Chapter 23 - The Ghosts of Bellevue
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By dusk, Logan had secured the perimeter of the estate, calling in a small team of trusted off-duty officers to watch over Noah and Lily. Ethan and I sat in the back of a discreet rental car as Logan drove us down the rain-slicked highway toward downtown Bellevue.
The neon lights of the city bounced off the wet pavement like scattered diamonds. My hand remained locked in Ethan's, afraid that if I loosened my grip, the last six hours would prove to be nothing more than a cruel hallucination.
"How did Thomas Sterling help you?" I asked, looking sideways at Ethan's profile.
"Thomas intercepted the emergency call when my sedan went over the embankment in Idaho," Ethan explained, his eyes watching the mirrors. "Victor’s men set an explosive device on my brake line. Thomas was already tailing them. He pulled me from the burning wreck before the fuel tank detonated, substituted dental records from a local morgue, and flew me out on a federal transport."
"And you couldn't call me? Not once?" I pressed, the lingering pain of my grief bubbling to the surface.
"Every second I spent in that clinic, I wanted to reach for a phone," Ethan said softly, bringing my hand to his lips. "But your father had wiretaps on your home, your personal phone, even your vehicle. If I made one sound, they would have known I was alive, and Thomas’s sting operation would have collapsed before we gathered the master files."
Logan brought the car to a smooth halt in the subterranean parking garage of the Bellevue Hotel.
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"Room 204 is on the secondary mezzanine level," Logan warned, checking his rearview mirror. "It's off the main elevator track. If anyone tailed us from the estate, they'll have a hard time ambushing us in those hallways."
We stepped out into the chilly concrete garage, the silence broken only by the hum of the ventilation shafts.
