Chapter 11 - Three Knocks Above)
The alarm rang only twice before stopping.
Victor looked toward the mezzanine. “Find her.”
Gregory and the guard entered the freight elevator. As the doors closed, Gregory pointed at Mara. “Watch them.”
Mara waited until the elevator began to rise. Then she took a small folding knife from Naomi’s stolen coat and cut the restraints around Naomi’s wrists.
“There is a stair behind the archive wall,” she whispered. “The girl found it when I loosened her ties. I pulled the alarm to cover the sound.”
Naomi flexed her bruised hands. “Why didn’t you go with her?”
“Because Victor would know which exit she used. If I stayed, he might think she slipped past the guard.”
Victor turned from the windows. Mara stepped away before he saw the knife.
Alison sat at the table as if preparing to sign. Her heart pounded so hard she feared the transmitter would capture nothing else. Celia arranged the documents and quietly placed the three marked originals on top.
“The video must show the signer reading each agreement,” Celia said.
“The video will show what I tell it to show,” Victor replied.
“Then the bank rejects it.” Naomi moved beside Alison, disguising her freed hands beneath the table. “I am the bank’s counsel, and I am formally advising you that any signature obtained while you hold my client’s child is void.”
Victor smiled. “The bank will receive a private recording with no child, no restraints, and no objection from you.”
“You expect me to approve it?”
“I expect your credentials to approve it.”
He had planned to use Naomi’s stolen phone and access codes just as he had used Alison’s passport. The closing was not designed to persuade any witness. It was designed to manufacture them.
Above, Gregory shouted Abigail’s name in a voice that pretended concern.
Abigail crouched behind the movable archive panel, holding her breath.
She had entered the hidden stair when Mara sent the guard to fetch water. At the landing, she found two doors. One led down. The other opened into a small office overlooking the closing room. Through the glass she saw Alison below, but Gregory’s elevator arrived before she could descend.
She hid beneath a desk.
Gregory entered the office, removed his wet coat, and threw it over a chair. He checked the windows and searched a cabinet. Abigail saw the outline of his phone in the coat pocket less than an arm’s length away.
Her mother had taught her emergency calls. Press the side button five times. Stay quiet if talking is dangerous. Make sounds that help the dispatcher understand.
Abigail crawled from beneath the desk while Gregory faced the window. She reached into the coat, pressed the button five times, and felt the phone vibrate. The screen counted down silently because Gregory kept it muted.
Three.
Two.
One.
The call connected.
Abigail slid the phone back into the pocket.
Gregory turned.
She rolled behind the chair before he saw her, then slipped through the archive panel while he searched the opposite side of the room. On the stair landing, she heard a dispatcher’s tiny voice from the coat above.
She began knocking on the old metal pipe beside her.
Three knocks.
A pause.
Two knocks.
The pattern she and Alison used when Abigail woke from nightmares: I am here. Are you there?
Below, Alison heard the signal.
Victor heard it too. “What is that?”
“Old pipes,” Celia said.
Victor ordered Mara to check the rear corridor. Mara entered it and left the security door unlatched.
Outside, Vega’s tactical team had reached the stormwater spur beneath the brewery. The service hatch on Thomas’s map was buried under recent concrete, exactly as Celia warned. Officers prepared to breach it, but the sound would alert everyone inside.
Then the dispatcher traced Gregory’s emergency call to the upper floor. Through the open line she heard him ordering the guard to search the hidden stair.
Vega changed the entry point. A second team moved toward the rear security door.
In the closing room, Victor placed a separate stack of papers before Alison. “You will sign the house, the covenant, and a statement withdrawing every allegation. Your daughter walks out when the lender confirms receipt.”
“How do I know she is still here?”
“Because if she had escaped, police would already be at the door.”
Alison looked directly at the camera. “My name is Alison Mercer. My daughter and attorney are being held inside the Kestrel Brewery. Any document I sign is under duress.”
Victor crossed the room and switched off the camera.
“We can edit that,” he said.
“You can edit the video, but not what the live transmitter sent.”
The words escaped before Alison could stop them.
Victor searched the clasp of her handbag and found the first device. He crushed it beneath his shoe. Then he ran his hands along the sleeves and collar of her green dress.
Naomi moved between them. The guard returned at that moment, dragging Abigail from the rear stair.
“Mom!”
Alison started toward her, but Victor seized Abigail and held her against his side.
“Cut the building power,” he told Gregory. “Now.”
Gregory pulled a breaker lever beside the freight elevator.
Every light went out.
In the darkness, Victor pushed Abigail back toward the guard. Gregory forced Alison into the signature chair. Celia remained near the table, one hand resting on her altered notary stamp. Mara stood beside the unlatched rear corridor, waiting for the first sign that the police had reached it.
May you like
The pen touched the paper.
And Abigail screamed.
