Chapter 3 - The File Her Father Left Behind
At 2:14 a.m., Iris found Declan in the kitchen.
He was standing shirtless beside the sink, trying to change his bandage one-handed.
Dark tattoos crossed his shoulder and upper arm.
Iris leaned against the doorway.
“You're terrible at that.”
“I was doing fine.”
“You taped gauze to your tattoo.”
“It's close enough.”
She took the medical kit.
“Sit.”
“You're very commanding for someone who dislikes commands.”
“Difference is, you're free to bleed stupidly if you prefer.”
Declan sat.
Iris removed the ruined bandage.
“Why were you shot?”
Declan didn't answer immediately.
“You said you killed Costa's nephew.”
“He was moving fentanyl through one of my shipping routes.”
“And that offended your moral standards?”
“It violated my rules.”
Iris looked up.
“You have rules?”
“Everyone has rules.”
“Yours apparently include murder.”
His expression hardened.
“You wanted truth.”
“I still do.”
“Costa's nephew was using my warehouses without permission. Three teenagers died from a shipment that came through one of them.”
“So you killed him.”
“Yes.”
No excuse.
No heroic version.
Just yes.
Iris finished the bandage.
“I don't approve.”
“I didn't ask you to.”
“Good.”
A phone rang.
Marco entered carrying an old laptop.
“We found something.”
He placed it on the kitchen island.
“Your father's storage unit was accessed yesterday.”
Iris frowned.
“My father didn't have a storage unit.”
“He did.”
“Where?”
“Under your mother's maiden name.”
They drove there before sunrise.
Iris chose to go.
Declan didn't order her.
That mattered.
Inside the unit were tax records, dusty furniture, and a locked metal cabinet.
Marco forced it open.
Iris found a veterinary-school photograph on top.
Her graduation.
Her father standing beside her.
Underneath sat a flash drive.
“Laptop,” she said.
Declan stopped her.
“Could be tracked.”
“Then disconnect it.”
Marco disabled the wireless connection.
Iris inserted the drive.
Folders appeared.
Invoices.
Shipping manifests.
Bank transfers.
Names.
Declan's expression changed as he read.
“What?”
He pointed.
“Anthony Costa has been stealing from his own partners for twelve years.”
Iris opened another file.
A video appeared.
Her father filled the screen.
Older than she remembered him.
Tired.
“If Iris is watching this, then I didn't get the chance to explain.”
Iris froze.
Declan moved away from the laptop.
Giving her space.
Her father's recorded voice continued.
“I made choices I'm ashamed of. I believed numbers were harmless. I told myself I never carried a weapon, never threatened anyone, never hurt anybody.”
He looked into the camera.
“I was wrong.”
Iris swallowed.
“I discovered Anthony Costa was using legitimate shipments to move narcotics and laundering the profits through charitable contracts. I copied everything.”
Her father's face tightened.
“If something happens to me, Iris must not be involved. She knows nothing.”
The video ended.
Nobody spoke.
Then Iris asked, “Was his accident really an accident?”
Declan looked at Marco.
Marco slowly shook his head.
“No.”
Iris closed her eyes.
One second.
Two.
Then she opened them.
“Prove it.”
Declan studied her.
“You don't have to do this.”
“Yes, I do.”
“Revenge won't bring him back.”
“This isn't revenge.”
She tapped the screen.
“My father died protecting evidence that can destroy Costa. If we bury it because we're afraid, then Costa wins twice.”
Declan stared at her.
“You say ‘we’ very easily.”
“Don't get sentimental. You're useful.”
His mouth twitched.
Marco interrupted.
“We have another problem.”
“What?”
“The safe house was compromised.”
Declan immediately became still.
“How?”
“Someone inside our organization gave Costa the address.”
Iris looked between them.
“So you have a traitor.”
“Yes.”
“And Costa has been watching me.”
“Yes.”
“And now we possess evidence he murdered my father.”
Declan nodded.
Iris closed the laptop.
“Then stop treating me like the weak point.”
“What are you suggesting?”
“Use me.”
Declan's expression became dangerous.
“No.”
Iris almost laughed.
“Excuse me?”
“Absolutely not.”
“You don't get to decide.”
“I won't put you in front of Costa.”
“You don't need to.”
She opened the veterinary clinic's scheduling system on her phone.
“My clinic has security cameras.”
“So?”
“Costa believes I'm frightened. He'll expect me to run.”
Declan understood.
“You want to reopen.”
“Yes.”
“That's insane.”
“Probably.”
“No.”
Iris stared at him.
Declan caught himself.
His jaw tightened.
Then he tried again.
“I strongly recommend against it.”
“Much better.”
Marco looked like he wanted to be anywhere else.
Iris continued.
“Costa needs the evidence. He thinks my father left something with me. If I reopen the clinic, someone will come.”
“And we follow them back.”
“Exactly.”
Declan looked at her for a long time.
“If we do this, you wear protection.”
“Fine.”
“You follow Marco's evacuation instructions.”
“Reasonable.”
“And the second anything changes, you're out.”
“I decide when I'm out.”
“Iris.”
“Declan.”
Silence.
Finally he said, “We decide together.”
Iris held out her hand.
“Deal.”
Declan looked at it.
Then shook it.
For the first time, they weren't patient and veterinarian.
Boss and hostage.
Protector and protected.
They were partners.
May you like
And somewhere across the city, Anthony Costa had no idea what was coming.
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