Chapter 2 - THE SECOND BOMB
“One pill,” Sadi repeated. “And tomorrow, we're calling your rehabilitation physician.”
Desmond Gallagher closed his eyes.
“You negotiate like a hostage taker.”
“Funny. I was about to say the same thing about your employees.”
He opened one eye.
“My employees don't negotiate.”
“That explains why everyone in this house looks constipated.”
Against his will, Desmond laughed.
It was a small sound, barely more than a breath. But Sadi heard it, and the sound stayed with her long after he fell asleep.
At seven the next morning, shouting erupted downstairs.
Sadi pulled on her scrubs and hurried into the corridor. Frankie stood outside Desmond's office, speaking urgently into his radio. Two guards rushed past her. One had blood on his sleeve.
“Who's hurt?” Sadi demanded.
“Go back upstairs.”
She looked at the blood.
“Frankie, if someone is bleeding, I'm going to need a better answer.”
Before he could respond, Desmond appeared at the end of the corridor.
“Let her through.”
Inside the office, a young guard sat against a filing cabinet. Blood soaked the left side of his shirt.
Sadi knelt beside him.
“What's your name?”
“Eddie.”
“Okay, Eddie. I'm Sadi. Stay with me.”
She exposed the wound, applied pressure with sterile dressings, and directed Frankie to call emergency services. She monitored Eddie while they waited, speaking steadily whenever his eyes began to close.
Eddie caught her wrist.
“They wanted the archive.”
Desmond moved closer.
“Who did?”
The young man's face twisted.
“Caleb.”
Frankie went pale.
Desmond became completely still.
“Did you see him?”
Eddie shook his head.
“His people. They said you'd pay.”
Sadi tightened her hold on the dressing.
“Stop talking. Help is coming.”
The ambulance arrived eleven minutes later.
When it disappeared through the gates, Sadi turned to Desmond.
“Who's Caleb?”
“My younger brother.”
She blinked.
“You have a brother?”
“Yes.”
“And he sends men to stab your employees?”
Desmond looked toward the gates.
“He wants something I have.”
“The archive?”
His gaze sharpened.
“You remember that?”
“It's hard to forget a man casually mentioning a room full of blackmail during a muscle spasm.”
Desmond sighed.
He led her upstairs to a corridor containing three locked rooms. The last held filing cabinets, encrypted drives, and boxes of old documents.
“My father built the Gallagher organization,” he said. “He kept records of everyone who owed him a favor and everyone who betrayed him.”
“And you inherited them?”
“Yes.”
“Sounds like a terrible inheritance.”
“It was.”
Desmond opened a drawer and took out a photograph of two boys beside a swimming pool.
The older boy had Desmond's icy blue eyes.
The younger stood with an arm thrown around his shoulders.
“Caleb and me,” Desmond said.
Sadi studied the picture.
“You look happy.”
“We were.”
“What happened?”
“Our father taught us there could only be one successor.”
Sadi looked up.
“And you believed him?”
Desmond's jaw tightened.
“For too long.”
That afternoon, Sadi discovered a folded note beneath her bedroom door.
Five words.
ASK HIM ABOUT THE SECOND BOMB.
She carried it directly to Desmond.
He read it once.
Then pressed the intercom.
“Frankie. Lock down the estate.”
Sadi felt cold.
“Desmond, what second bomb?”
He looked at her.
“The one planted beneath my hospital transport van three weeks after the first explosion.”
“Someone tried to kill you again?”
“Yes.”
“Why didn't the police report it?”
“They did. The investigation went nowhere.”
“Who knew?”
“My doctors. Frankie. A few trusted employees.”
Sadi looked at the note.
“Then one of those people is lying.”
Desmond said nothing.
Outside, the gates began to close.
May you like
For the first time, Sadi realized that the mansion wasn't simply protecting a dangerous man.
It might also be keeping him trapped with someone who wanted him dead.
