Chapter 3: The Man in the Gray Coat
The entire shack fell silent.
Even the rain seemed quieter.
Emma stood frozen in place, shielding her younger brothers and sisters with her small body.
Her face had turned completely white.
Michael struggled to sit up on the mattress.
The fever still burned through him, but fear gave him strength.
"Don't open the door," he whispered.
Victor looked from one child to another.
Every single one of them looked terrified.
Not nervous.
Not worried.
Terrified.
The kind of fear children only learn after experiencing something awful.
Outside, another knock echoed through the shack.
Knock.
Knock.
Knock.
This time it was harder.
More impatient.
"Emma," the voice called again.
"I know you're in there."
The little girl began trembling uncontrollably.
Victor stepped toward the door.
Immediately, Emma grabbed his sleeve.
"No!"
Her voice cracked.
"Please don't let him in."
Victor crouched down.
"Who is he?"
Tears filled her eyes.
"He came after Mom disappeared."
The words hit like a hammer.
Victor's expression darkened.
"What did he want?"
Emma swallowed hard.
"He kept asking questions."
"What questions?"
"Where Mom hid it."
Victor frowned.
"Hid what?"
Emma shook her head.
"I don't know."
Outside, the man knocked again.
This time the entire wooden frame rattled.
"Open the door."
Victor slowly stood.
For years he had built businesses, negotiated million-dollar contracts, and dealt with dangerous people.
But something about this situation felt wrong.
Very wrong.
He quietly walked to one of the cracked windows and peeked through a gap in the wood.
A black sedan sat outside.
Three men stood near it.
One remained by the vehicle.
Another smoked a cigarette.
The third stood at the door.
Gray coat.
Exactly as described in the notebook.
The man appeared to be in his late forties.
Clean-shaven.
Expensive clothing.
Cold eyes.
The type of person who smiled without warmth.
Victor immediately recognized him.
And what he realized made his stomach tighten.
His name was Richard Kane.
A wealthy property developer.
A man with political connections.
A man who had appeared in newspapers dozens of times.
Victor had met him twice at charity events.
He had disliked him instantly.
Richard knocked again.
Louder.
"Emma."
"We need to talk."
Victor turned back toward the children.
"Stay behind me."
Before anyone could stop him, he unlocked the door.
The moment it opened, Richard smiled.
Then the smile disappeared.
Because Emma wasn't standing there.
Victor Hayes was.
For the first time, Richard looked surprised.
"Mr. Hayes."
Victor crossed his arms.
"Richard."
The two men stared at each other.
Rain dripped from the roof between them.
Richard recovered quickly.
"I wasn't expecting company."
"I can say the same."
Richard glanced past Victor.
Toward the children.
Emma immediately stepped backward.
Richard noticed.
His smile returned.
"Emma and I are old friends."
"No," Michael rasped from behind.
"You're not."
The room grew tense.
Richard's eyes briefly flickered toward Michael.
Something dark passed across his face.
Then it vanished.
"Children often misunderstand adults."
Victor wasn't buying it.
Neither were the children.
"What do you want?" Victor asked.
Richard's gaze hardened.
"I'm looking for something that belongs to me."
Victor remembered the notebook.
Where Mom hid it.
Whatever "it" was, Richard clearly wanted it badly.
Emma suddenly spoke.
"We don't have it."
Richard smiled.
"Your mother said the same thing."
Victor saw Emma flinch.
His heart sank.
The notebook hadn't been a warning.
It had been evidence.
Their mother had been afraid.
Very afraid.
"What happened to their mother?" Victor asked.
Richard's smile faded.
"I don't know."
The answer came too quickly.
Too smoothly.
A lie.
Victor could feel it.
Richard stepped forward.
"I think it's time for me to speak with the children alone."
Victor didn't move.
"No."
The single word hung in the air.
Richard's eyes narrowed.
Rainwater dripped from the brim of his coat.
"You may not understand the situation."
"I understand enough."
For several seconds neither man moved.
Then Richard's phone rang.
He glanced at the screen.
And suddenly his expression changed.
Just for a moment.
But Victor saw it.
Concern.
Real concern.
Richard answered immediately.
"What?"
Silence.
Then his face drained of color.
"What do you mean they found it?"
Victor's attention sharpened.
Found what?
Richard turned away from the door.
His voice dropped to a whisper.
But Victor caught part of the conversation.
"...the storage unit?"
"...who opened it?"
"...impossible..."
When the call ended, Richard looked furious.
Terrified.
And desperate.
Without another word, he stormed back toward the sedan.
His men followed.
Seconds later, the vehicle disappeared into the rain.
The children stared through the doorway.
Confused.
Relieved.
But Victor wasn't relieved.
Because he knew something had just changed.
He closed the door and turned around.
Then he noticed Emma staring at the notebook.
Her eyes were fixed on the final page.
Victor opened it.
A folded piece of paper slipped out.
One that had been hidden between the pages.
Emma gasped.
Michael sat upright despite his fever.
Victor unfolded the note.
Inside was a handwritten address.
A storage facility on the north side of the city.
Below it was a message written by the children's mother.
If you are reading this, then I may already be gone.
Everything Richard wants is inside Locker 214.
Do not let him get there first.
And beneath that message was one final sentence.
The sentence that made Victor's pulse race.
Because it explained why someone powerful might be hunting a single mother and her children.
The note read:
May you like
"I have proof of who murdered your father."
TO BE CONTINUED...
