Chapter 2 - THE RECIPE BOXThey escaped through the grease-trap alley in a black SUV that smelled of leather, rain, and gunpowder.
Norah sat between Gabriel and the door while Leo barked instructions into his phone. Benny had been left with two guards and an ambulance. A shard of glass had cut his shoulder, but he was alive.
Gabriel had not said a word since they left the diner.
He held the brass key in his palm. Every few seconds, his thumb moved over its teeth.
Norah watched the city smear into golden lines outside the window. “Where are you taking me?”
“Somewhere safe.”
“Your mansion?”
“No.”
“Good.”
His gaze shifted toward her. “You’re not afraid of me?”
“I’m terrified of you.”
“You don’t act terrified.”
“I’m trying to stay alive. It’s a very motivating emotion.”
For the first time, something almost like humor touched his face. It disappeared before it became a smile.
The SUV stopped beneath an abandoned parking garage on the west side. Gabriel’s men checked every level before they led Norah into a hidden room furnished with two chairs, a sink, and a bank of security monitors.
“You brought me to a bunker?” she asked.
“Temporary shelter.”
“That is a bunker.”
“Fine.”
Leo entered carrying a medical kit. “We need to look at your arm.”
Norah glanced down. A thin line of blood ran from her elbow to her wrist. She hadn’t noticed the cut.
Gabriel immediately stood. “Who touched her?”
“Glass,” Norah said. “Not a person.”
“Sit down.”
Leo cleaned the wound. Gabriel remained near the monitors, watching the street cameras.
“The shooter used a suppressed rifle,” Leo said. “Professional. Two shooters, possibly three.”
“They waited until she mentioned Rosa,” Gabriel replied.
Norah looked at him. “You think they heard me?”
“The diner was cleared before I entered. Someone wanted me there. Someone knew you would cook.”
“That makes no sense.”
“It will.”
He faced her. “Take us to your apartment.”
“My apartment?”
“The recipe box.”
“You’re coming with me?”
“You just became the most valuable person in the city.”
“That is a terrible thing to say to someone making minimum wage.”
“It’s also true.”
An hour later, Norah’s building stood dark beneath the rain. The front door hung open. She knew before she climbed the stairs that something had changed.
Her apartment had been searched.
Drawers were pulled out. Her textbooks lay torn across the floor. The mattress was sliced open. Her tiny kitchen had been emptied into the sink.
The recipe box was gone.
Norah stood in the doorway, unable to breathe.
Gabriel moved past her, scanning the room. “When did you last see it?”
“Yesterday morning.”
“Who knew it existed?”
“Nobody.”
“Think.”
“I said nobody.”
A sound came from the bedroom.
Gabriel raised his gun. Leo moved in front of Norah.
Then a small gray cat crawled from beneath the bed and stared at them with offended eyes.
Norah let out a breath.
Gabriel lowered the weapon, but his attention stayed on the floor. Something beneath the bed had been disturbed. He crouched and ran his fingers along the wooden frame.
“There’s a compartment.”
Norah knelt beside him. Together they pulled away a loose strip of molding. Behind it was a flat envelope sealed with red wax.
Her name was written across the front.
Not Norah.
Nora Bennett.
The spelling was wrong. Or older.
Inside was a single photograph.
A young woman with dark hair stood in a narrow kitchen, holding a baby. Rosa stood beside her, one hand resting protectively on the woman’s shoulder.
The baby wore a small silver bracelet.
On the back of the photograph, someone had written:
If they come for Gabriel, find my daughter’s child. She is the only one Rosa trusts.
Norah stared at the words.
“Who is that woman?” she whispered.
Gabriel took the photograph.
His hand began to shake.
“My mother,” he said.
Norah looked from his face to the baby.
“Then who is the child?”
Gabriel turned the photograph over again.
At the bottom, beneath the message, another line had been written.
May you like
The child in this picture is not the one they think he is.
Behind them, the apartment door clicked shut.
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