Chapter 8: Nine Minutes
Marcus lowered the phone.
Mrs. Reed stared at him.
“What did they say?””
Marcus looked at the entrance.
“Nothing useful.””
Jordan shook his head.
“That's not true.””
Marcus looked at him.
“You heard the call?””
“No.””
“Then don't guess.””
Jordan stepped closer.
“You've been lying to us since you walked in.””
Marcus's expression hardened.
“Careful.””
“Why?””
“Because you're getting close to a question you aren't ready to answer.””
Jordan stared at him.
“What question?””
Marcus didn't respond.
Mrs. Reed looked toward the second key fob on the floor.
“Why is there another one?””
Marcus walked toward it.
The attorney immediately said, “Don't.””
Marcus stopped.
“You said that before.””
“Yes.””
“And I ignored you.””
“I remember.””
Marcus continued walking.
He crouched and picked up the fob.
It was identical to the first.
Same scratches.
Same worn edges.
Same tiny metal ring.
He turned it over.
Nothing.
He pressed the hidden button.
No light.
He pressed it again.
Still nothing.
Jordan looked relieved.
“Maybe it's fake.””
Marcus shook his head.
“No.””
“How do you know?””
“Because the first one was.””
Jordan frowned.
“The first one was fake?””
“No.””
Marcus looked at the second fob.
“The first one was a warning.””
The attorney's face tightened.
“And this?””
Marcus looked at the entrance.
“A message.””
Mrs. Reed walked toward him.
“What message?””
Marcus held up the fob.
“Someone wants us to know there are two.””
She stared at it.
“Two what?””
Marcus looked at her.
“Two keys.””
Vanessa suddenly stepped backward.
Marcus noticed.
“You know something.””
She shook her head.
“No.””
“Vanessa.””
“I don't.””
“Then why did you move?””
She looked at the second key fob.
“Because I recognize it.””
Jordan turned toward her.
“You said you'd never seen it.””
“I haven't.””
“Then how do you recognize it?””
Vanessa's eyes filled with tears.
“I recognize the ring.””
Marcus looked closer.
A tiny silver marking was etched into the metal.
A number.
*17.*
Mrs. Reed saw it.
“What does seventeen mean?””
Vanessa whispered, “A vehicle.””
Marcus's eyes narrowed.
“Which one?””
She looked toward the row of cars.
“The old inventory system used numbers.””
Mrs. Reed frowned.
“We don't use that anymore.””
Vanessa shook her head.
“Not for sales.””
“For what?””
Vanessa looked at the attorney.
“For transfers.””
Silence.
Marcus turned toward the attorney.
“Transfers of what?””
The attorney said nothing.
Mrs. Reed stepped in front of him.
“Answer him.””
He looked at her.
“You really want to do this here?””
“Yes.””
“Then you're going to regret it.””
Marcus stepped closer.
“That's a threat?””
“No.””
“It sounded like one.””
The attorney lowered his voice.
“You have no idea what you're interfering with.””
Marcus smiled without humor.
“Neither did you.””
The attorney's face tightened.
Mrs. Reed looked between them.
“What does vehicle seventeen mean?””
Vanessa answered.
“It wasn't a vehicle.””
Mrs. Reed frowned.
“Then what was it?””
Vanessa swallowed.
“A storage account.””
Jordan looked confused.
“What does that mean?””
“Records were assigned numbers. Physical files. Keys. Transfer documents.””
Marcus asked, “Where?””
Vanessa hesitated.
“Under the showroom.””
Jordan stared.
“We don't have a basement.””
“Not a basement.””
She pointed toward the rear wall.
“Behind that.””
Marcus followed her finger.
A smooth marble wall stood behind the service corridor.
No door.
No handle.
Nothing.
Mrs. Reed stared.
“There is no storage room.””
Vanessa whispered, “There was.””
“When?””
“Before you bought the dealership.””
Mrs. Reed's eyes narrowed.
“Who told you?””
Vanessa looked at the attorney.
He looked away.
Marcus walked toward the rear wall.
Jordan followed.
“There's nothing there.””
Marcus ran his hand along the marble.
Tap.
Tap.
Tap.
He stopped.
Tapped again.
One section sounded hollow.
Jordan stared.
“What the hell?””
Marcus looked at Vanessa.
“How do you open it?””
“I don't know.””
“You've seen it opened.””
“Yes.””
“How?””
Vanessa closed her eyes.
“With a key.””
Marcus held up the old fob.
“This one?””
“No.””
“The second?””
“No.””
“Then what key?””
Vanessa looked at the black case.
Her voice trembled.
“The owner's key.””
Mrs. Reed went still.
“I have never had one.””
Vanessa whispered, “You did.””
“When?””
“Before you bought the dealership.””
Mrs. Reed shook her head.
“No.””
Marcus looked at the attorney.
“You know where it is.””
The attorney said nothing.
Marcus stepped toward him.
“Where?””
“Stop.””
“Where?””
“I said stop.””
Marcus's voice remained calm.
“Where is the key?””
The attorney reached inside his jacket.
Jordan immediately stepped back.
Marcus raised his hand.
“Slowly.””
The attorney pulled out a small silver key.
Mrs. Reed stared.
“Where did you get that?””
He looked at her.
“You gave it to me.””
“I did not.””
“Yes, you did.””
“When?””
The attorney didn't answer.
Marcus walked closer.
The key had the same number etched into it.
*17.*
Marcus looked at Vanessa.
“Open the wall.””
She shook her head.
“I can't.””
“Why?””
“Because once it opens, the system sends an alert.””
“To whom?””
Vanessa looked at Mrs. Reed.
“To the person who controls the original account.””
Marcus's phone vibrated.
He looked down.
A text message appeared.
*8 MINUTES.*
Then another.
*OPEN THE WALL.*
Jordan stared over his shoulder.
“Who's sending those?””
Marcus put the phone away.
“Someone who knows we're here.””
Mrs. Reed looked at the attorney.
“Give me the key.””
He didn't move.
“Give it to me.””
“No.””
Her expression hardened.
“Why?””
“Because you don't know what's behind that wall.””
Marcus looked at him.
“Neither do you.””
The attorney said nothing.
Marcus held out his hand.
“Key.””
The attorney stared at him.
Then, slowly, placed the silver key in Marcus's palm.
Marcus turned toward the wall.
He inserted it into a tiny seam hidden between two marble panels.
It clicked.
The entire wall unlocked.
A narrow door opened inward.
Cold air spilled across the showroom.
Everyone stared into the darkness beyond.
Marcus stepped forward.
Mrs. Reed grabbed his sleeve.
“Wait.””
Marcus turned.
“What?””
She pointed inside.
A faint red light was glowing in the darkness.
Just like the one on his key fob.
Marcus looked at it.
Then at Mrs. Reed.
“I think we're late.””
From somewhere behind the wall came the sound of a phone ringing.
Once.
Twice.
Three times.
Then a man's voice called from the darkness:
“Marcus?””
He froze.
May you like
The voice continued.
“You finally came back.””
