Chapter 4 - The Ghost of Viktor Vance
The man in the tailored suit didn't yell. That was what made him terrifying. He simply stared at Tessa with an analytical, calculating coldness, as if trying to calculate her weight, her background, and her heart rate all at once.
"You speak of Viktor Vance as if he were an acquaintance," the man said softly, his voice dropping an octave. "Most people in the Hudson Valley whisper his name like a curse. Who are you, really? A shipping clerk doesn't walk into a high-security quarantine ward and psychoanalyze a mafia watchdog."
"My name is Tessa Rivera," she replied, refusing to shrink back an inch. "I drive a truck for Guardian Shipping because my grandfather left me a rusty Ford and four thousand dollars in debt. But I grew up on a farm where animals didn't lie to you. That dog in there isn't rabid. He's grieving. And if you kill him because your bosses are too impatient to figure out what he's actually trying to protect, then you're just as cowardly as the men who locked him in here."
Cowell gasped, his face turning a furious shade of plum. "Mr. Sterling, I demand you let me call the sheriff! This girl is obstructing official facility protocols—"
"Shut up, Richard," the man—Sterling—snapped without turning around. He took another step closer to Tessa, his gaze darting down to her worn boots, her faded jacket, and finally back to her eyes. A strange, unreadable expression flickered across his severe features—something that looked almost like grudging respect, buried beneath layers of professional paranoia.
"Viktor Vance didn't keep pets," Sterling murmured, more to himself than to them. "He kept weapons with pulses. When he disappeared from his estate on the ridge last month, the federal marshals swept the property. They found empty safes, encrypted hard drives, and one blind, unapproachable Neapolitan Mastiff that nobody could get near without a tranquilizer gun. The estate executors ordered him put down to close the property ledger clean."
"Because a dead dog can't bark about what was hidden in those safes," Tessa said sharply.
Sterling’s head snapped up. The silence in the hallway became absolute, broken only by the low, steady hum of the fluorescent light above them.
Inside the reinforced room, a sudden, heavy thud shook the door. It wasn't an angry blow. It sounded like a massive head resting heavily against the steel panel, followed by a long, shuddering sigh that whistled through the bottom gap.
Sterling looked at the reinforced door, then back at Tessa. A slow, dangerous smile touched the corners of his mouth.
"You think you can get in there?" Sterling asked quietly.
"If you unlock the door," Tessa said.
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"If I unlock that door, he will shatter your collarbone before you can take a second breath," Sterling warned. "And I won't stop him. I have a clean disposal order signed by the county magistrate in my pocket right now."
"Then unlock it," Tessa challenged. "Let's find out how good your paperwork really is."
