Chapter 7 - Detective Hale
Jonah put the burner phone on speaker.
"Your property?" he asked.
Detective Victor Hale laughed softly.
"The bag. The drive. The girl. Dean has a bad habit of confusing possession with ownership."
Stella felt sick.
"I'm not anyone's property."
There was a pause.
"So she can speak," Hale said. "That's inconvenient."
Jonah's eyes hardened.
"Where's Dean?"
"Making poor decisions. As usual."
"And Nico Brandt?"
Another pause, shorter this time.
"You always were quick."
"Not quick enough, apparently."
"No. Gabriel learned that too."
Jonah's hand tightened around the phone.
Stella saw it.
Hale continued. "Leave the bag in Locker 317 and walk away. By sunrise, this problem disappears."
"Which problem?"
"All of them."
"That's not specific enough for me."
"It will be when the police find fifty thousand dollars of marked cash in your restaurant and a dead woman in your office."
Stella stopped breathing.
Jonah's gaze cut toward her.
"That was the plan," he said.
"Still is, if you're careless."
The call ended.
Wyatt swore under his breath. "Marked cash. If they had gotten Stella killed inside Aurelia—"
"They'd say I collected money from Keller and murdered the courier," Jonah finished. "Then Hale arrives as the honest detective who finally has evidence against Jonah Pierce."
Stella stared at the flash drive. "What's on that?"
"We find out somewhere else."
Jonah put Gabriel's watch in his pocket.
"We're leaving."
They made it halfway through the concourse when three uniformed officers entered from Lexington Avenue.
Hale was with them.
He looked nothing like Stella expected.
Late forties. Gray at the temples. Clean navy suit. Calm face.
And on his right hand, a square silver ring with a black stone.
Stella's blood turned cold.
"That's him."
Hale's eyes found her immediately.
Then Jonah.
"Mr. Pierce," he called. "Funny place for a late-night meeting."
Commuters were beginning to appear now. A few heads turned.
Jonah did not reach for a weapon.
"Detective."
Hale smiled. "We received a report about stolen property. I'd like to inspect the bag."
"Get a warrant."
"I can get one. But by then, we may have to discuss why your people were seen breaking into a private apartment."
Stella stepped forward before Jonah could stop her.
"It was my apartment."
Hale looked at her the way a person looks at a bug crawling across a plate.
"Miss Hayes. You appear injured. Do you need police protection?"
The question was for the people watching.
Stella understood that immediately.
So did Jonah.
She forced herself to stand straighter.
"Protection from whom?"
Hale smiled.
"That's what I'm trying to determine."
"Then start with Dean Keller."
The smile disappeared.
Only for a second.
But Stella saw it.
And suddenly, for the first time in years, she realized fear could move in both directions.
Hale stepped closer.
"Miss Hayes, I suggest you come with me."
Jonah moved between them.
"She said no."
Hale's eyes lowered to Jonah's hand near his coat, then rose again.
"Be careful, Pierce. One wrong move in a train station full of cameras and witnesses could end badly."
Jonah almost smiled.
"That's why I'm not making one."
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Then Wyatt leaned toward Jonah and whispered one sentence.
"Boss, the flash drive isn't in the bag anymore."
