Chapter 3 - The Ghost in the Ledger
The crackle of the fireplace was the only sound in the cabin for a long, suffocating moment.
Nora stared at the man who ruled Ironwood Bay, searching his face for a lie, a twitch, a sign of theatrical deceit. But Silas Cade’s face was carved from the same granite as the cliffs outside.
"Save him?" Nora’s voice broke, sharp and hysterical. "You expect me to believe the king of the local underworld showed up at my father's shed out of the goodness of his cold, black heart?"
"I didn't say I was his guardian angel," Silas replied, pouring another finger of whiskey, though he didn't drink it this time. He swirled the amber liquid, watching the light catch the glass. "Caleb owed me a favor. A substantial one. Five years prior, his boat took on water during a nor'easter near Seal Island. My tug pulled him out when the Coast Guard wouldn't even launch their cutters. A debt is a debt in this town, Nora."
"So you came to warn him?"
"I came to tell him that the men who wanted those charts weren't local," Silas said, his eyes narrowing. "They weren't my men. They were outsiders—federal contractors working for a syndicate out of Boston. They wanted the charts, and they wanted Caleb silent permanently. I told him to take his boat, take you, and disappear across the border into Nova Scotia by morning."
Nora’s breath hitched. "He never said anything about Nova Scotia."
"Because he was stubborn," Silas muttered, setting the glass down with a sharp clink. "Stubborn enough to think he could outsmart a federal syndicate with a rusted wrench and a shotgun. He stayed behind to hide the master ledger in the bilge of his old skiff. That was his fatal mistake."
"The ledger," Nora breathed. "The book with all the names."
"The book with every name," Silas corrected. "Politicians, judges, federal agents, and cartel bosses. When your father’s boat went down, those outsiders thought the ledger went down with it to the bottom of the bay. But it didn't."
Silas stepped forward, closing the distance between them until Nora could feel the residual heat radiating off his broad frame.
"If the ledger is still out there," Silas said softly, "and someone finds it before I do, every man, woman, and child in Ironwood Bay is going to burn. Including you."
"Why tell me this?" Nora demanded, stepping back until her shoulders hit the heavy wooden door. "Why not keep your secrets buried with my father?"
A grim, humorless smile touched the corners of Silas’s mouth.
"Because the men who tied me to the ice this morning? They aren't the Boston syndicate. They are my own people. My own captains. They think I'm weak because I wouldn't sell the harbor to the highest bidder last week."
Silas reached into his pocket and pulled out a small, heavy brass key with a notched head. He pressed it directly into Nora's palm, closing her fingers tightly around it.
"They want my throne, Nora. And they want your father's ledger to prove I was losing my grip. That key opens the old sea-locker beneath the lighthouse pier. Inside is everything your father left behind."
Before Nora could pull away, the heavy oak door of the cabin shuddered under a sudden, violent blow from the outside.
Bang. Bang.
"Boss!" a voice shouted from the dark timberline. "We know you're in there! Come out with your hands empty, and maybe we won't burn the whole woods down around you!"
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Silas’s eyes flashed with dark, predatory fury. He reached behind his back, sliding a heavy, nickel-plated Colt 1911 from his waistband, checking the slide with a smooth, practiced click.
"Looks like my associates have arrived for the board meeting," Silas muttered. He looked down at Nora, his expression unreadable. "Well, Nora Wick. Do you want to run back to your diner and serve bad coffee, or do you want to find out who really killed your father?"
