Chapter 3 - The Father Who Lied
Roman did not move for almost a full minute.
His father had been dead for eight years.
To everyone else in Chicago, Carlo Bellucci had been a legend.
A feared old-school boss.
A man whose funeral blocked three streets.
To Roman, he had been something more dangerous.
A father whose approval had become law.
"My father ordered me to hunt Thomas Hayes," Roman said quietly.
I turned off the tape.
"He wanted my father dead?"
"He said Thomas betrayed Gabriel to the police, stole money, and disappeared after the warehouse."
"My father never disappeared. He changed jobs. Raised me. Fixed boilers when he couldn't get detective work."
Roman rubbed a hand across his mouth.
"Carlo knew where you lived."
That sentence landed harder than I expected.
"If he knew, why didn't he come?"
"Maybe because your father had insurance."
"Bluebird."
Roman nodded.
Luca stepped closer.
"We should move her."
"I'm standing right here," I said.
Roman ignored me.
"Where?"
"The lake house."
"No," I said.
Both men looked at me.
"I'm not going to some mafia lake house."
"It's not a mafia lake house."
"What makes it different?"
Roman thought about that.
"The taxes are paid."
Luca coughed to hide a laugh.
I pointed at Roman.
"I'm going home."
"No."
"There it is again."
"What?"
"That word you keep using like I'm an employee."
His eyes narrowed.
"Someone just shot at you."
"Someone shot at you too."
"I have security."
"I have locks."
"You have a back door that can be opened with a butter knife."
"How do you know?"
"I checked."
I stared at him.
"That's unsettling."
"It's why you're not sleeping there."
I wanted to argue.
Then I remembered the bullet hitting locker 214.
The older robber saying Salvatore knew about the girl.
I hated Roman for being right.
"One night," I said.
"Until this is over."
"One night."
"We'll renegotiate tomorrow."
"I don't negotiate with criminals."
Roman looked at me.
"You just negotiated your way out of a shotgun robbery."
"Fine. I don't do it twice in one day."
The lake house turned out to be in Lake Forest.
Of course it was.
Stone walls.
Iron gate.
Windows overlooking dark water.
A kitchen larger than my entire apartment.
I stood inside the foyer with my diner uniform still smelling like coffee and gunpowder.
"This is ridiculous."
Roman removed his coat.
"What is?"
"People live like this?"
"Some."
"Do you?"
"When necessary."
"What does that mean?"
"It means I sleep better in the city."
I studied him.
He had spent the last hour making calls.
Quiet ones.
Precise ones.
Salvatore Bellucci had disappeared.
His house was empty.
His driver was gone.
Two family businesses had transferred money overseas that afternoon.
"He knew the locker would be opened," Roman said.
"How?"
"Someone watched Clarence."
"Or me."
Roman looked toward the windows.
"We'll know soon."
At midnight, Luca brought us the first real break.
The older robber had talked.
His name was Mason Kreel.
He had been hired through an intermediary to scare Clarence and take an envelope from his coat. No one was supposed to get hurt unless Clarence resisted.
"Who hired him?" I asked.
Luca glanced at Roman.
"Vincent Bellucci."
Roman went still.
"Your cousin?" I asked.
"My father's godson."
Luca continued.
"Vincent says Salvatore gave him the order."
Roman's expression remained flat.
"Where is Vincent?"
"Missing."
I paced.
"So Salvatore sends two idiots to rob the diner for an envelope. You arrive because someone sends you an anonymous note. That means whoever sent the note wanted you there at the same time."
"Yes."
"Why?"
"Maybe to keep the robbers from killing Clarence."
"Or to make sure I met you."
Roman looked at me.
I thought of my father's letter.
If Norah is with you, protect her.
"What if Bluebird isn't just evidence?" I asked.
Roman waited.
"What if it's a plan?"
A clock ticked somewhere in the house.
"My father knew he might die," I continued. "Clarence knew about the locker. Someone knew you needed to come to the diner. Maybe the pieces were supposed to come together only if Salvatore moved again."
Roman leaned back against the counter.
"You think Thomas designed this fifteen years ago?"
"I think scared people make plans."
He studied me.
"Your father sounds like someone I would have respected."
"He would have hated you."
"Probably."
"But maybe less than he hated your uncle."
Roman gave a short laugh.
It was the first real one I'd heard.
It changed his face.
For one second, he looked like the smiling young man from the photograph.
Then his phone rang.
The smile vanished.
He answered.
"Yes."
Silence.
"When?"
More silence.
"I'm on my way."
He ended the call.
"What happened?" I asked.
"Someone entered Clarence's hospital room ten minutes ago dressed as an orderly."
My stomach dropped.
"Clarence?"
"Alive. My man stopped him."
"Who was it?"
Roman looked at Luca.
"Bring the car."
Then he turned to me.
"The orderly had a syringe full of potassium chloride."
I was already reaching for my coat.
Roman blocked the doorway.
"No."
"Move."
"You're staying here."
"Clarence is family."
"Exactly why you're staying."
I stepped closer.
"You don't know me well enough to tell me what family means."
Something flickered in his eyes.
"I know what it means to lose it."
"So do I."
Neither of us moved.
Then Luca quietly held out a bulletproof vest.
"For what it's worth," he said, "she's going to follow us if we leave her."
Roman glared at him.
Luca shrugged.
"I've known her eight hours and I know that."
Ten minutes later, I was in the back of Roman's armored SUV.
The hospital had doubled security.
Clarence looked exhausted but awake.
When he saw me, he cursed.
"You were supposed to be safe."
"So were you."
Roman closed the door.
"Who sent the man?"
Clarence shook his head.
"He never spoke."
Roman placed the black-and-gold ring description in front of him.
Clarence stared.
"Salvatore."
"You knew."
"I suspected."
"Why didn't you tell me years ago?"
"Because your father was alive."
Roman's voice sharpened.
"My father knew Gabriel survived."
Clarence closed his eyes.
"Yes."
"Did he help Salvatore take him?"
"I don't know."
"That's not good enough."
Clarence looked at him.
"Your father loved you."
Roman laughed bitterly.
"That wasn't my question."
"No. But it's the reason Gabriel didn't contact you."
I frowned.
"What do you mean?"
Clarence looked toward me.
"Gabriel believed Carlo would kill Roman before allowing the family to fracture."
Roman's face hardened.
"My father would never—"
"Your father ordered three men killed for disloyalty the year before Gabriel vanished."
"They betrayed us."
"They disagreed with him."
Roman said nothing.
Clarence continued.
"Gabriel wanted you out."
"Out of what?"
"The family."
Roman's jaw tightened.
"He knew you hated the violence. He knew you stayed because Carlo kept telling you the family would collapse without you."
I watched Roman.
There it was.
The wound.
Not fear.
Duty.
A life built around being indispensable to men who used that belief to chain him.
Clarence reached toward the bedside drawer.
"My coat."
I handed it over.
He pulled at the lining until a small paper packet fell out.
"The envelope they wanted."
Roman opened it.
Inside was a photograph.
A man stood outside a church.
Older than the picture Roman carried.
Thin.
Scar through his eyebrow.
Gabriel.
Alive.
The date stamp was six years after the warehouse fire.
Roman sat down.
"Where was this taken?"
"Milwaukee."
"Who took it?"
"Thomas."
"My father saw him?"
Clarence nodded.
"Once."
"Why didn't he bring him home?"
"Because Gabriel wouldn't come."
Roman's voice dropped.
"Why?"
Clarence looked at the photograph.
"Because Gabriel had a son."
Silence.
Roman stared at him.
"A what?"
"A boy. About five when Thomas found them."
Roman looked at me, then back at Clarence.
"Where is he now?"
"I don't know."
"Name."
Clarence hesitated.
"Gabriel used another name by then."
"His son's name."
"Michael."
Roman rose.
"Last name."
Clarence looked terrified.
"Roman—"
"Last name."
"Hayes."
I stopped breathing.
Roman turned slowly toward me.
I shook my head.
"No."
Clarence's eyes filled with regret.
"Norah, your father didn't only protect Gabriel."
My voice sounded distant.
"What are you saying?"
"He protected Gabriel's child."
I stared at him.
"I don't have a brother."
May you like
Clarence swallowed.
"You did."
