Chapter 13 - The Tunnel Beneath Boston
The tunnel smelled like wet earth, rust, and old secrets.
Eli led the way with a flashlight clamped between his teeth and Maribel leaning heavily on his shoulder. Belle followed, one hand gripping the hard drive inside her coat pocket, the other pressed against the tunnel wall to keep balance.
Behind them, Saint Oran’s erupted.
Not all at once. First a shout. Then two cracks of gunfire. Then breaking glass. Then the low, hungry whoomph of something catching flame.
Belle stumbled.
Eli looked back. “Keep moving.”
“Renick—”
“Boss knows what he’s doing.”
Belle wanted to believe that.
She didn’t.
Men who knew what they were doing still bled.
The tunnel sloped downward, then curved beneath the clinic grounds. Bricks arched overhead, slick with condensation. Rusted pipes ran along one side. At points, tree roots had broken through like fingers.
Maribel wheezed.
Belle moved beside her. “Almost there.”
“You don’t know that,” Maribel whispered.
“No. But it sounds better.”
Despite everything, Maribel gave a weak laugh.
They reached a fork.
Eli stopped.
“Left,” Maribel said.
Eli frowned. “You know this tunnel?”
Maribel’s face tightened. “Mrs. Kavanaugh showed me.”
Belle stared. “Aisling knew about all of this?”
“She knew enough to be afraid.”
Eli took the left fork.
After forty more feet, the tunnel ended at a metal ladder. Above it, a round hatch.
Eli climbed first. He pushed the hatch open slowly. Cold rain blew in.
“Clear.”
They emerged behind an abandoned church two streets away. The van was gone. The road was empty except for one parked delivery truck and a line of trash cans.
Belle helped Maribel sit on the church steps.
Her phone buzzed.
Not the burner.
Her real phone.
Belle looked at the cracked screen.
Landlord.
She almost ignored it. Then something in her gut tightened.
She answered.
“Mrs. Ashford,” Mr. Dugan said, voice too sweet. “You need to come home.”
Belle’s blood cooled.
“Why?”
“There’s been a problem with your unit.”
“What problem?”
A pause.
“Flooding.”
Belle closed her eyes.
There had been no flooding.
“What did you do?”
“Careful,” he said, sweetness gone. “People who don’t pay rent on time shouldn’t take that tone.”
“I paid.”
“Not for next month.”
“It isn’t next month.”
“It will be.”
Belle heard something behind his voice.
A small sound.
Like drawers being pulled out.
“You’re in my apartment,” she whispered.
Eli turned sharply.
Dugan chuckled. “A man came by asking after your boy. Said there might be a reward.”
Belle’s hand tightened around the phone.
Maribel whispered, “What is it?”
Belle muted the call and looked at Eli. “Someone’s in my apartment.”
Eli swore softly.
Belle unmuted.
“Mr. Dugan,” she said, voice steady. “Listen carefully. If you touch one thing belonging to my son, I will make sure every tenant in that building knows you entered a single mother’s apartment at night without notice.”
He laughed. “With what lawyer?”
Belle looked toward Saint Oran’s, where smoke was rising beyond the trees.
Then she looked at the hard drive in her pocket.
“With the kind that scares rich men,” she said.
She hung up.
Eli was already calling Nora.
Belle grabbed his sleeve. “Micah.”
“He’s safe,” Eli said.
“Call them.”
“I am.”
No answer.
Eli called again.
No answer.
The world narrowed.
Belle’s ears rang.
On the third call, Nora answered, breathless.
“Eli?”
“What happened?”
Nora’s voice cracked. “They hit the townhouse.”
Belle’s knees nearly went out.
Eli caught her.
“Where’s the boy?” he demanded.
A pause.
Belle stopped breathing.
Then Micah’s voice came through, distant but clear.
“Mom?”
Belle grabbed the phone.
“Baby?”
“We’re in the piano room wall.”
Belle closed her eyes in terrible relief.
“What?”
“Brinley knew a hiding place.”
Behind him, Belle heard a small girl whisper.
May you like
Bird boy quiet.
Then Micah whispered into the phone, “Mom, Brinley says the blue-glove lady is in the house.”
