Chapter 5 - The Man With the Gun

"Put the papers down," Pike said.

Adrian stood between the gun and the cabinet where Mara crouched. "You won't fire in my father's house."

Pike's eyes moved over the open drawer. "Mr. Bellamy's house isn't the point. His future is. Yours too, if you've got any sense."

"Jonah Price," Mara said from behind the cabinet. "Where is he?"

Pike turned. "Funny. I thought we were discussing your father."

Mara rose slowly, keeping the cabinet between herself and the weapon. She'd trained for years at a small boxing gym and taken self-defense classes until she could move before panic caught her. None of it made a gun less dangerous. She kept her hands in sight.

"We found the maintenance log," she said. "And the invoice."

"Copies. They're only copies. People make copies of all kinds of things."

"Then you won't mind us showing them to the police."

He gave her a tired smile. "You think the police never saw these?"

Adrian's expression changed. He had grown up assuming a signed document would fix an argument. Mara watched that certainty begin to crack.

A floorboard creaked beyond the door. Pike glanced toward it. Mara seized the half second, shoved the heavy drawer shut with her hip, and killed the overhead switch. Papers scattered. Adrian dragged an iron chair into Pike's legs. The shot went into the ceiling, smashing a plaster rose.

"Run!" Adrian shouted.

Mara didn't waste time fighting him. She grabbed the labeled box, followed Adrian through the door, and slammed it behind them. A second shot cracked through wood and tore into the portrait of a dead Bellamy uncle.

They ran past the mirrors, down a back stair, into a kitchen roaring with ovens and confused cooks. Adrian clutched his side. A thin red line soaked through his shirt under the tuxedo jacket.

"You're hit."

"Grazed. I'm still walking."

Mara pressed a clean towel into his hand. "Hold that. Hard."

She reached for her phone, but it had no service. Adrian's did. He dialed emergency services, gave the palace address, and reported shots fired. The operator told them officers were coming.

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Then his screen filled with an incoming video. The image showed Jonah Price sitting in a dark utility room, his face bruised, his hands tied to a chair. A man's voice spoke from off camera.

"Bring the box to the east loading dock before midnight," it said, "or the waiter doesn't leave alive."