Chapter 4 - The Shadows on 4th Street
The warehouse on 4th Street smelled of rusted metal, old river water, and fear.
Rain trickled down from leaks in the high corrugated roof, splashing onto the cold concrete floor. In the center of the room, illuminated by a single overhead bulb, Derek Mercer was tied to a reinforced steel chair. His nose was bleeding, his designer shirt torn at the shoulder.
Frank stood beside him, wiping his thick knuckles with a white rag, while Victor kept watch near the heavy iron doors.
The heavy sound of my leather boots echoed through the cavernous space as I walked toward him. I tossed my coat over a wooden crate and rolled up my French cuffs.
"Ethan! Please!" Derek sobbed, his head jerking up as I approached. "I didn't hurt her! I swear to God, Lena is alive!"
I didn't answer right away. I pulled a wooden chair across the concrete, set it directly in front of him, and sat down, leaning my elbows on my knees.
"You have five minutes, Derek," I said calmly. "At minute six, Frank starts taking fingers. At minute ten, we move to knees. Tell me about the trust."
Derek swallowed, his breath coming in ragged, terrified hitches. "It... it wasn't my idea! It was the Moretti family!"
My eyes narrowed. The Moretti syndicate was a rival syndicate operating out of Kansas City, constantly trying to force their way into St. Louis freight routes.
"Go on," I said.
"Dominic Moretti bought up the surrounding land for the freight terminal," Derek stammered, tears cutting clean streaks through the grime on his cheeks. "He needed Lena’s three hundred acres to complete the parcel. She refused to sell. She wanted to preserve the land as a nature reserve in her father's memory. So Moretti approached me. He offered me two million dollars to get her to sign the development rights over."
"So you married her," I said, disgust pooling in my gut.
"She was lonely! Her father had just died!" Derek cried. "I made her feel safe! But then she got pregnant with your kid, Ethan! She realized who I really was when she found Moretti’s men in my office six months ago. She hid the land in a trust for the baby so I couldn't touch it!"
I leaned forward, my jaw clenched so tight my teeth burned. "Where is she, Derek?"
"Moretti’s guys took her to the old grain silo on the riverfront," Derek whimpered, completely breaking down. "They’re forcing her to sign an emergency conservatorship document tonight. They brought in a dirty judge from Jefferson City to notarize it. Once she signs, they’re going to stage a car crash on Highway 94."
I stood up, my chair scraping violently against the floor.
"Is Dominic Moretti there himself?" I asked.
"His younger brother, Paul, is running the operation," Derek wheezed. "They have six guys with submachine guns. Ethan, I gave you what you wanted! Let me go!"
I looked at Frank. "Keep him tied up. If Lena has a single scratch on her when I find her, put a bullet through his head and throw him in the Mississippi."
"Got it, Boss," Frank nodded grimly.
I turned to Victor. "Call the main crew. Twelve men, full tactical gear, heavy weapons. We’re taking the riverfront."
"Boss," Victor said, pulling out his radio. "What about the dirty judge?"
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I checked the action on my custom Kimber .45, sliding a full magazine into the grip with a sharp, satisfying clack.
"Judges are subject to the same laws of gravity as everyone else," I said. "Let's go get my wife."
