Chapter 11 - The River Warehouse
Rafferty had learned as a boy that fear made men loud.
He had trained himself into silence.
The colder he became, the fewer mistakes he made.
At 12:23, 4 black vehicles moved without headlights along the river road toward the abandoned Vanderpool cold-storage building. Rain swept across the windshield in silver sheets. The Mississippi rolled black beside them.
Silvano sat beside Rafferty.
"We have 6 visible. Maybe more inside."
"Everett?"
"Not on site. Too clean for him."
"Celeste?"
Silvano checked his phone.
"At her father's house. Or her phone is."
Rafferty's jaw tightened.
"Find her real location."
The warehouse appeared through the rain.
Dark brick.
Rusting loading bays.
A single light above a side entrance.
Rafferty did not send men crashing through the front.
He had no interest in drama when a child was inside.
He entered through a storm drain access tunnel that Vanderpool engineers had forgotten to remove from city maps. Silvano led 2 men through the loading dock. Another team cut power to the exterior cameras and looped the feed.
Inside, the warehouse smelled of mold, old fish, and metal.
Rafferty heard a child's muffled cry.
Everything in him went still.
He followed the sound.
In a small office near the far wall, Josie sat tied to a chair with a strip of cloth around her mouth. Her eyes were huge and wet, but she was alive.
A man stood beside her, phone in hand.
Rafferty recognized him.
Clay Fontenot.
A fixer Everett used when lawsuits needed intimidation before they became lawsuits.
Clay looked up.
For one terrible second, his hand moved toward Josie.
Rafferty fired once.
Not at Clay's chest.
At the phone.
The bullet shattered it in his hand.
Clay screamed.
Silvano hit him from the side before he could reach the child.
Rafferty crossed the room and crouched before Josie.
He set his gun on the floor, far away from her line of sight.
Then he raised both hands.
Slow.
Visible.
He signed clumsily: Mother sent me.
Josie sobbed behind the cloth.
Rafferty untied the gag first.
She gasped, "Mama," but the word broke strangely because she could not hear herself.
"Yes," Rafferty said, even though she might not catch it.
He pointed to his cheek, remembering.
Josie placed her trembling palm there.
Rafferty spoke low and steady.
"Your mama is waiting."
She felt the vibration.
Her crying changed.
Not stopped.
Changed.
Hope entering terror sounded like that.
They found one more thing in the office before leaving.
A folder.
Inside were old photographs of Marguerite Delacroix, property deeds, and a birth certificate copy.
Not Fay's.
Marguerite's.
Silvano flipped through the pages and went rigid.
"Rafferty."
Rafferty wrapped Josie in his coat and lifted her carefully.
"Later."
"Now."
Silvano held out the certificate.
Marguerite Delacroix.
Father: unknown.
Mother: Amelie Vanderpool.
Rafferty read the name once.
Then again.
Amelie Vanderpool had been Everett's older sister.
She had disappeared from society at 18 and died young. Officially, illness. Privately, scandal.
Marguerite had not been a random laundry worker Everett once threatened.
She had been his niece.
Fay was Vanderpool blood.
Which meant Celeste had forced her own cousin to kneel on marble.
Rafferty looked toward Clay Fontenot, who was bleeding from the hand and trying not to weep.
"Who ordered the child taken?"
Clay swallowed.
"Mr. Vanderpool."
Rafferty stepped closer.
"Wrong answer."
Clay's eyes darted.
"Celeste. Celeste called. But Everett knew."
Rafferty handed Josie to Silvano.
"Take her to Fay."
Silvano hesitated.
"And you?"
May you like
Rafferty looked down at Clay.
"I am going to have a conversation."
