Chapter 5 - The Confession
I stood perfectly still, the cold metal of my gun leveled at the woman who had cared for my mother.
"If you pull that trigger, you will never leave this room alive," I promised.
Delia kept her weapon pressed against Ray's temple, her hand completely steady.
"I didn't come here to kill him, Julian."
"I came here to force him to tell you the truth about the Pier 44 fire."
Ray thrashed against the ropes binding him to the cheap wooden chair.
"Don't listen to her, she is working for Celeste!" Ray shouted frantically.
I fired a single shot into the floorboard, an inch from Ray's boot.
The deafening crack of the gunshot silenced them both instantly.
"I am done listening to liars," I growled, taking a slow step into the room.
"Ray, tell me exactly what happened the night my brother died."
Ray swallowed hard, looking desperately from the bullet hole in the floor to the gun in Delia's hand.
"I was the one who poured the gasoline on the pier," Ray confessed, his voice breaking.
"Celeste paid me fifty thousand dollars to start the fire as a distraction."
"But I swear to God, Julian, she told me the warehouse was going to be empty."
"She just wanted to destroy the shipping manifest so the syndicate couldn't track her family's stolen cargo."
Delia pressed the barrel harder against his skull.
"Tell him the rest of it."
Ray squeezed his eyes shut, tears leaking down his bruised face.
"When I lit the match, I saw Ewan running out of the back office."
"He wasn't trapped by the fire, Julian."
"He was running toward a black SUV waiting at the edge of the docks."
"And Celeste was the one driving it."
The revelation hit me like a physical blow to the sternum.
Ewan hadn't been captured by the Vandermarks; he had willingly gotten into the car with them.
Before I could ask another question, the front window of the motel room shattered violently inward.
A barrage of automatic gunfire tore through the thin drywall, shredding the cheap curtains and showering us in glass.
I dove sideways, tackling Delia to the ground as bullets chewed the space where she had just been standing.
Ray screamed in agony as a stray round clipped his shoulder, tipping his wooden chair backward onto the floor.
"We have to move!" I yelled, pulling Delia toward the adjoining bathroom.
Three heavily armed men wearing Vandermark tactical gear kicked the broken door off its hinges.
They swept the room with military precision, completely ignoring the bleeding dockworker on the floor.
They were not here for Ray, and they were not here for me.
They raised their rifles, aiming directly at the bathroom door where Delia was taking cover.
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"Execute the nurse," the lead gunman commanded over the deafening noise.
"Celeste wants her silenced before the wedding."
