Chapter 3 - The Man in the Hallway
Derek Sloan’s footsteps began climbing the stairs.
Heavy.
Unhurried.
Certain.
Nathan stood in the center of the apartment, listening as each step came closer.
Sarah had pushed herself upright in bed, trembling so badly that the glass of water beside her rattled against the floor.
“Don’t let him see Lily,” she whispered.
Lily was frozen near the sewing table, her small hand locked around Nathan’s fingers.
“Who is he?” Nathan asked quietly.
Sarah swallowed.
“My ex.”
“Does he have a key?”
“He used to.”
Nathan looked at the apartment door. The old lock was barely attached to the frame.
He pulled out his phone and texted Victor.
Call police. Immediate threat at 4B. Send building security.
Then he typed a second message to his assistant.
Find everything on Derek Sloan. Now.
A knock hit the door.
Not polite.
Not normal.
Three hard blows that made Lily jump.
“Sarah!” Derek called. “Open the door.”
Nathan motioned toward the bedroom.
“Lily, go sit with your mom. Lock the bedroom door.”
“But—”
“Now.”
She ran.
Nathan crossed the room and stood in front of the apartment door.
Another knock.
Then Derek’s voice changed.
“Come on, Sarah. I know you’ve got the money.”
Nathan opened the door only a few inches.
Derek Sloan was taller than Nathan expected. Broad shoulders. Shaved head. A heavy leather jacket despite the warm weather. He smelled of cigarettes and rain.
His eyes narrowed when he saw Nathan.
“Who are you?”
“Nathan Cole.”
Recognition flickered across Derek’s face.
“The building owner.”
“That’s right.”
Derek smiled without warmth.
“Then you know your tenant owes money.”
“She does not owe you anything.”
Derek leaned closer.
“You don’t know what she owes.”
Nathan held his ground.
“I know you’re not welcome here.”
Derek’s smile faded.
“This is family business.”
“No. This is my property. And you’re threatening a sick woman and a child.”
“You want to play hero, rich man?”
Nathan felt anger rise—but not the familiar, sharp anger that came from business disputes. This was colder.
More controlled.
“You have thirty seconds to leave before police arrive.”
Derek laughed.
“You think cops scare me?”
“No,” Nathan said. “But evidence might.”
For the first time, Derek’s expression shifted.
Just slightly.
Nathan had guessed correctly.
There was something Derek was afraid of.
Behind him, Sarah began coughing.
Derek tried to shove the door open.
Nathan pushed back.
The two men struggled against the old frame. Derek was strong, but Nathan had spent years learning that physical size did not always decide a fight. He drove his shoulder into the door, forced it shut, and turned the deadbolt.
Derek slammed his fist against the wood.
“You tell Sarah I’ll be back!” he shouted. “And when I come back, she gives me what she took!”
Then he ran down the hallway.
By the time building security and police arrived, he was gone.
Detective Ana Ramos took Sarah’s statement from the bedroom while officers searched the building.
Nathan stood beside the sewing machine, staring at the fabric scraps.
“What did he mean?” Ramos asked Sarah. “What did you take?”
Sarah’s hands shook.
“I used to work for a nonprofit called Mercy House,” she said. “They helped women escaping abusive situations find temporary housing.”
Nathan recognized the name.
His mother had volunteered at Mercy House years ago.
Sarah continued.
“I handled invoices and donation records. Derek was working with someone who stole money from the organization. Money meant for housing, food, and medical care.”
“How much?” Ramos asked.
“I don’t know. Hundreds of thousands, maybe more.”
“And you have proof?”
Sarah looked at Lily.
Then toward the sewing machine.
“I copied files before I left.”
Nathan’s eyes moved to the old machine.
Derek had not come for Sarah.
Not really.
He had come for whatever was hidden there.
Ramos crouched beside the table. She checked beneath the machine, the drawers, the fabric bins.
Nothing.
Then Lily spoke from the bedroom doorway.
“Mommy said not to tell.”
Sarah closed her eyes.
“It’s okay,” Nathan said gently. “You can tell Detective Ramos.”
Lily walked slowly to the machine.
She reached beneath the wooden base and pressed a hidden latch.
A small compartment opened.
Inside was a flash drive wrapped in a tiny piece of blue cloth.
Detective Ramos carefully placed it into an evidence bag.
Sarah began crying.
“It’s all there,” she said. “Bank transfers. Fake accounts. Names.”
Ramos nodded.
“This could put Derek away.”
Sarah shook her head.
“You don’t understand. He has people.”
Nathan looked at Lily.
Then at the broken lock on the door.
“I understand enough,” he said. “You won’t be staying here tonight.”
Sarah looked frightened again.
“I can’t afford a hotel.”
“You won’t need to.”
Nathan called his assistant.
“Arrange a secure suite near St. Catherine’s Hospital,” he said. “Two rooms. Food. Transportation. No one gets their location without my authorization.”
Sarah stared at him.
“You don’t have to do this.”
“No,” Nathan replied. “I do.”
That night, while Lily slept safely in a hotel bed with clean sheets and a full dinner in her stomach, Detective Ramos called Nathan.
The flash drive had revealed far more than financial records.
There were photographs.
A list of victims.
And evidence that Derek Sloan had been planning to leave the city the next morning.
But there was one detail that made Nathan’s blood run cold.
Among the files was an old photograph of Sarah standing beside a woman Nathan had not seen in more than twenty years.
His mother.
Evelyn Cole.
And written beneath the photo were the words:
May you like
Evelyn knew everything.
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