Chapter 12
The pantry door opened four inches and stopped against my shoe. I was behind the door, pressed to the shelves, coat bulging.
The suit stuck his head in. I saw him in the crack — early forties, gray suit, no tie, flashlight off now. He looked at Elena.
"You've been in here a while," he said.
"Chef's list," she said. Her voice was even. "You locked the service exit so I can't take trash out. I was counting cans."
He looked past her at the shelves, at the step stool, at the window with the loose latch. His eyes lingered on the window.
"Utility was clear," he said. "Office ledger's gone. You see anyone come through kitchen?"
"No," Elena said. "Just you."
He nodded, but didn't leave. He pushed the pantry door another inch. It hit my foot again. I held the ledger inside my coat and didn't breathe.
"What's in your coat?" he asked me.
Elena didn't miss a beat. "He's maintenance relief. Daniel's cousin. He was fixing the dryer vent before you locked everything down."
I kept my face down, stubble and shadow hiding me. "Dryer vent was clogged," I mumbled.
The suit stared at me another second, then at Elena's ring. "Daniel Reyes was maintenance. You Reyes?"
She held his gaze. "Yes."
He pulled out his phone, thumbed it, and held it up. A photo on the screen — Daniel, same as the one in the ledger, but a work ID photo.
"Your husband still around?" he asked.
Her jaw tightened. "No."
The suit lowered the phone. Outside, beyond the kitchen window, headlights swept across the wall. A car turned into the long driveway, gravel crunching loud in the night quiet. All of us heard it.
The suit turned his head toward the sound. "That's him," he said into his radio. "Marino's here. East side."
He looked back at us. "Stay in pantry. Don't come out till we're done."
He pulled the pantry door shut and his footsteps went fast toward the front hall. A second set followed from the foyer.
Elena grabbed my arm the second he was gone. "That's Marino," she whispered. "If he survived like they said —"
"He did survive," I whispered back. The headlights were fixed now, stopped in front of the house. A car door slammed outside. Heavy.
I eased the pantry door open a crack. Through the kitchen arch I could see the front door. One of the suits opened it.
A man stood on the porch in a dark overcoat, late fifties, thick neck, hair cut short. He didn't come in. He looked past the suit into the house, toward the hallway that led to the office.
"Where's Victor?" Marino said. His voice carried.
The suit said, "Not secured. Ledger's missing."
Marino stepped inside without being invited. "Then you didn't search right. That book's been in this house thirty years. Kane never let it leave."
I closed the pantry door to a slit again. My heart was hitting the ledger through my coat.
Elena was close beside me, breathing fast. "We can't go out the window now," she breathed. "He'll see. He's at the front."
I looked at the high pantry window, then back at the kitchen, then at the gray passage door on the other side of the utility room we had just locked. We were boxed — Marino at the front, suits in the hall, blocked exits on both sides.
"Victor," Elena whispered, using my name for the first time that night. "If Marino gets that book, he gets the lot your father promised him. And Daniel's name disappears. They'll say Daniel took cash under the table."
I touched the ledger through my coat. Page forty-seven. My debt. Daniel's witness note. The photo.
Outside, Marino's voice said, louder, "Victor Kane! I know you're here. Your maid's car is still in the lot!"
Elena flinched. Her keys were in her apron. Her car was the only one they could see.
I put my hand on the window latch behind the cereal boxes. It was loose, like she said. One push and it would open to the side yard and the dark. One push and we'd be out from behind the curtain for good, with Marino ten feet away and the suits between us and the gate.
Elena's hand covered mine on the latch.
"Ask me when we survive this," she had said earlier. I finally understood she wasn't just the maid in the alcove. She was Daniel's wife, and the book had been left for her.
May you like
"On three," she whispered, eyes on the front hall where Marino's shadow filled the doorway.
I nodded. Inside my coat, the Red Ledger pressed hard against my ribs, waiting to be read out loud.
