Chapter 7 - PIER 14
Pier 14 was an abandoned industrial shipping facility on the Hudson River, surrounded by rusted chain-link fences, rotting wooden piers, and decaying brick warehouses.
The afternoon sky had turned a dark, bruised purple, heavy with the promise of another rainstorm.
State police tactical units had taken up hidden sniper positions inside the surrounding abandoned buildings, while Marcus and four plainclothes officers set up a perimeter around the main brick warehouse.
I stood inside the dark, echoing center of the warehouse, wearing a wire beneath my heavy winter coat.
Bailey was miles away, safe inside a protected state police facility under the personal care of a family liaison officer. She was eating lunch, watching cartoons, and finally resting without fear.
The heavy metal door at the front of the warehouse creaked open, sending a sharp beam of gray afternoon light cutting across the dusty concrete floor.
High heels clicked sharply against the floorboards.
Jean walked into the warehouse.
She looked immaculately dressed in a tailored cream trench coat, black leather boots, and designer sunglasses, holding a sleek Italian leather handbag. But behind her dark glasses, her jaw was tight, her posture rigid with fury.
Standing right behind her was Marcus—the hired mercenary I had seen inside David’s study the night before. His hand rested inside his jacket, holding a concealed firearm.
"Harper," Jean said, her voice echoing off the high steel rafters. "Where is the girl?"
I stepped out from behind a stack of wooden shipping crates, keeping my hands visible in front of me.
"She's not here, Jean," I said quietly.
Jean stopped dead in her tracks. She slowly removed her sunglasses, revealing cold, calculation-filled eyes.
"What did you say?" she whispered.
"I said she isn't here," I repeated, my voice steady, echoing with absolute confidence. "Bailey is safe. Far away from you."
Jean’s eyes narrowed into slits. A ugly, vicious sneer contorted her face.
"You lied to me," Jean spat, taking a step forward while her bodyguard drew a suppressed pistol from his shoulder holster. "You brought me out to this dump on a wild goose chase?"
"It wasn't a wild goose chase, Jean," I said, pointing up toward the dark rafters above us. "Look around you."
Before Jean could react, red laser sights flickered to life across the dark warehouse, pinpointing the chests of both Jean and her mercenary!
"STATE POLICE! DROP YOUR WEAPONS! DOWN ON THE GROUND NOW!" Marcus’s voice boomed over a bullhorn from the upper catwalks!
Dozens of tactical officers burst through the side doors, weapons drawn, flashlights blinding the space in bright white light!
The mercenary instantly dropped his firearm and threw his hands into the air, falling to his knees on the concrete.
Jean stood frozen in the center of the room, surrounded by armed officers, her face pale as ash, her cream coat illuminated by twenty blinding beams of light.
She looked at me, her eyes burning with pure, unadulterated hatred.
"You ruined me, Harper!" Jean shrieked, her composure shattering into hysterical rage as officers grabbed her arms and forced her to the floor! "You useless, pathetic little idiot! I built everything! David was weak! He was going to ruin us!"
"You didn't build anything, Jean," I said, walking slowly over to her as the officers snapped heavy steel handcuffs around her wrists. "You poisoned a good man. You terrorized a helpless child. And you thought you were smart enough to get away with it."
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I leaned down close to her ear while the officers pulled her up to her feet.
"Bailey told me everything," I whispered. "And now... you're never going to touch her again."
