Chapter 2 - The Door Reed Lawson Broke
Winter fired when the door came off its hinges.
The bullet tore through the wall beside the man’s head.
He ducked, swore, and threw himself sideways into the room.
Winter fired again.
This time the revolver clicked.
Empty.
She had loaded only two rounds because she had never believed she would need even one.
The man hit her before she could reach the window.
His forearm drove into her throat and slammed her against the wall. The revolver fell. A framed landscape crashed to the floor.
“You should’ve come when he asked.”
Winter clawed at his sleeve.
He smelled of cigarettes and gasoline.
“Daniel said not to mark your face,” he muttered. “But he didn’t say anything about—”
A hand appeared around his throat.
The man vanished backward.
Winter slid to the floor, gasping.
Reed Lawson drove the intruder into the opposite wall hard enough to split plaster.
The man swung wildly.
Reed blocked the punch, twisted his arm, and broke it with a short movement.
The scream lasted less than a second.
Reed struck him once beneath the jaw.
The man collapsed.
Perry entered behind him, gun drawn.
“Clear.”
Reed looked at Winter.
She sat against the wall with one hand at her throat. Her hair had fallen loose around her face. The bruise beneath her sleeve was exposed again.
This one was older.
There were others.
Reed crouched.
“Can you stand?”
Winter looked past him to the unconscious man.
“You followed me.”
“No.”
“You knew where I lived.”
“I learned.”
“Same thing.”
Reed extended his hand.
Winter ignored it and pushed herself upright using the wall.
“Who is he?” Perry asked.
Winter swallowed.
“Elias Trent.”
“Vale’s man?”
She nodded.
Perry knelt beside Elias and searched him.
Reed’s gaze remained on Winter.
“You should pack.”
“I’m not going anywhere with you.”
“Vale found you.”
“So did you.”
“He sent a man to drag you back.”
“And what did you send?”
Reed’s eyes hardened.
“I came myself.”
That should not have reassured her.
It did.
Winter moved toward the suitcase.
Her hands shook as she shoved clothing inside.
Reed noticed the hidden photograph when it slipped from the lining and landed faceup on the bed.
The little girl smiled at all of them.
Reed picked it up.
Winter crossed the room in two steps and snatched it from him.
“Don’t.”
“Her name is Lucy.”
Winter went still.
“You ran a background check.”
“I needed to know why Daniel Vale had men watching my town.”
“Your town?”
Perry glanced at Reed.
Reed ignored him.
“Vale has your daughter.”
Winter put the photograph into her coat.
“She’s safe as long as I do what he wants.”
“He sent a man who nearly killed you.”
“He wouldn’t kill me.”
“You believe that?”
“No.” Her voice cracked. “But I believe he’ll hurt her.”
Reed’s expression remained controlled, but something dark gathered behind it.
“How long?”
“Four months.”
“Police?”
“Daniel owns police.”
“FBI?”
“He owns people there too. Or knows enough about the ones he doesn’t own.”
“What does he want?”
Winter hesitated.
Reed moved closer.
“Mrs. Vale—”
“Don’t call me that.”
“What does he want?”
“My father’s ledger.”
Perry stopped searching Elias.
Reed’s eyes sharpened.
“What ledger?”
Winter looked toward the broken door.
Outside, people had begun gathering in the street.
“Not here.”
Reed turned to Perry.
“Move him.”
Perry dragged Elias upright by his good arm.
The man groaned.
“To where?” Winter asked.
“A place he can answer questions.”
“You can’t kill him.”
Perry gave her a look that suggested the decision had been made long before she spoke.
Winter stepped in front of Reed.
“He knows where Lucy is.”
Reed looked down at her.
“Then he’ll live until he tells me.”
“That isn’t what I meant.”
“It’s what matters.”
Winter studied his face.
Daniel had smiled when he hurt people.
Reed never smiled at all.
She did not know which was worse.
Yet when Reed placed his coat around her shoulders before leading her through the crowd, he did it without touching her skin.
That difference stayed with her.
The Lawson house stood beyond a long gravel drive, surrounded by pasture and old oak trees. It looked less like the home of a criminal king than a farmhouse built for generations who had chosen not to leave.
Two men guarded the gate.
Another waited near the porch.
Winter noticed their weapons.
“You bring your children here?”
“They live here.”
“With armed guards?”
“With people who keep them alive.”
The front door opened before Reed reached it.
Jolie ran out wearing one sock.
“Winter!”
She threw herself forward.
Reed caught her in midair.
“No.”
“But she’s here.”
“She’s hurt.”
Jolie’s delight vanished.
Cash appeared behind her, holding the astronomy book.
He looked at Winter’s neck.
“Did the person who hurt you come back?”
Winter could not answer.
Reed set Jolie down.
“Inside.”
The children obeyed.
Winter followed more slowly.
The house was warm. Not grand. Not polished. Children’s drawings covered the refrigerator. Boots stood in an untidy row near the door. A wooden puzzle lay half-finished on the rug.
There were no photographs of their mother.
Winter noticed that immediately.
A woman in her sixties emerged from the kitchen carrying a dish towel.
“Good Lord.”
“This is Etta,” Reed said. “She helps with the children.”
“I raised their father,” Etta corrected. “The children are an improvement.”
She guided Winter toward the kitchen.
“Sit.”
“I’m fine.”
“That phrase has killed more women than whiskey.”
Winter sat.
Etta cleaned the cut near her hairline while Reed stood in the doorway speaking quietly to Perry.
Jolie climbed into the chair beside Winter.
“Daddy said someone hurt you.”
“Jolie,” Reed warned.
“She needs to know she can stay.”
Cash leaned against the counter.
“She can’t stay forever.”
“Why?”
“Because she has her own child.”
Jolie turned back to Winter.
“Where is she?”
Winter looked at Reed.
He did not rescue her from the question.
Perhaps he understood some truths hurt less when spoken simply.
“Her name is Lucy,” Winter said. “She’s three.”
“Is she lost?”
Winter’s eyes burned.
“Yes.”
“We can find her,” Jolie said.
Cash frowned.
“We don’t know where she is.”
“Daddy finds everyone.”
Reed looked away.
Etta pressed gauze to Winter’s forehead.
“Children,” she said, “go choose pajamas.”
“It’s daytime,” Cash replied.
“Then choose them slowly.”
Jolie slid off the chair.
Before leaving, she touched Winter’s bracelet.
“Is that Lucy’s?”
Winter nodded.
Jolie squeezed her hand and ran after Cash.
Once they were gone, Reed closed the kitchen door.
“Now,” he said. “The ledger.”
Winter folded both hands in her lap.
“My father was Samuel Hayes.”
Perry’s brows rose.
Reed remained still.
“The accountant,” he said.
Winter nodded.
Samuel Hayes had kept books for half the organized crime in middle Tennessee. Money, shipments, judges, deputies, business owners, shell companies. He had known where every body was buried because he had paid for the shovels.
“He worked for Daniel’s father,” Winter continued. “And for your father.”
Reed’s face hardened.
“My father died twelve years ago.”
“Mine died six years ago.”
“Car accident.”
“No. Daniel killed him.”
Silence filled the kitchen.
Winter turned the bracelet around her wrist.
“My father realized Daniel was trafficking women through legitimate freight routes. Some were minors. He began copying records. Names, dates, payments, photographs. He planned to give everything to a federal prosecutor in Memphis.”
“What happened?”
“Daniel found out.”
Her voice grew quieter.
“My father called me the night he died. He told me there was one original ledger no one knew about. Paper, not digital. He said it could destroy families, businesses, politicians. He said I should never look for it unless my life depended on it.”
“And does it?”
Winter met Reed’s eyes.
“Lucy’s does.”
“Where is it?”
“I don’t know.”
Perry exhaled.
“Vale thinks you do.”
“Yes.”
“Why marry him?” Reed asked.
The question came sharper than the others.
Winter looked down.
“I didn’t know who he was when we met.”
“You knew his name.”
“I knew he owned clubs and transport companies. I didn’t know what happened in their basements.”
“When did you find out?”
“After Lucy was born.”
Reed’s gaze drifted toward the ceiling, toward the rooms where his children were changing into pajamas in the middle of the afternoon.
“What did he do when you tried to leave?”
Winter pulled her sleeve back.
The bruises answered.
Etta’s mouth tightened.
Reed’s hands remained at his sides.
Only the tendons in his wrists betrayed him.
“Elias will tell us where Vale keeps the girl,” Perry said.
“No,” Winter replied. “Daniel moves Lucy every few days. Only two people know the schedule.”
“Who?”
“Daniel and his sister.”
Reed looked at Perry.
“Find the sister.”
“She vanished last year.”
“She didn’t vanish. She was hidden.”
Perry nodded and left.
Etta gathered the medical supplies.
“You need sleep.”
“I need my daughter.”
“You’ll be more useful conscious.”
Winter stood.
“I can’t stay here.”
Reed blocked the doorway without moving into it.
“Vale’s men know where you live.”
“They’ll come here.”
“They won’t reach the porch.”
“You don’t know Daniel.”
Reed’s eyes turned cold.
“No. He doesn’t know me.”
Winter believed him.
That frightened her more than Daniel’s men.
Upstairs, Jolie had placed a stuffed rabbit on the guest bed.
“It’s temporary,” Cash said from the doorway.
Jolie ignored him.
“She can use my blue blanket too.”
“She has a blanket.”
“Not a good one.”
Winter stood in the hall watching them.
The room smelled faintly of lavender.
A small glass jar of dried flowers sat on the dresser.
She touched it.
“Those were Mom’s,” Cash said.
Winter withdrew her hand.
“I’m sorry.”
“She liked lavender.”
“I know.”
Cash looked at her sharply.
Winter realized what she had said.
Reed, standing at the end of the hall, realized it too.
“How?” he asked.
Winter looked from Reed to Cash.
She could lie.
But Reed would hear it.
“My father knew your wife.”
The hallway went silent.
Reed crossed the distance between them.
“What did you say?”
Winter’s heart beat hard.
“Her name was Anna.”
Reed’s face lost all color.
“You knew her?”
“No. Not really.”
“Then how did your father know her?”
Winter looked at the astronomy book in Cash’s hands.
Its worn blue cover.
The silver star embossed near the spine.
“My father gave her that book.”
Cash gripped it tighter.
Reed’s voice dropped.
“Explain.”
Winter swallowed.
“Anna was helping him.”
“With what?”
“The ledger.”
Reed stared at her.
Winter’s next words seemed to alter the air inside the house.
“Your wife wasn’t killed in a car accident, Reed.”
May you like
His eyes became empty.
“She was murdered because she found out what your father’s organization had become.”
