Chapter 4 - THE SECRETARY WHO DISAPPEARED
The first guard never saw Caitlyn leave the kitchen.
The second saw her cross the hallway carrying a mug and assumed she was going upstairs.
That was the advantage of being overlooked for two years.
People stopped noticing the exact moment you were no longer where they expected you to be.
Caitlyn entered the laundry room, found the service door, and stepped into freezing rain.
The cold hit her hard enough to make her gasp.
She had no coat.
Her office shoes slipped on wet stone.
She almost turned back.
Then her phone buzzed again.
A photograph of Noah appeared.
This time someone was holding a hand over his mouth.
Caitlyn stopped thinking.
She moved.
Vincent's keys included the fob to a black sedan parked beside the garage.
Caitlyn had never stolen a car before.
Technically, she told herself, she still had not.
She intended to return it.
The distinction felt weak even in her own head.
She started the engine and drove through the service gate before the guards realized the vehicle was moving.
Her phone rang thirty seconds later.
Damian.
She declined the call.
It rang again.
She declined it again.
A text appeared.
TURN AROUND.
Caitlyn drove faster.
Another message came.
CAITLYN.
She ignored that too.
A third message arrived.
IF YOU FORCE ME TO CHASE YOU, YOU WILL NOT ENJOY THE CONVERSATION WHEN I CATCH YOU.
Despite everything, she muttered aloud.
"Get in line."
The navigation system showed forty-three minutes to the warehouse.
Her fuel gauge showed half a tank.
Her hands felt numb on the steering wheel.
She called the unknown number.
The man answered immediately.
"That was quick."
"Let me hear Noah."
"Keep driving."
"Let me hear him."
Silence.
Then a faint sound came through.
A soft, broken hum.
Caitlyn's eyes filled.
Noah hummed when he was frightened.
He had done it since childhood.
Three notes from an old cartoon theme their mother used to sing badly.
"Noah."
The humming changed.
Caitlyn heard a small breath.
"Cait?"
It was barely a word.
It was enough to tear her open.
"I'm here."
The line went silent again.
The man's voice returned.
"Now you know he's alive."
"Who are you?"
"Someone your father should have listened to."
"What do you want?"
"A file."
"What file?"
"The one Thomas Elmore hid before he died."
Caitlyn's confusion was genuine.
"I don't know what you're talking about."
"Then think harder."
"I was twenty-four when my parents died."
She gripped the wheel.
"I spent the next two weeks in an ICU waiting room."
Her voice broke.
"If my father hid something, he didn't tell me."
"He did."
"No."
"He just didn't tell you what it was."
The call ended.
Caitlyn stared at the road.
Her father had left her many things after his death.
Keys.
Passwords.
Tax records.
A box of family photographs.
His old watch.
A note about the furnace.
Nothing that looked like evidence against a criminal freight network.
She thought of the trust account.
Noah's name.
A chance.
Then another memory surfaced.
Three days before the crash, her father had insisted Caitlyn take a small safety-deposit key.
He told her it belonged to a box containing their parents' wills.
After the funerals, Caitlyn had gone to the bank.
The box contained exactly what he said.
Two wills.
Insurance policies.
Property documents.
And an old metal flash drive she had assumed contained scanned copies.
She had never opened it.
The drive was still in a sealed envelope inside the fireproof lockbox in her apartment.
Caitlyn's heartbeat accelerated.
Her phone rang again.
This time Vincent.
She answered.
"Do not yell at me."
"I am not the one you need to worry about yelling."
Vincent sounded breathless.
"Where are you?"
"Driving."
"I gathered that from the fact that my car is gone."
"I found a second location."
"We know."
Caitlyn's hands tightened.
"How?"
"Because Damian noticed the land map thirty seconds after realizing you were missing."
Of course he had.
"Vincent, they said they would hurt Noah if Damian came."
"And you believed a kidnapper."
"I heard my brother."
Vincent became quiet.
"You heard him?"
"Yes."
"Was he conscious?"
"Enough to say my name."
Vincent exhaled.
"Okay."
Caitlyn heard voices in the background.
Then Damian took the phone.
"Pull over."
No greeting.
No anger.
Just two words.
Caitlyn's stomach tightened.
"No."
"They want you alone because you are easier to control alone."
"They want a file."
Silence.
"What file?"
"Something my father hid."
Another silence.
"Do you know what they mean?"
"Maybe."
Damian's voice became harder.
"Caitlyn."
"There is a flash drive in my apartment."
She told him about the safety-deposit box.
Vincent swore in the background.
Damian did not.
That was worse.
"Where is the drive now?"
"At home."
"Address?"
"You already have my address."
"Not anymore."
She frowned.
"What does that mean?"
"It means no one is going to your apartment until my security team clears it."
"I need that drive."
"You need to stay alive long enough to use it."
"Noah needs me."
"Noah needs you alive too."
Caitlyn blinked against tears.
Damian's voice dropped.
"Pull over."
For one second, she almost obeyed.
Then headlights appeared in her rearview mirror.
Fast.
Too fast.
A dark pickup closed the distance behind her.
Caitlyn's body tightened.
"Damian."
His tone changed instantly.
"What?"
"Someone's behind me."
"Describe the vehicle."
She did.
Vincent shouted something in the background.
Damian's voice became very calm.
"Do not pull over."
"You just spent five minutes telling me to pull over."
"I changed my mind."
The pickup accelerated.
It struck the sedan's rear bumper.
Caitlyn screamed and jerked the wheel.
The car fishtailed on the wet road.
"Caitlyn."
Damian's voice cut through the panic.
"Eyes forward."
She fought the wheel.
The tires caught.
The sedan straightened.
"I'm okay."
"You are not okay."
Another impact hit the rear bumper.
"They're trying to push me off the road."
"I know."
"How could you possibly know?"
"Because I can hear them hitting you."
The pickup pulled alongside.
A masked man sat in the passenger seat.
Caitlyn saw something metallic in his hand.
"He has a gun."
Damian's response was immediate.
"Brake."
"What?"
"Brake now."
Caitlyn slammed the pedal.
The sedan dropped backward.
The pickup shot ahead.
A sharp crack split the night.
The passenger-side mirror exploded.
Caitlyn ducked instinctively.
"Keep your head down but watch the road."
Damian's voice remained steady.
"Our car is six minutes behind you."
"Six minutes is a long time."
"Not tonight."
The pickup slowed again.
Caitlyn accelerated.
Her sedan was faster.
For thirty seconds, she gained distance.
Then another pair of headlights appeared ahead.
A black SUV blocked part of the road.
"There's another car."
Vincent's voice came through now.
"Can you turn around?"
"No."
The pickup was behind her.
The SUV was ahead.
A drainage ditch ran along the right side.
Trees crowded the left.
Caitlyn's pulse hammered.
"Damian, I can't get through."
He answered so quietly she almost missed it.
"Yes, you can."
"There isn't space."
"There is if you stop thinking like you're driving to work."
"I am not trained for this."
"Neither are they."
The SUV ahead shifted farther into the lane.
The pickup closed from behind.
Damian spoke again.
"Aim for the shoulder beside the SUV."
"There's mud."
"I know."
"I could roll the car."
"Not if you keep the wheel straight."
"That is an insane amount of confidence in me."
"Caitlyn."
"What?"
"I have never seen you miss a deadline."
The absurdity of the sentence struck her so hard she almost laughed.
"This is not a calendar invite."
"Then pretend it is."
The SUV filled the windshield.
Caitlyn tightened both hands on the wheel.
She aimed for the narrow shoulder.
The sedan dropped off the pavement.
Mud slammed beneath the tires.
The car lurched violently.
The SUV's side mirror struck her rear window and shattered it.
Caitlyn screamed.
Then she was past.
She yanked the car back onto the road.
"I'm through."
Damian exhaled for what sounded like the first time in a minute.
"Keep driving."
Behind her, the pickup and SUV turned.
Caitlyn glanced at the navigation screen.
"The warehouse is four miles away."
"Do not go there."
"Noah is there."
"You don't know that."
"I heard him."
"You heard him on a phone."
Caitlyn understood.
The call could have come from anywhere.
The address could be another trap.
Her stomach dropped.
"Then where do I go?"
Damian answered immediately.
"Straight."
"That's not a destination."
"It is when I'm coming toward you."
A third set of headlights appeared ahead.
Caitlyn's breath caught.
"Another vehicle."
"Mine."
The approaching SUV flashed its lights twice.
Then twice again.
The dark vehicle behind Caitlyn accelerated.
The Hamilton SUV ahead did the same.
They passed Caitlyn in opposite directions.
She saw Damian through the window for less than a second.
Then his vehicle swung sideways across the road behind her.
Brakes screamed.
Metal crashed.
Caitlyn stopped the sedan fifty yards away and looked back.
Two black SUVs had pinned the pickup against a guardrail.
Men poured out.
Vincent shouted through the phone.
"Keep driving."
"Damian is back there."
"Exactly why you keep driving."
Gunfire cracked behind her.
Caitlyn's whole body seized.
"Vincent."
"Drive."
She obeyed.
Two minutes later, another Hamilton vehicle caught up and guided her to an abandoned service station.
The driver pulled her from the sedan and pushed her behind the concrete building.
Caitlyn's legs finally gave out.
She sat on wet gravel with her back against the wall.
Her phone remained clutched in one hand.
The call had ended.
Rain soaked her hair.
Her teeth began chattering.
Seven minutes passed.
Then eight.
At nine, headlights swept across the parking lot.
A black SUV stopped so hard the front dipped.
Damian stepped out.
Blood marked the side of his white shirt.
Caitlyn's heart stopped.
"You're hurt."
He looked down as if he had forgotten the blood existed.
"Not mine."
He crossed the distance between them.
For one terrifying second, Caitlyn thought he might yell.
Instead, he crouched in front of her.
"Look at me."
She did.
His eyes moved over her face, shoulders, hands, and knees.
"Are you hit?"
"No."
"Are you sure?"
"Yes."
His hand lifted toward her cheek.
Then stopped before touching her.
Something about that hesitation struck deeper than if he had pulled her into his arms.
"You stole Vincent's car," he said.
Caitlyn swallowed.
"Borrowed."
"You ignored nine calls."
"I counted seven."
"You drove alone toward men who had already taken your brother."
"They threatened him."
"They lied."
"I heard Noah."
Damian's face remained hard.
"I know."
"Then don't stand there like I had a choice."
Something dangerous flashed in his eyes.
"You had the choice not to give them two Elmore siblings instead of one."
Caitlyn flinched.
Damian stood and walked three steps away.
He ran one hand through his wet hair.
When he turned back, his anger had become colder.
"The warehouse was empty."
Caitlyn stared at him.
"What?"
"Noah was never there."
Her stomach dropped.
"Then the call—"
"Recorded minutes earlier."
"How do you know?"
Vincent appeared from the SUV.
His left sleeve was torn.
"Because we found the phone playing his voice on a timer."
Caitlyn looked at him.
"Where?"
"Inside the warehouse."
"So where is Noah?"
Vincent's expression tightened.
"We still don't know."
Caitlyn closed her eyes.
The exhaustion returned all at once.
Every muscle hurt.
Her thoughts blurred.
Damian took off his coat and placed it around her shoulders.
She should have refused it.
Instead, she pulled it closed.
It smelled faintly of cedar and rain.
"We go back," Damian said.
Caitlyn opened her eyes.
"To the safe house?"
"No."
His gaze shifted toward the dark highway.
"New York."
Vincent frowned.
"Boss, that's exactly where the breach started."
"Which is why I'm done reacting from three states away."
Damian looked at Caitlyn.
"We find the drive in her apartment."
"And then?" she asked.
"Then we learn what your father died protecting."
Caitlyn stood slowly.
Her body swayed.
Damian caught her elbow again.
This time she did not pull away.
They returned to the private airfield before dawn.
Caitlyn sat beside Damian because every other seat was occupied by men working phones and laptops.
She opened her tablet.
Damian closed it.
"No."
"I can help."
"You can sleep."
"I can't."
"That was not a question."
"I won't sleep."
Damian said nothing.
The jet climbed above the storm.
For several minutes, Caitlyn watched data move across Vincent's laptop.
Then the words began to blur.
She blinked.
Her head dipped once.
She jerked upright.
No one commented.
Her head dipped again.
This time it moved sideways.
The last thing Caitlyn consciously registered was the warmth beside her.
Then her head came to rest on Damian Hamilton's shoulder.
The entire cabin went silent.
A glass stopped halfway to a man's mouth.
Vincent's hand shifted automatically toward the inside of his jacket before his brain caught up with what he was seeing.
Caitlyn sighed in her sleep.
Then she settled closer.
Damian looked down at her.
No one breathed.
He raised two fingers.
"No one wakes her."
Vincent stared at him.
Damian's voice dropped another degree.
"And if anyone laughs, they walk home from thirty thousand feet."
No one laughed.
May you like
Caitlyn slept all the way to New York.
