Echoes in the Dark

CHAPTER 6- Lines in the Ice

The precinct’s fluorescent lights felt harsher than usual, buzzing faintly over the low murmur of early-shift chatter. Adrian had walked Mara straight from the car to his office, ignoring her protests the entire way.

“I don’t need a babysitter,” she said for the third time, leaning against the desk instead of sitting in the chair he’d pulled out.

“You don’t need to be a target either,” Adrian replied, stripping off his coat and tossing it over the back of his chair. “That photo wasn’t a warning—it was a promise. Whoever’s running this knows where you sleep.”

Mara crossed her arms. “Then maybe we should be focusing on them instead of caging me in here.”

“It’s not a cage. It’s protection.”

“It feels the same.”

Adrian’s jaw ticked. He wasn’t used to people pushing back once he’d made a call, and Mara’s glare was sharp enough to cut through his resolve. But the image of that grainy photo—her silhouette framed in her own apartment window—was still burned into his mind. He wasn’t losing someone else. Not again.

Before the argument could escalate, a knock on the door broke the tension.

Detective Vance stepped in, holding a slim file. “We got a name from the cold storage cameras. One of the guys hauling crates in and out is Eddie Morales. Low-level runner for the Greystone Syndicate.”

Mara straightened. “The same Greystone that’s been laundering money through the port authority?”

“The very same,” Vance said. “And guess who just picked him up trying to pawn a watch that belonged to one of the victims.”

Adrian grabbed his coat again. “Bring him in.”

The interrogation room smelled faintly of disinfectant and stale coffee. Eddie Morales sat slouched in the metal chair, his eyes darting between Adrian and the mirrored wall like he could spot the people watching from the other side. His wiry frame twitched with nervous energy, and his fingers tapped a rapid beat against the tabletop.

Adrian dropped a folder in front of him, letting the photos spill out—victims on cold metal racks, each tagged and numbered.

Eddie’s tapping stopped. “Jesus…”

“You work for them,” Adrian said, voice low but sharp. “You moved those crates. You know what’s inside.”

Eddie swallowed hard. “I move boxes. That’s it. Don’t ask what’s in ‘em, don’t open ‘em.”

Mara stepped closer, sliding a single photograph forward. It showed the knife with the king of spades charm. “You’ve seen this before.”

Eddie’s gaze flicked to it—just for a fraction of a second—but it was enough.

“They call him the Dealer,” Eddie said finally, voice dropping. “Never see his face, but… he runs the game. Cards are his signature. Every time someone crosses him, they get a card before they… y’know.”

Adrian’s eyes narrowed. “So this is all one man’s operation?”

Eddie shook his head. “Nah. He’s just a piece. There’s someone bigger. Way bigger. The kind of guy you never meet ‘cause you don’t live long enough to.”

Mara’s pulse kicked up. “And the bodies? Why store them?”

Eddie hesitated. “Look, I don’t know the details. Just heard whispers… something about extraction. Not organs but something else. Something in the blood.”

Adrian and Mara exchanged a look—equal parts disbelief and dread.

When the interview was over, Eddie was taken back to holding, but the unease lingered like smoke in Adrian’s lungs.

Back in his office, he closed the blinds. “You’re staying at my place tonight.”

Mara’s eyebrows shot up. “Oh, so now I’m moving in?”

“It’s not negotiable. If they’re watching your building, we can’t risk you going home.”

Her mouth opened to argue, but she stopped. There was something in his tone—less command, more… fear. And that scared her more than the photo had.

“Fine,” she said finally, picking up her bag. “But if you snore, I’m leaving.”

Adrian almost smiled. Almost.

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Outside, the city’s neon washed the wet streets in fractured color. Somewhere out there, the Dealer was still dealing and the man above him was waiting in the shadows.

And now, the clock was ticking louder.