Chapter 9 - EVERYONE HAD LIED
Domenico walked outside.
He needed air.
Instead he found himself laughing.
Not because anything was funny.
Because if he didn’t laugh, he might put his fist through a wall.
Camilla followed.
“Dad.”
“Not now.”
“I’m sorry.”
“So is everyone.”
She stopped.
Domenico turned toward her.
“You know what the worst part is?”
She shook her head.
“I built my whole life around family.”
His voice cracked.
“I thought whatever happened out there, whatever happened in business, whatever people said about us, when I came home I knew who was standing beside me.”
Camilla cried.
“I never wanted to hurt you.”
“That doesn’t make it hurt less.”
“I thought Michael loved me.”
Domenico looked at her.
“He might.”
She laughed through tears.
“He used me.”
“People can love you and still use you.”
“That’s awful.”
“It’s also true.”
She wiped her eyes.
“Do you hate me?”
Domenico stared at her.
Then pulled her against him.
She broke completely.
“No.”
He kissed the top of her head.
“I’m furious with you.”
She gave a wet laugh.
“I figured.”
“But you’re my daughter.”
Inside, Giuseppe finally told the truth.
Daniel Mercer hadn’t retired.
He went underground after learning that Frank Delaney was tied to a network involving city contracts, union kickbacks and organized crime.
Mercer had entered witness protection unofficially while federal agents built a case.
Then the case collapsed.
Two prosecutors died.
A witness disappeared.
Mercer vanished again.
Giuseppe had helped him.
“Where has he been?” Domenico asked.
“Moving.”
“And Michael?”
“Daniel didn’t trust him with everything. Michael became obsessed. He thought his father abandoned him.”
Marco leaned against the wall.
“So Junior spent years hunting everybody connected to the case.”
Giuseppe nodded.
Camilla looked at him.
“Why does Michael want you?”
“Because I’m the last person who knows where Isabella hid the original ledger.”
Domenico froze.
“You know?”
“I know the final clue.”
“You’ve known all night?”
Giuseppe nodded.
Domenico stared at him.
“You really do have a death wish.”
Giuseppe almost smiled.
“Runs in the family.”
“Where is it?”
Giuseppe looked at the letter.
“Isabella wrote, ‘somewhere only you and I would remember.’ You assumed that meant your father’s garage.”
“It did.”
“No. It pointed you toward the night of the fire.”
“So?”
“After the fire, where did you take her?”
Domenico remembered.
The neighborhood church.
St. Michael’s.
They’d been teenagers.
Isabella was terrified Domenico’s father would kill them.
They hid in the church basement until sunrise.
He laughed softly despite himself.
“She cried for an hour.”
Giuseppe nodded.
“And she carved both your initials into a wooden storage cabinet.”
Domenico’s smile disappeared.
“The church Michael chose.”
“Exactly.”
Camilla whispered, “He knows.”
Giuseppe nodded.
“He knows the evidence is there.”
Marco pushed away from the wall.
“Then we get there before midnight.”
Domenico looked at the clock.
10:46 p.m.
“Tomorrow.”
Marco shook his head.
“No.”
“What?”
“Michael said midnight tomorrow because he wants us to think we have twenty-five hours.”
Domenico understood.
“Unless he means the midnight coming in seventy-four minutes.”
Giuseppe grabbed his coat.
“He does.”
They ran for the door.
And as Domenico started the SUV, Camilla received one final message from Michael.
60 MINUTES.
COME ALONE.
May you like
AND DON’T TRUST MARCO.
HE WAS IN ISABELLA’S CAR THE NIGHT SHE DIED.
