The Daughter's Choice
1309 Words
The rain followed them to New York. Gray and relentless. The truck crawled through the Lincoln Tunnel. Water dripped from the ceiling vents. Cole's shoulder ached. His eyes burned.
Kane navigated from the passenger seat. “She lives in SoHo. A loft on Mercer Street. But we can't just knock on her door. Her father's people are watching.”
“Then how do we reach her?” Cole asked.
“There's a gallery. On Crosby Street. She goes there every Thursday. Alone. Her security waits outside.”
“What day is it?”
“Thursday.”
Frankie pulled the truck to the curb. The gallery was small. Glass front. Abstract paintings in the window. A sign read “Closed for Private Event.”
Cole looked at Kane. “Private event?”
“Juliet's event. She's the only guest. She comes here to be alone. To think.”
“How do you know all this?”
“Because I've been watching her for two years. Waiting for the right moment.”
“And this is the moment?”
Kane nodded. “Cross knows we're coming. He's expecting us to try something desperate. He won't expect this. He doesn't think she matters.”
Cole opened the door. “I go alone.”
“She won't talk to a stranger.”
“Then she won't talk. But I have to try.”
He stepped out into the rain. The street was empty. The gallery door was locked. He knocked.
A woman appeared from the back. Dark hair. Sad eyes. Juliet Cross. She looked at Cole through the glass. Frowned. Walked to the door. Unlocked it.
“We're closed.”
“I know. I'm not here for the art.”
“Then why are you here?”
“To talk about your father.”
Her face hardened. “I don't talk about my father.”
“My name is Cole Mathers. My father worked for yours. Charles Mathers.”
Juliet's eyes widened. She knew the name.
“You're the fugitive.”
“I'm the man your father framed for murder.”
She stepped back. But she didn't close the door.
“Come in. Before someone sees you.”
Cole stepped inside. The gallery was warm. Quiet. The paintings were dark. Angry.
Juliet walked to a bench in the center of the room. Sat down. Cole sat across from her.
“Why are you here?” she asked.
“Because your father has my mother. She's in prison. He's using her to control me.”
“That sounds like him.”
“He also killed my wife. And dozens of others. He runs a criminal empire disguised as a security firm. And he's been doing it for decades.”
Juliet looked at the floor. Her hands were shaking.
“I know.”
Cole leaned forward. “You know?”
“I've known for years. My mother told me. Before she died.” Juliet's voice cracked. “She couldn't live with the guilt. So she killed herself. And my father made it look like an accident.”
“You have evidence?”
“I have her diary. Every crime. Every bribe. Every murder. She wrote it all down. She wanted me to give it to the police after she was gone.”
“But you didn't.”
“Because my father would kill me. He told me. He said if I ever spoke out, he would make me disappear. Like he made everyone else disappear.”
Cole reached out. Touched her hand.
“I'm not asking you to speak out. I'm asking you to let us speak for you. Give me the diary. Let me use it to destroy him.”
Juliet pulled her hand away. Stood up. Walked to the window.
“If I give you the diary, he'll know. He'll come after me.”
“He'll come after you anyway. Eventually. Because you're a loose end. That's what he does. He ties them off.”
She was quiet for a long moment. The rain tapped against the glass.
“My mother's diary is in a safety deposit box. At a bank in Brooklyn. The key is in my apartment.”
“Then we go to your apartment.”
“No. My security team will see you. They'll report back to my father.”
“Then we go without them.”
Juliet turned. Her eyes were wet.
“You're asking me to leave my life behind. To become a fugitive like you.”
“I'm asking you to choose. Your father. Or the truth.”
She walked back to the bench. Sat down. Her body was shaking.
“I need a minute.”
Cole waited. The gallery was silent. The paintings stared down at them.
Then Juliet stood. Her face was different. Harder.
“I'll do it. I'll give you the diary. But you have to promise me something.”
“What?”
“If we fail, you kill me. Before he can take me. I won't go back to that life.”
Cole looked at her. Saw the fear. The desperation.
“I promise.”
They walked to the door. Cole looked outside. The street was empty. The truck was parked around the corner.
“Follow me. Stay close. Don't look back.”
They stepped out into the rain. Walked to the truck. Frankie opened the back door. Juliet climbed in.
Kane looked at her. “Juliet. I'm sorry it came to this.”
“You could have warned me.”
“I couldn't. Your father would have found out.”
Frankie drove. The streets were wet. The buildings blurred.
The bank was in Williamsburg. Old brick. Iron bars on the windows. Cole and Juliet went inside. The clerk recognized her. Led them to the vault.
Juliet opened the safety deposit box. Inside: a leather-bound diary. Thick. Heavy.
She handed it to Cole.
“Everything is in there. Names. Dates. Locations. My mother wanted the truth to come out.”
Cole held the diary. Decades of secrets. Of crimes. Of pain.
“Thank you.”
“Don't thank me. Just make sure he pays.”
They walked back to the truck. Cole climbed in. The diary was in his hands.
Kane looked at it. “Is that what I think it is?”
“The key to everything.”
“Then we need to make copies. Lots of copies. And we need to get them to people who can't be bought.”
“Like who?”
“Like every journalist in the country. Every federal prosecutor. Every senator who isn't on Cross's payroll.”
Frankie drove toward Manhattan. The rain was letting up.
Cole's phone buzzed. A text from Dean.
“Your mother's hearing is tomorrow. 9 AM. Judge Prescott. She's not delaying again. Be there.”
Cole showed Kane the text.
“It's a trap,” Kane said. “Cross wants you there. He'll have armed guards.”
“I know. But I can't let my mother face him alone.”
“You go, you die.”
“Then I die.”
Kane shook his head. “You're as stubborn as your father.”
“I'm nothing like my father.”
“You're exactly like him. That's what scares me.”
The truck crossed the Williamsburg Bridge. The city skyline rose in front of them.
Juliet spoke from the back. “There's another way. Into the courthouse. A tunnel. From the parking garage. My mother used it to escape my father once. He never knew.”
“Can you lead us?” Cole asked.
“Yes. But we need to go tonight. Before the hearing. Before they seal the exits.”
Kane nodded. “We go tonight. Cole, you stay with Juliet. Frankie, you drive. I'll contact my team.”
The plan was set.
But plans had a way of falling apart.
- Writer
