Chapter 4 - THE MIDNIGHT BREAK-IN
The apartment smelled of damp plaster and stale coffee.
Rebecca tossed her keys onto the scarred kitchen table.
Her feet throbbed.
Her uniform clung damply to her skin.
She pulled out Roman Costa’s black business card.
She stared at the silver numbers under the dim overhead bulb.
Why did he look at me like that?
She asked herself the question in the quiet dark.
It wasn't just gratitude for helping his mother.
It was suspicion.
As if he knew something about her past.
Something she had spent five years burying in small-town diners.
A sudden sound shattered her thoughts.
A soft click at the front door lock.
Rebecca froze.
Her breath caught in her throat.
The deadbolt turned.
The door swung inward with a faint squeak.
A shadow slipped into the hallway.
Tall.
Silent.
Carrying a suppressed pistol.
Panic surged through Rebecca’s veins.
She backed away toward the kitchen counter.
Her fingers brushed against a heavy cast-iron skillet.
The intruder moved toward the bedroom.
Searching.
Hunting.
Rebecca gripped the handle of the skillet.
Her heart pounded like a drum in her ears.
The man stepped into the kitchen light.
He wore a dark tactical jacket.
His face was hidden behind a black ski mask.
He raised his weapon toward the dark hallway.
Rebecca didn't wait.
She swung the cast-iron skillet with every ounce of strength she possessed.
Clang!
The heavy iron struck the intruder’s shoulder.
He stumbled sideways against the refrigerator, dropping his pistol.
Rebecca lunged for the fallen gun.
Her fingers closed around cold steel.
She scrambled backward, aiming the weapon with shaking hands.
“Don't move!” she screamed.
The intruder groaned, clutching his bruised shoulder.
He slowly pulled off his ski mask.
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It wasn't one of Viktor Morena’s hitmen.
It was Gary’s nephew, Leo.
