Chapter 4 - THREE DAYS LATER, THE SUV CAME BACK
Adrian stayed in Dutchess County.
Not because his sedan needed repair.
Claire had finished that by noon.
He stayed because somebody had stolen six years of his daughter’s life from him.
And because the black SUV appeared again at sunset.
Then vanished.
Adrian moved into a rented farmhouse five miles from Bennett Auto under a false name.
Claire hated the idea.
“You showing up is what brought this back.”
“You don’t know that.”
“I know nobody followed us for almost five years.”
“Almost?”
Claire looked away.
Adrian noticed.
“When was the last time?”
“Two years ago.”
“What happened?”
“A man sat in a truck outside Maya’s kindergarten for forty minutes.”
Adrian’s voice dropped.
“And you didn’t tell anyone?”
“I moved her to another school.”
“Claire.”
“What exactly was I supposed to do? Call you?”
“Yes.”
“I didn’t have your number.”
“You could have found me.”
Her eyes flashed.
“I found you once. Eight months pregnant. Remember how that went?”
That ended the argument.
For two days, Adrian watched.
He drove different roads.
Changed routines.
Used cash.
Bought a prepaid phone.
He did not contact Manhattan.
More importantly, he began learning his daughter.
Maya hated tomatoes but loved ketchup.
She could name twelve kinds of dinosaurs and three types of spark plugs.
She slept with the stuffed rabbit she had owned since birth.
She snorted when she laughed too hard.
She believed every old car had a personality.
And she had inherited Adrian’s inability to lose gracefully at cards.
“You cheated,” she accused during their third game of Go Fish.
“I did not.”
“You looked at my cards.”
“You held them facing me.”
“That’s basically cheating.”
Claire, washing dishes behind them, laughed.
It was the first unguarded sound Adrian had heard from her.
He looked over.
For one second, they were seven years younger.
Then headlights appeared through the kitchen window.
Claire froze.
Adrian was already standing.
A black SUV rolled past the farmhouse.
Slowly.
This time it stopped.
Maya looked toward the glass.
“Is that your friend?”
“No.”
Adrian crossed the room and pulled the curtain.
“Claire, lights off.”
She moved instantly.
The kitchen went dark.
The SUV remained outside.
Thirty seconds.
A minute.
Then it drove away.
Adrian reached for his jacket.
“No,” Claire said.
“I’m following.”
“No.”
“I need the plate.”
“There won’t be one.”
“You don’t know that.”
“I know them.”
That stopped him.
“Them?”
Claire’s face tightened.
“When I was pregnant, after the man came to your building, I thought that was the end.”
She sat down.
Maya had gone quiet.
Claire looked at her.
“Sweetheart, take your rabbit upstairs.”
“But—”
“Please.”
Maya hesitated.
Adrian crouched beside her.
“I’ll be right here.”
She searched his face.
“Promise?”
The word hit him unexpectedly.
Adrian Moretti did not make promises casually.
“Yes.”
Maya climbed the stairs.
Claire waited until her bedroom door closed.
“About a week after your security man threatened me, another vehicle followed me home.”
“The SUV?”
“Yes.”
“Same one from the shop?”
“I’m almost sure.”
“What happened?”
“They ran me off the road.”
Adrian’s expression went still.
Claire continued quickly.
“I wasn’t hurt. The baby was fine. But someone left a note beneath my windshield wiper.”
“What did it say?”
“Leave New York.”
Adrian stared at her.
“I moved to Pennsylvania for eleven months. Then Vermont. Then back here after my uncle died and left me the property.”
“And you never told anyone about the route sheet?”
“I had photographed it.”
His pulse changed.
“You still have the photograph?”
Claire nodded.
“Where?”
“Safe deposit box.”
“Which bank?”
“I’m not telling you yet.”
“Claire.”
“You don’t trust anyone. Neither do I.”
Adrian could not argue.
She continued.
“The route sheet had a handwritten notation in the corner.”
“What notation?”
“R-17.”
Adrian knew it immediately.
Russo Freight Route Seventeen.
His father had used that internal code for the emergency alternate route the night he died.
Only a handful of senior Moretti people knew it.
One of them was Samuel Russo’s father.
Sam.
Adrian rose.
Claire watched him.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
“That face is not nothing.”
Before Adrian could answer, glass exploded upstairs.
Claire screamed.
Adrian ran.
A rock had smashed through Maya’s bedroom window.
Maya crouched beside her bed, hands over her head.
Adrian crossed the room in three strides and pulled her into his chest.
“You’re okay.”
She was shaking.
“Mom!”
Claire rushed inside.
Attached to the rock was a folded paper.
Adrian removed it.
Four words.
LEAVE THE PAST BURIED.
Claire read over his shoulder.
All the blood drained from her face.
Outside, tires roared.
Adrian reached the broken window in time to see the black SUV disappearing down the lane.
He pulled out the prepaid phone.
Claire grabbed his wrist.
“Who are you calling?”
“Someone I trust.”
“You said you didn’t trust anyone.”
“I trust one thing.”
“What?”
“Patterns.”
Adrian dialed from memory.
The voice that answered was sleepy and irritated.
“Yeah?”
“Marcus.”
Silence.
Then Marcus Vale became instantly awake.
“Boss?”
“I need you to listen carefully.”
“Where are you?”
“I’m not telling you.”
Another pause.
Adrian watched Claire.
“I need three vehicles. Two men I personally approved before you ever hired them. No Moretti tracking systems. No company phones.”
Marcus did not ask why.
“When?”
“Now.”
“Where?”
“I’ll send coordinates to a location twenty miles from me.”
“Understood.”
“And Marcus?”
“Yes?”
“If Sam Russo asks where I am, what do you tell him?”
“That I haven’t heard from you.”
Adrian looked at Claire.
“And if he insists?”
Marcus’s answer came without hesitation.
“I lie better.”
Adrian ended the call.
Claire crossed her arms.
“You trust him?”
“No.”
“Comforting.”
“I trust him enough to test him.”
“What does that mean?”
Adrian walked downstairs and opened a road atlas.
He marked three routes out of Dutchess County.
Route A.
Route B.
Route C.
Claire watched.
“What are you doing?”
“Finding out who betrayed my father.”
“And how exactly does that keep Maya safe?”
His eyes lifted.
“Because whoever betrayed him is watching you now.”
Claire went pale.
Adrian tapped the map.
“Tomorrow, I tell three people three different routes.”
“You think one of them will leak it.”
“Yes.”
“And if the SUV appears?”
“Then I know which man just declared war on me.”
Upstairs, Maya began crying quietly.
Claire turned.
Adrian reached the stairs first.
Maya stood in the hallway clutching her rabbit.
“I don’t like the broken window.”
Adrian crouched.
“I know.”
“Are the bad people coming back?”
He looked at Claire.
Then at the little girl who had somehow become the most important person in his world in less than seventy-two hours.
“They might try.”
Maya swallowed.
“Are you leaving?”
“No.”
“You promise?”
Adrian took her tiny hand.
May you like
“No one is making me leave again.”
This time, he meant more than the farmhouse.
