Chapter 2 - Floor Thirty-Eight
Sterling Harbor Tower officially had fifty-two floors.
According to the directory, floor thirty-eight belonged to an investment firm called Hawthorne Maritime Holdings.
I had cleaned their offices twice.
Empty desks.
Locked cabinets.
No employees.
I had assumed rich people paid rent for strange reasons.
Apparently, I had underestimated how strange.
Raff leaned against the elevator wall while I wrapped his shoulder with gauze from the basement first-aid kit.
“You need stitches.”
“Later.”
“Your arm may be broken.”
“Probably.”
“You say that like you misplaced your car keys.”
“I’ve had worse nights.”
I tightened the bandage.
He winced.
“Good.”
He looked at me.
“Was that necessary?”
“No.”
For the first time, he actually smiled.
Then the elevator stopped.
Thirty-eight.
The doors opened onto darkness.
Raff swiped his card.
Lights appeared one by one.
There were no investment offices.
The walls behind the reception area had opened.
Beyond them was a security room filled with monitors and locked cabinets.
I stared.
“What is this?”
“My family’s archive.”
“Your family?”
He looked at me.
“My full name is Raphael Caruso.”
I knew the name.
Everyone in Baltimore knew it.
Caruso shipping.
Caruso restaurants.
Caruso construction.
And the whispers that followed all three.
“You’re mafia.”
“I prefer businessman.”
“I prefer liar.”
“Fair.”
I almost laughed.
Then I remembered Aaron.
“Why did my husband know about this place?”
Raphael’s expression changed.
“I don’t know yet.”
He approached a computer.
A password screen appeared.
He typed something.
ACCESS DENIED.
Again.
ACCESS DENIED.
Then I saw a small metal drawer beside the desk.
The symbol from the card was engraved on it.
Three lines inside a circle.
“Aaron drew that.”
Raphael examined it.
“That isn’t our family symbol.”
“What?”
“It’s an internal security designation.”
“For what?”
“Witness files.”
My stomach tightened.
Raphael opened the drawer with his card.
Inside were dozens of encrypted drives.
One slot was empty.
The label beneath it read:
MERCER, A.
I stopped breathing.
Raphael whispered, “Jesus.”
“What?”
He turned toward me.
“Your husband worked here.”
“No.”
“Delia—”
“He repaired elevators.”
Raphael pointed toward the empty slot.
“He had archive clearance.”
“He fixed elevators.”
“Then somebody gave an elevator mechanic access to my family’s most protected records.”
A sound came from the hallway.
Raphael immediately killed the monitor.
Voices.
Dwight.
And another man.
“Check the archive.”
Raphael pulled me behind a partition.
My heart hammered.
“You said no weapons,” I whispered.
“I didn’t say that.”
“I’m saying it now.”
He looked at my stomach.
Then nodded.
“Stay here.”
“Absolutely not.”
“Delia.”
“I just dragged a bleeding mafia boss thirty-eight floors. You don’t get to start giving me orders now.”
Something almost amused crossed his face.
Then Dwight entered.
He was accompanied by Sterling Harbor’s security chief, Calvin Reed.
Calvin locked the door behind them.
Dwight said, “She saw the card.”
Calvin’s face hardened.
“Then she doesn’t leave.”
My hand instinctively covered my stomach.
Raphael stepped from the shadows.
“Interesting.”
Both men froze.
Raphael looked terrible.
Bloody shirt.
Broken arm.
But somehow he controlled the room.
Calvin whispered, “Mr. Caruso.”
“Tell me about Aaron Mercer.”
Nobody answered.
Raphael took one step closer.
“I’m having a difficult evening, gentlemen. Don’t make it longer.”
Dwight looked at me.
“Your husband should’ve minded his business.”
I moved before I thought.
I slapped him.
Hard.
His head snapped sideways.
Raphael raised an eyebrow.
I pointed at Dwight.
“Seven months. I spent seven months believing Aaron died because some drunk coward drove away.”
Dwight touched his cheek.
“He found something.”
“What?”
Calvin interrupted.
“Shut up.”
Dwight laughed nervously.
“Why? Caruso already knows.”
“Knows what?” Raphael asked.
Dwight looked at him.
“Your uncle was stealing from you.”
Raphael became completely still.
“Which uncle?”
“Victor.”
The name landed heavily.
Dwight continued.
“Mercer found the transfers while repairing the elevator control network. Victor was using the building’s freight system to move documents and cash.”
My voice shook.
“So Aaron reported it?”
“To someone.”
Raphael said, “To me.”
I looked at him.
“What?”
“I received an anonymous message seven months ago. It said someone inside Sterling Harbor was laundering money through Hawthorne Maritime.”
His face tightened.
“I never knew who sent it.”
Calvin suddenly reached toward his jacket.
Raphael reacted.
So did I.
I grabbed the nearest thing available.
A metal trash can.
I slammed it into Calvin’s arm.
He crashed against the desk.
Raphael stared at me.
“What?”
I snapped.
“I clean offices. I know where everything is.”
An alarm began screaming.
Dwight had hit a panic button.
Raphael looked toward the door.
“We have about sixty seconds.”
“For what?”
“Before Victor’s people arrive.”
He grabbed one of the drives.
Then he looked at the empty slot labeled MERCER.
“No.”
I said.
“What?”
Raphael stared at the slot.
“If Aaron removed his drive…”
He turned toward me.
May you like
“…he may have hidden it somewhere only you could find.”
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