Chapter 2 - The Man Dominic Romano Claimed He Killed Was Still AliveFor several seconds, nobody moved.
Then Vincent slowly walked toward Charlotte.
“Where is your mother?”
Charlotte's eyes filled with tears.
“I don't know.”
“What happened?”
“She told me to run.”
“When?”
“This morning.”
“Why?”
“They came to our apartment.”
“Who?”
Charlotte shook her head.
“I don't know.”
Mercer stepped forward.
“Vincent, this child is clearly being used.”
Vincent turned.
“Leave.”
Mercer's expression tightened.
“This is a funeral.”
“I know exactly where I am.”
“Dominic's recording could have been fabricated.”
Vincent looked at him.
“You're right.”
Mercer smiled.
Then Vincent continued.
“But you wouldn't know that, would you?”
Mercer's smile disappeared.
Vincent gestured toward the door.
“Go.”
Mercer hesitated.
Then he left.
Charlotte watched him go.
“He knows my mother.”
Vincent looked at her.
“Yes.”
“How?”
“I don't know.”
The recorder crackled again.
Dominic's voice returned.
“Vincent, if Mercer is still alive, don't trust him.”
Vincent's eyes narrowed.
Charlotte didn't understand.
“Why?”
The recording continued.
“He was there when Christopher disappeared.”
Vincent stared at the recorder.
Then he pulled out his phone and called someone.
“Get me every file we have on Christopher Vale.”
He hung up.
The funeral director returned nervously.
“Mr. Moretti, perhaps we should—”
“Close the doors.”
The man nodded.
Vincent looked at Charlotte.
“Come with me.”
She stepped forward.
“Where?”
“A private room.”
She hesitated.
“Are you going to take the recorder?”
“No.”
“Are you going to hurt me?”
Vincent looked genuinely offended.
“No.”
“My mother said men like you lie.”
“She was right.”
Charlotte looked at him.
“But I'm not lying now.”
He held out his hand.
Charlotte took it.
He walked her through a side corridor.
Behind them, Dominic Romano's funeral continued in silence.
The private room was small.
Vincent closed the door.
Charlotte sat.
He crouched in front of her.
“Tell me everything your mother said.”
Charlotte repeated it.
Every word.
The warning.
The brass key.
The red ribbon.
The funeral.
Dominic.
Then Vincent asked the question that changed the room.
“Did your mother ever tell you your father's name?”
Charlotte nodded.
“She said Christopher.”
“Christopher what?”
“Vale.”
Vincent sat down.
“Did you ever see a picture?”
“No.”
“Did your mother have one?”
“I think so.”
“Where?”
“In a box.”
“What box?”
“My mother's wedding box.”
Vincent closed his eyes.
“What does your mother look like?”
“Brown hair.”
“Eyes?”
“Green.”
“Scar on her left hand?”
Charlotte stared.
“Yes.”
Vincent stood.
“Her name is Evelyn Vale.”
Charlotte nodded.
“You know her.”
Vincent laughed once.
Not because anything was funny.
Because the pieces were finally fitting.
“Evelyn Vale died twelve years ago.”
Charlotte stared.
“My mom is twenty-nine.”
“I know.”
“And she's alive.”
“I believe you.”
The recorder crackled.
Dominic spoke.
“Because Evelyn Vale is the reason Christopher survived.”
Vincent turned toward the recorder.
“What happened?”
Dominic answered.
“Christopher was investigating us.”
Vincent's jaw tightened.
“Us?”
“My family.”
The recording continued.
“Christopher discovered Orpheus.”
Vincent frowned.
“What is Orpheus?”
“It was your father's private intelligence network,” Dominic said.
Vincent froze.
“My father?”
“Yes.”
Charlotte looked at him.
“Your father was bad?”
Vincent didn't answer.
Dominic did.
“Your father wasn't the worst man involved.”
The recording stopped.
Vincent stared at the machine.
Charlotte noticed something.
The red light on the recorder was blinking.
“That wasn't there before.”
Vincent took it.
The recorder displayed a timer.
00:03:11.
A second recording had activated.
Dominic's voice returned.
“If you found the second recording, it means the first one worked.”
Vincent frowned.
“The hospital bracelet matters,” Dominic said.
“It proves Charlotte was taken from St. Catherine's Hospital twelve years ago.”
Charlotte's eyes widened.
“My mother stole me?”
“No,” Dominic continued.
“She saved you.”
Vincent looked at Charlotte.
“From who?”
Dominic's voice became softer.
“From the people who wanted you dead.”
The recording ended.
Vincent stood in silence.
A knock came.
His lieutenant, Marcus, entered.
“We found the files.”
Vincent turned.
“What did you find?”
Marcus handed him a folder.
“Christopher Vale.”
Vincent opened it.
Photographs.
Police reports.
Bank records.
Death certificate.
Everything.
Except one thing.
There was no body.
Vincent looked up.
“No body?”
Marcus shook his head.
“Vehicle exploded. Investigators assumed he was inside.”
“So nobody confirmed the remains?”
“Teeth were supposedly used.”
“Supposedly?”
Marcus hesitated.
“The file was modified after the investigation.”
“By whom?”
Marcus looked uncomfortable.
“Anthony Mercer.”
Vincent's expression darkened.
Of course.
Mercer.
The man who had told him to ignore Dominic's hand.
The man who had tried to take Charlotte's recorder.
The man who had been Dominic's lawyer for fifteen years.
Vincent called the funeral home.
“Find Mercer.”
A voice answered.
“He left.”
“Where?”
“He took the west entrance.”
Vincent swore.
Marcus immediately moved toward the door.
“Find him.”
Charlotte stood.
“My mother told me to give you the key.”
Vincent looked at her.
“The key?”
She untied the red ribbon.
The brass key fell into Vincent's palm.
Marcus stared.
“What does it open?”
Charlotte shook her head.
“I don't know.”
Vincent examined it.
An engraving ran along the side.
C-17.
Marcus frowned.
“That's an old storage designation.”
Vincent remembered something.
Dominic had once owned a warehouse complex.
C-17.
It had been demolished three years earlier.
Or supposedly demolished.
Vincent called another number.
“I need the old property records.”
Ten minutes later, they had a location.
An abandoned underground storage site beneath the former Romano freight terminal.
Charlotte looked at him.
“Are we going there?”
Vincent nodded.
“Yes.”
“What if it's dangerous?”
“It will be.”
“Are you scared?”
Vincent looked at her.
“Yes.”
Charlotte blinked.
He smiled.
“I'm scared because you're here.”
For the first time since her mother disappeared, Charlotte felt something she had not felt in days.
Safe.
They left the funeral home through the rear entrance.
Snow covered the street.
Vincent put his coat around Charlotte's shoulders.
Then his phone rang.
It was an unknown number.
He answered.
A woman's voice whispered.
“Vincent.”
He froze.
“Evelyn?”
The voice went silent.
Then she said:
“Don't take Charlotte to C-17.”
The call ended.
Vincent looked at the little girl beside him.
Then at the snow.
And finally at the funeral home.
May you like
Someone was watching them.
Because a black SUV across the street had started its engine.
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