Chapter 1 - THE VOICE IN THE DARK
For three seconds, Norah heard nothing except Declan’s breathing.
Then something metallic groaned above them.
The elevator dropped again.
This time it fell far enough for her stomach to rise into her throat before the emergency brakes caught with a violent snap.
Norah hit the wall.
Declan grabbed her before she reached the floor.
His arm locked around her waist, pulling her against his blood-soaked shirt.
“Don’t move.”
“I wasn’t planning to.”
Another grinding noise passed through the shaft.
Declan looked upward.
For the first time since Norah had met him, he looked genuinely afraid.
Not panicked.
Declan Gallagher did not appear capable of panic.
But afraid?
Yes.
He moved her toward the corner beneath the emergency light.
“What floor?”
Norah looked at the digital display.
Blank.
“We passed twenty-six.”
“We didn’t pass it.”
“What?”
“We stopped near twenty-four.”
“How do you know?”
“Because I know this building.”
He reached for the emergency-call panel.
Norah expected him to press it.
Instead, he stopped.
A tiny green light beside the speaker was already glowing.
Someone had opened the line from the other side.
Declan’s expression changed.
“Don’t say anything.”
A hiss of static filled the elevator.
Then a man’s voice.
Calm.
Distorted.
“Mr. Gallagher.”
Norah stopped breathing.
Declan said nothing.
“We know you have it.”
Declan’s right hand moved slowly toward his waistband.
Norah saw black metal.
A gun.
Of course he had a gun.
And somehow that was not the most frightening thing in the elevator.
The voice continued.
“Give us the drive and your secretary walks out.”
Norah turned toward Declan.
“What drive?”
His eyes stayed on the speaker.
The voice laughed softly.
“She really doesn’t know.”
Declan finally spoke.
“You cut the elevator with her inside.”
“Collateral damage.”
Something changed in Declan’s face.
The wounded man vanished.
The other one returned.
The man employees lowered their voices around.
The man Chicago newspapers called a logistics billionaire while everyone with sense knew Gallagher Enterprises moved more than freight.
“If she gets hurt,” Declan said quietly, “there will not be enough city between you and me.”
The speaker clicked.
Silence.
Norah stared at him.
“They’re trying to kill you.”
“No.”
“What?”
“They’re trying to scare me into handing over something.”
“That elevator just dropped.”
“They needed us alive long enough to negotiate.”
“That is not comforting.”
“It wasn’t meant to be.”
He leaned against the wall.
Pain crossed his face.
His shirt was becoming darker.
Norah looked at the wound.
“That’s still bleeding.”
“I noticed.”
“What happened tonight?”
“Later.”
“There may not be a later.”
His eyes met hers.
“There will be.”
“How can you possibly know that?”
He stepped closer.
“We’re not dying in this elevator.”
The certainty in his voice made her angry.
“You don’t control physics.”
“No.”
“Then stop talking like—”
“I control the people trying to kill us better than they think.”
Norah stared.
Before she could answer, the elevator speaker clicked again.
“Mr. Gallagher.”
Declan looked toward it.
“Three minutes.”
“For what?”
“The drive.”
Then another sentence.
“If you make us come down there, we start with Miss Bennett.”
Norah’s blood went cold.
They knew her name.
Declan shut his eyes for half a second.
That frightened her more than the threat.
“You knew they’d come after me.”
“No.”
“You’re lying.”
“I knew they might use whoever was beside me.”
“That’s different how?”
“It means you weren’t the target when I entered your office.”
“When did I become one?”
Declan looked at her laptop bag.
“When they saw what you were working on.”
Norah followed his eyes.
The quarterly spreadsheet.
Waste management.
Three million dollars.
Row 42.
Column C.
Her stomach tightened.
“What did I enter?”
Declan did not answer immediately.
“Declan.”
It was the first time she had used his first name.
His eyes sharpened.
“You entered a number somebody expected to stay buried.”
“It was in the finance packet.”
“I know.”
“What does three million dollars buy?”
He looked toward the dark ceiling.
“Tonight?”
A pause.
“Apparently an elevator failure.”
Norah felt her knees weaken.
“No.”
Declan reached into his pocket.
Not for the drive.
For his phone.
No signal.
Then he looked at her.
“Open your laptop.”
“In here?”
“Offline.”
“Why?”
“Row forty-two.”
She pulled the computer from her bag.
The battery glowed.
The spreadsheet opened.
Declan pointed.
“Click the source note.”
Norah did.
A hidden comment appeared.
TRANSFER REFERENCE: HCS-8814.
“Harbor Civic Services,” Declan said.
“Waste contractor.”
“On paper.”
“What are they really?”
He looked at her.
“A company that has never owned a garbage truck.”
Norah stared at the three-million-dollar entry.
Then she noticed something else.
Authorization initials.
N.B.
Her initials.
“I didn’t authorize this.”
“I know.”
“It says I did.”
“I know.”
Her pulse jumped.
“Why?”
Declan’s voice dropped.
“Because whoever moved that money planned to make you responsible if anybody ever found it.”
Norah looked at the darkness around them.
The elevator.
The blood.
The hidden transfer.
Suddenly she understood.
Declan had not ordered her home because he was worried she was working late.
He had come upstairs to get her out before someone else reached her.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Because you would have asked questions.”
“I’m asking them now.”
“I know.”
The speaker clicked.
“Two minutes.”
Declan slid the gun back beneath his shirt and looked directly at her.
“You’re safe with me.”
Norah stared at the blood spreading across his chest.
“That may be the least convincing sentence anyone has ever said to me.”
For the first time that night, the corner of his mouth moved.
Almost a smile.
May you like
Then the emergency light went out.
And somewhere above them, someone released the elevator again.
