Chapter 7 - The Price of Cowardice
Della entered the clinic through a broken side door.
The smell of mold and antiseptic clung to the hallway. Old examination rooms stood open, their walls covered with peeling paintings of clouds and smiling animals.
Another gunshot echoed below.
Della moved toward the basement stairs.
At the bottom, she found one of Damian’s guards lying beside a filing cabinet. Blood darkened his sleeve, but he was conscious.
“Where is Damian?”
“Records room.”
She followed the sound of voices.
Damian stood behind a concrete pillar with his weapon raised. Two armed men were trapped behind rows of metal shelves.
“Damian.”
His head snapped toward her.
“What are you doing here?”
“Owen gave me this.”
She held up the flash drive.
One of the gunmen fired.
Damian crossed the room in two strides and pulled Della behind the pillar.
“I asked you to remain in the vehicle.”
“Cordelia arrived with a detective.”
His expression changed.
“Which detective?”
“I don’t know.”
Damian fired toward the shelves, forcing the gunmen back.
“Can you reach the office?”
Della saw a glass-walled room twenty feet away.
“Yes.”
“Stay low.”
He covered her while she ran.
Inside the office, an ancient computer sat beneath layers of dust. Della inserted the flash drive.
A password screen appeared.
She tried Caleb’s birthday.
Rejected.
Their wedding date.
Rejected.
The baby’s due date.
Rejected.
Outside, Damian exchanged gunfire with the remaining men.
Della looked at the screen.
Caleb had always used passwords connected to memories no stranger could guess.
She typed the name of the diner where they first met.
HARPER’S.
The drive opened.
Hundreds of files appeared.
Payment ledgers.
Recorded conversations.
Photographs of hospital bracelets.
Lists of mothers, newborns, and altered identities.
Della’s nausea had nothing to do with pregnancy.
She opened a video file.
Cordelia sat inside a parked car, speaking to someone outside the camera’s view.
“Caleb Marsh copied the foundation accounts. My father wants it corrected tonight.”
A man’s voice answered.
“And his wife?”
“She knows nothing. Leave her alone unless she becomes inconvenient.”
The date was the night Caleb died.
Della copied the files to a secure email account.
Then she found a folder carrying her own name.
Inside was a photograph taken through the window of her apartment.
She was asleep on the sofa, one hand over her pregnant belly.
Another photograph showed her entering the Ashworth Grand for her first day of work.
Cordelia had been watching her for weeks.
A note appeared beneath the images.
SUBJECT MAY POSSESS LOCKER KEY. ARRANGE PUBLIC INCIDENT. SEARCH PERSONAL EFFECTS AFTER TERMINATION.
The spilled champagne had been planned.
The shove had not been random cruelty.
Cordelia intended to have Della arrested, searched, and discredited.
Della heard footsteps behind her.
The detective from outside entered the office.
He raised his gun.
“Step away from the computer.”
Della recognized him from the investigation into Caleb’s death.
Detective Warren Pike.
He had sat in her kitchen and promised to find answers.
“You closed Caleb’s case.”
“He drove too fast on a wet road.”
“You lied.”
Pike aimed at her stomach.
“I strongly recommend you stop talking.”
Della’s fear became cold and focused.
The computer showed that seventy-three percent of the files had uploaded.
She needed time.
“Cordelia murdered him, didn’t she?”
“Cordelia made an emotional decision. My job was to prevent that decision from damaging her family.”
“You cleaned up the crash.”
“I protected important people from an unfortunate scandal.”
“And Owen?”
“A weak man who confused guilt with morality.”
The upload reached eighty-one percent.
Pike stepped closer.
“Remove the drive.”
Della reached toward the computer.
Instead, she grabbed a metal desk lamp and threw it at his face.
The gun fired.
The bullet shattered the monitor.
Della dropped beneath the desk.
Pike seized her ankle and dragged her backward.
Before he could raise the gun again, Damian appeared in the doorway.
He fired once.
The weapon flew from Pike’s hand.
Damian crossed the office and struck him hard enough to send him against the wall.
Pike collapsed.
Damian turned toward Della.
“Are you hit?”
“No.”
He pulled her upright, his hands checking her shoulders and face.
“I’m okay.”
His breath remained unsteady.
She touched his wrist.
“The files uploaded.”
“Where?”
“To an email Caleb created for me.”
Damian looked at the damaged computer.
“You just preserved enough evidence to destroy Silas Vance.”
A crash sounded upstairs.
They ran toward the stairwell.
Outside the clinic, Owen lay beside the unmarked police car.
Cordelia was gone.
So was the second officer.
Owen had been shot twice in the chest.
Della dropped beside him.
His eyes opened.
“Caleb always said you were the brave one.”
“Don’t talk.”
“I left him.”
Tears slipped toward his ears.
“I saw his car hit the barrier. I could have called for help. Cordelia told me they would kill you if I did.”
Della pressed both hands against his wounds.
“You can apologize after the ambulance arrives.”
“No.”
His fingers closed weakly around hers.
“I put something in Caleb’s music box. At your apartment. They didn’t find it because it isn’t inside the box.”
“Where?”
“Under the brass dancer.”
His breathing broke.
“Owen.”
“Tell him I was sorry.”
“Tell him yourself.”
But Owen was already looking past her.
The tension left his hand.
Della lowered her head.
For several seconds, there was only wind moving through the empty street.
Damian knelt beside her.
She leaned into him.
He held her carefully, one arm around her shoulders, the other protecting her belly.
Sirens approached in the distance.
Reed appeared from the far alley carrying the stolen document case.
Damian immediately raised his weapon.
Marcus stopped.
“I told you I was protecting the evidence.”
“You also knew Cordelia was coming.”
“I knew Silas had police on the way. I didn’t know she would be with them.”
Damian’s gun remained steady.
Marcus placed the case on the ground.
“Before you decide whether to kill me, you should know Silas has called a council meeting for midnight.”
“Where?”
“The old Vale shipyard.”
“Why?”
“To vote you out.”
Damian’s eyes narrowed.
May you like
Marcus looked at Della.
“And if the vote fails, they plan to deliver her body as proof that Damian Vale can no longer protect anyone.”
