Chapter 8
The coffee turned to acid in my stomach.
“Gone? How is that possible? He was in protective custody!”
“Money talks,” Maya said. “Gallo has plenty. Two guards on the night shift just bought new houses in the last forty-eight hours. They’re not answering their phones. Their families are gone too. Daniel left the facility in an unmarked van at 2:17 AM. No one has seen him since.”
I looked at my father.
His face had gone pale.
“Where would they take him?” I asked.
“Somewhere private,” Maya said. “Somewhere they can ask him questions. About what he’s told the DA. About what Lauren told you last night. About what you know. And then they’re going to make him disappear. Permanently.”
“Call the DA,” I said. “Tell him—”
“Already done. He’s mobilizing every unit he has. State troopers. FBI. Everyone. But Gallo has a three-hour head start. And he knows this area better than anyone. If he doesn’t want to be found, he won’t be. Not unless we get lucky.”
I thought fast.
Daniel was the key.
If Gallo killed him, the case against the organization collapsed.
No testimony.
No deals.
Gallo walked.
And then he would come for Lauren.
And me.
And my parents.
We couldn’t let that happen.
“Maya,” I said. “You said Gallo owns properties. The DA mentioned a farm in Cookeville. A warehouse in La Vergne. Empty houses. Where would he take someone he wanted to… question?”
Maya was quiet.
I heard typing in the background.
“Cookeville farm is too far,” she said. “Three hours each way. Too much time on the open road. Too many chances to be spotted. La Vergne warehouse is already compromised—we hit it last night. That leaves three residential properties. One in Belle Meade. One in Franklin. One out near Pegram. All paid cash. All owned by shell companies tied to Gallo.”
“Which one is most likely?”
“Pegram,” she said without hesitation. “Remote. Twenty-five acres. Surrounded by woods. No neighbors within a mile. The house has a basement. Soundproofed, according to the building permits. Gallo used it for… private meetings. Before he got arrested.”
I looked at my father.
He was already reaching for his car keys.
“Let’s go,” he said.
“Dad, no—”
“I’m not letting you go alone,” he said. “And we don’t have time to argue. Maya, send your team to Pegram. We’ll meet you there.”
“On it,” Maya said. “But Sarah—wait for backup. Don’t go in alone. These people are killers.”
“We’ll wait,” I said.
I hung up.
Grabbed my purse.
My father was already at the door.
“Mom, stay here,” I said. “Lock everything. Call the police if anything seems wrong. Anything at all.”
My mother was crying.
“Be careful,” she said. “Both of you. Please.”
We drove to Pegram.
My father pushed the car to eighty on the highway.
I called the DA on the way.
Told him we were heading to the Pegram property.
He promised units in fifteen minutes.
“Fifteen minutes is too long,” my father said. “If they’re going to kill him, they’ll do it in the first ten after they arrive.”
I knew he was right.
We turned off the main road.
Down a long gravel driveway.
Trees on both sides.
Thick and dark.
At the end of the drive was a house.
Small.
Brick.
Looks abandoned.
Overgrown lawn.
Boarded-up windows.
But there were two cars parked behind the house.
Daniel’s sedan.
And a black van.
No lights on inside.
We parked at the tree line.
Far enough away not to be seen.
“Now we wait,” my father said.
I checked my phone.
Maya was five minutes out.
Police were ten.
I watched the house.
Five minutes passed.
Then ten.
No Maya.
No police.
And then I heard it.
A scream.
From inside the house.
A man’s scream.
Daniel.
They were hurting him.
“We can’t wait,” I said.
“Sarah—”
“They’re killing him in there, Dad. If we wait another five minutes, he’ll be dead. And then they’ll come for us anyway.”
I opened the car door.
“Sarah, get back here!” my father hissed.
But I was already moving.
Staying low.
Using the trees for cover.
My father had no choice but to follow.
We circled around to the back of the house.
The back door was slightly ajar.
Light spilled out into the yard.
I could hear voices now.
Gruff.
Angry.
“Tell us what you told the DA!”
“Nothing! I told you nothing!”
Daniel again.
Crying.
Another scream.
Louder this time.
My father pulled a gun from his waistband.
I stared at it.
“Since when do you carry a gun?”
“Since your husband tried to have you killed,” he whispered. “Stay behind me.”
He pushed the door open.
We stepped inside.
The house smelled of mildew and cigarette smoke.
The voices were coming from the basement.
Down a flight of stairs at the end of the hall.
My father moved quietly down the hall.
Gun raised.
I followed close behind.
We reached the top of the stairs.
Looked down.
The basement was lit by a single bare bulb.
Daniel was tied to a chair.
Shirtless.
Covered in blood.
Two men stood over him.
One was Vincent Gallo.
The same man who had pulled the gun at the police station.
The other was bigger.
Huge.
Holding a pair of pliers.
And standing in the shadows, watching everything, was a third man.
Older.
Silver hair.
Expensive suit.
Anthony Gallo himself.
He had gotten out of jail.
Somehow.
“Last chance,” Anthony said. His voice was calm. Reasonable. Like he was ordering dinner. “What did you tell them about the shipments? The docks? Who else knows?”
“Nothing,” Daniel sobbed. “I swear. I haven’t testified yet. I haven’t told anyone anything. Just let me go. I’ll disappear. Mexico. Brazil. You’ll never hear from me again.”
Anthony sighed.
“Disappointing,” he said.
He nodded at the big man with the pliers.
The big man reached down.
Grabbed Daniel’s left hand.
Daniel screamed.
“NO! PLEASE—”
CRACK.
The sound of breaking bone.
I gasped.
Loud enough for them to hear.
Four heads snapped up.
Looking right at us.
My father fired.
BANG.
The big man with the pliers staggered back.
A red bloom on his shoulder.
He dropped the pliers.
“GO!” my father shouted.
I ran down the stairs.
Straight for Daniel.
Vincent pulled a gun.
My father fired again.
Missed.
Vincent fired back.
The bullet went through my father’s arm.
He grunted but stayed on his feet.
Kept firing.
I reached Daniel.
He was barely conscious.
“Sarah?” he mumbled. “You came for me?”
“Shut up,” I said.
I untied his ropes.
He was dead weight.
I dragged him toward the stairs.
Anthony Gallo was running for the back exit of the basement.
A door I hadn’t seen.
“Let him go!” I shouted. “We need to get out of here!”
Vincent was down.
Shot in the leg.
The big man was unconscious.
But Anthony was gone.
My father was holding his arm.
Blood seeping through his fingers.
“Dad!”
“I’m fine,” he said through gritted teeth. “Get Daniel to the car. Now.”
I half-dragged, half-carried Daniel up the stairs.
Through the kitchen.
Out the back door.
We were halfway to the tree line when we heard sirens.
Loud.
Close.
Red and blue lights flashing through the trees.
Police.
Finally.
I dropped Daniel on the grass.
He was moaning.
Mumbling my name.
My father sat down hard on a rock.
Pressing his arm.
“Dad,” I said, kneeling beside him. “Let me see.”
“Just a graze,” he said. “Hurts like hell, but I’ve had worse.”
Maya burst through the trees.
Gun in hand.
Two men behind her.
“Are you okay?” she shouted.
“We’re fine,” I said. “My father is hit. Daniel is barely alive. Anthony Gallo escaped through a back door in the basement. He headed into the woods.”
Maya spoke into her radio.
“Suspect fleeing on foot, southwest of the main house. All units converge.”
She knelt beside my father.
“Let me see that arm.”
The next hour was chaos.
Paramedics.
Police.
The FBI.
SWAT teams pouring into the woods after Gallo.
Daniel was taken by ambulance.
He had three broken fingers.
Two broken ribs.
A concussion.
And internal bleeding.
They said he would live.
Barely.
My father was taken to the same hospital.
Stitched up.
Given antibiotics.
Told to rest.
I sat in the waiting room again.
Same hospital.
Same chairs.
Different night.
The DA found me there.
He looked exhausted.
“We got Vincent,” he said. “And the big guy, Rook. They’re both in custody. Anthony is still in the wind. But we have every K-9 unit within fifty miles on him. He can’t run forever.”
“Can he?” I said.
The DA sat down beside me.
“Your father is going to be okay,” he said. “The doctor says he’s lucky. The bullet missed the bone. Clean through. And Daniel… well, he’s alive. Which is more than he deserves, probably. But we need him. He’s agreed to testify immediately. Tomorrow morning. Before Gallo can try anything else.”
“Lauren too,” I said. “She’s in this hospital. She’ll testify.”
The DA nodded.
“With both of them,” he said. “And the evidence from the warehouse. And the financial records you provided. We’ve got enough to put Gallo away for twenty lifetimes. And everyone who works for him. This is going to be the biggest takedown in Tennessee history. And it’s all because of you, Sarah.”
I didn’t feel like a hero.
I felt tired.
Dirty.
Like I would never be clean again.
“One thing,” the DA said. “When we searched the basement. We found something. In the wall. Behind a loose brick. Documents. Ledgers. Going back thirty years. Names. Dates. Amounts. Everything Gallo has ever done. And there was a letter. Written recently. Addressed to you.”
He handed me an envelope.
My name on the front.
In Daniel’s handwriting.
I opened it.
May you like
Read it.
And my blood ran cold.
