

“I need the same from you.”

Footsteps sounded behind us.

Mateo stopped at the terrace door.

“Celeste is calling.”

Rosie appeared on the screen.

She looked exhausted.

Her hair had come loose, and there was a crease on her cheek from sleeping against something hard.

“Lennox?”

“I’m here.”

“Mommy says you have to hurry.”

“We’re coming.”

She glanced to the side.

Someone told her to keep speaking.

“I didn’t mean to make you sad.”

My throat tightened.

“You didn’t.”

“Even with the blue crayon?”

“Especially with the blue crayon.”

Celeste took the phone.

Her expression changed when she saw me beside Jericho.

“You look comfortable.”

“Show me Rosie again,” he said.

“You’ve seen her.”

“Celeste.”

“She stays well as long as you cooperate.”

I leaned closer.

“The recovery may take time. Your system has changed.”

“You built it.”

“Five years ago. If you rush me through a verification step, you could lock the account.”

She studied me.

I let her.

“You’ll have the time you need,” she said. “Not a minute more.”

The call ended.

Mateo showed us the new coordinates.

The second boat was still alongside the vessel.

Jericho picked up the ledger.

I took my bag.

At the dock, he offered his hand to help me into the launch.

I stepped aboard.

For the first time in five years, I wasn’t leaving because someone had frightened me into running.

I was going toward the person who had done it.

And I intended to bring Rosie home.