Chapter 3 - The Debt That Was Never Real
Frankie killed the garage lights.
“Three vehicles,” she whispered.
“How many people?”
“I can't see.”
“Back office. Now.”
“Stop ordering me around.”
“Frankie.”
Something in Gabriel's voice silenced her.
She moved.
The front door rattled.
A man shouted.
“Ms. Marino?”
Frankie crouched behind the office desk.
“Who are they?”
Gabriel asked.
“I'll go introduce myself.”
“Don't.”
The side entrance opened.
Frankie's hand closed around a heavy wrench.
Footsteps crossed the concrete.
Then another voice came from outside.
“Costa security!”
Everything stopped.
Frankie blinked.
Gabriel said through the phone, “Those are mine.”
“You said they weren't.”
“The first vehicles weren't.”
A scuffle of movement followed outside, but Frankie remained behind the desk until someone knocked three times.
“Ms. Marino? Marco. Penthouse.”
She recognized the voice.
Frankie opened the door.
Marco stood there.
“Where are the others?”
“Gone.”
“Who were they?”
“We're finding out.”
Twenty minutes later, Gabriel arrived personally.
Frankie stared as he entered.
“You came here?”
“My name is being used to steal property.”
“Your ego couldn't stay home?”
“My ego owns a helicopter.”
Frankie almost laughed.
Almost.
Marco approached carrying a folder recovered from one of the abandoned vehicles.
Inside were transfer papers.
Frankie's name had already been typed beneath a signature line.
Gabriel studied them.
“Prepared yesterday.”
Frankie pointed to the acquiring company.
“Bellwether Holdings.”
Gabriel looked at Marco.
“Find the owner.”
Marco nodded.
Frankie looked around.
“Where's Leo?”
Gabriel's silence answered.
“You don't know.”
“Not yet.”
“He could be hurt.”
“Yes.”
“He could be—”
“Frankie.”
She stopped.
Gabriel stepped closer.
“We're going to find him.”
“You can't promise that.”
“No.”
His honesty caught her off guard.
“I can promise that every resource I have is looking.”
Marco returned.
“Bellwether is a shell.”
“Owned by?”
“Another shell.”
Gabriel's jaw tightened.
“Keep digging.”
Frankie suddenly remembered something.
“Wait.”
She hurried into the office and opened her father's old filing cabinet.
“What?”
“My dad refused to sell this place three times.”
“To whom?”
“I never knew.”
She found an old folder.
Inside were purchase offers stretching back seven years.
Gabriel took them.
His expression changed at the third page.
Frankie noticed.
“You recognize something.”
“The attorney.”
“Who?”
Gabriel turned the document toward her.
Victor Salerno.
Frankie frowned.
“Who is he?”
“My chief financial officer.”
The room went silent.
Frankie stared at him.
“Your traitor.”
Gabriel's gaze hardened.
“Possibly.”
“Possibly?”
“Suspicion isn't proof.”
Frankie pointed at the paper.
“He tried to buy my garage seven years ago.”
“For another company.”
“Then suddenly my idiot brother gets a fake Costa debt?”
Gabriel said nothing.
Frankie stepped closer.
“Victor has Leo.”
“Maybe.”
“Then let's ask him.”
Gabriel's mouth tightened.
“You aren't coming.”
Frankie grabbed her jacket.
“That wasn't a request.”
For several seconds, neither moved.
Then Marco made the mistake of laughing quietly.
Gabriel turned.
Marco immediately looked away.
Frankie smiled.
“Your guards like me.”
May you like
“No,” Gabriel said. “They're developing poor survival instincts.”
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