Chapter 2 - THE WOMAN WHO HAD BEEN DEAD FOR SIX YEARS
Dr. Keene examined Mara in a private guest room at Adrian’s estate.
Two cracked ribs.
A concussion.
A badly bruised shoulder.
Stitches along her lower lip.
No internal bleeding.
Adrian stood outside the door while Noah watched him pace.
“You’re making the floor nervous.”
Adrian stopped.
“Find out everything about Mara Ellis.”
Noah raised an eyebrow.
“We already did that when she was hired.”
“Do it again.”
“You think the background check missed something?”
“I know it did.”
An hour later, Noah returned with a laptop.
His expression was different.
Adrian noticed immediately.
“What?”
“There is no Mara Ellis before six years ago.”
Adrian said nothing.
Noah continued.
“Birth certificate exists. Social Security number exists. Employment history exists.”
“But?”
“The records were created together.”
Adrian’s eyes hardened.
“A constructed identity.”
“Looks like it.”
“Who built it?”
“That’s the interesting part.”
Noah rotated the screen.
A federal database access log appeared.
“U.S. Marshals Service.”
Adrian stared at it.
Witness protection.
Behind them, a voice said quietly:
“You weren’t supposed to find that.”
Mara stood in the doorway.
She wore one of the estate’s robes.
Her face looked fragile beneath the bruises.
Adrian dismissed Noah with a glance.
When they were alone, Mara closed the door.
“My name isn’t Mara Ellis.”
“I gathered that.”
“My real name is Mara Quinn.”
“And your brother?”
“Jonah Quinn.”
“The police officer?”
Her jaw tightened.
“Detective.”
“Chicago?”
“Yes.”
“Why are you in witness protection?”
She looked toward the window.
“Because Jonah found something.”
“What?”
“A network of cops taking money to bury evidence.”
Adrian’s expression became cold.
“Dirty police.”
“It was bigger than that.”
“How much bigger?”
Mara’s voice dropped.
“Judges. prosecutors. contractors. city officials.”
“And your brother exposed them?”
“He tried.”
“What happened?”
She swallowed.
“They killed him.”
Adrian said nothing.
Mara continued.
“I saw who ordered it.”
There it was.
The truth.
Or part of it.
“Who?”
She hesitated.
Adrian stepped closer.
“Mara.”
“I testified secretly.”
“Against whom?”
“Three men. Two went to prison.”
“And the third?”
Her face changed.
“He disappeared before trial.”
Adrian understood.
“The man who attacked you.”
“Yes.”
“What’s his name?”
Mara’s fingers curled.
“Victor Sloane.”
Adrian stopped breathing for half a second.
Mara saw it.
“You know him.”
Adrian turned away.
That answer was worse than yes.
“Adrian.”
He looked back at her.
“Victor Sloane worked for my father.”
Mara stared.
“What?”
“He handled problems no one wanted attached to the Vale name.”
Her expression turned pale.
“You knew him?”
“When I was younger.”
“Did you know what he did?”
“No.”
“Are you sure?”
The question hit harder than Adrian expected.
“Yes.”
Mara looked unconvinced.
Then Noah knocked once and entered without waiting.
His face was grim.
“We have a bigger problem.”
“What?”
Noah set a photograph on the table.
Security footage from the estate gate.
A black sedan had stopped outside twenty minutes earlier.
Standing beside it was Victor Sloane.
Alive.
Smiling toward the camera.
And holding a sign.
May you like
It contained four words.
GIVE ME MARA QUINN.
