Chapter 3 - The Offer at Dawn
The sun rose over the Atlantic the next morning like a bleeding wound, smearing streaks of orange and bruised purple across a slate-gray sky. Norma stood on the wooden dock outside her father’s shed, staring down at the sleek black envelope Trevino’s guard had left on her workbench before driving off into the night.
Inside was the deed, the check, and a single business card with a direct, seven-digit private line embossed in silver ink.
"You took it," Thomas said, walking up behind her, holding a mug of steaming black coffee. His eyes were heavy with lack of sleep. He looked at the check lying on the wood, then at his daughter. "Norma, do you have any idea what taking money from Joseph Trevino means? It means you're marked. People like him don't give gifts. They buy loyalty."
"He didn't buy me, Dad," Norma insisted, though even to her own ears, her voice sounded defensive. "He paid a debt. Look around! The shed is safe. We don't have to worry about the winter freeze, or the tax collector, or whether we can afford the parts to fix the trawler's engine."
"And what about the dog?" Thomas nodded toward the corner of the shed, where the little Bernese puppy was currently trying to attack an empty tin can with ferocious, clumsy determination.
Norma bit her lip. Trevino had made it clear: Bruno was hers now. The Ice King didn't take back gifts once they were given, but keeping the puppy meant keeping a direct line to the most dangerous man in the city.
By mid-morning, the dock outside their shop grew unusually quiet. Usually, by ten o'clock, the roar of diesel engines, the shouting of deckhands, and the clatter of loading cranes filled the air. Today, the surrounding berths were eerily still. Boats that usually docked at Pier Four had moved down-channel. The local fishermen, usually eager to chat or barter for mending twine, avoided looking at the Smith shed as they hurried past.
"They're scared," Norma whispered, watching an old acquaintance cross the boardwalk and deliberately look the other way. "Just because Trevino's car was parked here last night."
"Power casts a long shadow, Norma," Thomas said grimly, reaching for his heavy wrenches. "And Trevino casts the longest shadow in the state. You wanted to save a life today? Congratulations. You've just entered a whole new ocean, and the sharks are circling."
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Norma picked up the puppy, holding him close against her chest as he licked a droplet of salt water from her chin. Despite her father's warnings, a strange, defiant spark ignited in her chest. She wasn't going to hide in the shed, and she wasn't going to cower behind closed doors.
Little did she know, her phone—the old, cracked prepaid cell phone sitting on the workbench—was about to vibrate with a message that would change everything.
