Chapter 2 - The Name on the Photograph
Karina lasted exactly twenty-three more minutes at the Continental.
Then Sal fired her.
“You've got to be kidding.”
Sal folded his arms.
“Mr. Graham requested you be removed from service.”
“Why?”
“Does it matter?”
“Yes.”
“No, it doesn't.”
Karina stared at him.
“Tell him I quit.”
Sal looked relieved.
“You won't get another job in this part of town.”
Karina untied her apron.
“Then I'll work somewhere else.”
She tossed it onto the counter.
Mara hugged her.
“Call me.”
“I will.”
Karina stepped outside into cold Manhattan rain.
She had no umbrella.
Her dress was already damp.
She walked three blocks before a black sedan pulled beside her.
The rear window lowered.
Levi Garrison looked out.
“Get in.”
Karina continued walking.
“I said get in.”
“I heard you.”
“Vincent wants to talk.”
“Vincent can talk to himself.”
Levi sighed.
“He usually does.”
Karina stopped.
“What does he want?”
“To know why you know the Graham waltz.”
Her stomach tightened.
“I don't.”
Levi gave her a look.
“That was a terrible lie.”
She started walking again.
“Karina.”
She stopped.
Levi's tone changed.
“If Vincent wanted you dead, he'd never have let you leave the floor.”
She slowly turned.
“That's supposed to make me feel better?”
“No.”
He opened the door.
“It's supposed to make you understand the seriousness of refusing him.”
Karina considered her options.
Then she got in.
The interior smelled like leather and cedar.
She sat as far from Levi as possible.
The car drove to a townhouse on the Upper East Side.
The first thing Karina noticed was that there were no visible guards.
The second was the music.
A piano played somewhere upstairs.
Vincent was standing near a window when she entered.
He wore a white shirt with his sleeves rolled up.
No jacket.
No tie.
Without the club lights and the cigar smoke, he looked younger.
More dangerous, somehow.
He turned.
“You came.”
“I was given transportation I couldn't refuse.”
Levi walked away.
Vincent gestured toward the chair.
“Sit.”
Karina remained standing.
“You wanted to talk.”
“Yes.”
“Talk.”
He studied her.
“Where did you learn that waltz?”
“My father.”
Vincent's expression changed instantly.
“What was his name?”
Karina almost lied.
Instead, she said:
“Kenji Yoda.”
Vincent went completely still.
The room seemed to shrink.
“Say that again.”
“Kenji Yoda.”
Vincent walked toward her.
“My father knew a Kenji Yoda.”
“So did mine.”
“What was his job?”
“Driver.”
Vincent stopped.
“My father had three drivers.”
“He had one who could do his accounts, repair his cars, translate three languages, and remember every route between Manhattan and the docks.”
Vincent stared.
“That was him.”
Karina nodded.
“Why didn't you tell anyone?”
“Because I'm not stupid.”
He almost smiled.
“No.”
His gaze hardened.
“You're much worse.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means you're careful.”
He walked toward a cabinet.
Opened a drawer.
Removed a photograph.
He placed it on the table.
Karina looked.
Her father stood beside a younger Adrian Graham.
Both men were smiling.
Behind them was a ballroom.
Karina's breath caught.
She had seen that ballroom.
As a child.
She remembered hiding beneath a piano while her father practiced waltzes with Adrian.
“What year?”
Vincent answered.
“1999.”
Karina touched the photo.
“That was before I was born.”
“I know.”
Vincent sat.
“Why did your father leave us?”
“My mother said he got scared.”
“Of what?”
Karina looked up.
“I don't know.”
Vincent studied her face.
“He stole something.”
Karina's pulse raced.
“What?”
“An account book.”
She already knew.
Her father had told her one thing before he died.
Never let the Graham family find the red ledger.
She had assumed it was superstition.
Now she understood.
Vincent leaned forward.
“Do you have it?”
“No.”
“That's another lie.”
Karina stood.
“I didn't come here to discuss my father's mistakes.”
Vincent's eyes sharpened.
“You came to the Continental for a reason.”
“How do you know?”
“Because nobody takes a waitress job there unless they need something.”
He was right.
Karina folded her arms.
“What if I came for the money?”
“I don't believe you.”
“What if I came to escape my landlord?”
“I don't believe you.”
“What if I just liked the food?”
Vincent's mouth twitched.
“Terrible food.”
She almost smiled.
Then she remembered who he was.
“My father died owing people money.”
Vincent leaned back.
“Who?”
“I don't know.”
“I can find out.”
“I don't want you to.”
“Why?”
“Because I don't want another Graham debt attached to my name.”
His face changed.
“You think my family killed him?”
“No.”
“That wasn't the question.”
Karina said nothing.
Vincent stood.
“Your father disappeared after taking something from Adrian.”
“My father didn't disappear.”
“When did he die?”
“Eight years ago.”
“Cause?”
“Heart failure.”
Vincent frowned.
“Your mother?”
“Dead.”
“Any siblings?”
“No.”
“Anyone else?”
Karina hesitated.
“My aunt.”
“Where?”
“Queens.”
Vincent nodded slowly.
Then he asked the question that terrified her.
“What does your aunt keep in her attic?”
Karina's face went pale.
“How do you know about that?”
“Because your father wrote me a letter.”
She stared.
“What?”
Vincent walked to another cabinet.
He removed a sealed envelope.
The name on it was unmistakable.
Kenji Yoda.
The handwriting was old.
Karina reached for it.
Vincent didn't give it to her.
“My father received this one week before your father's death.”
“Then why didn't he open it?”
“He did.”
“And?”
“He never told me what it said.”
“Where is it?”
Vincent looked at her.
“Burned.”
Karina's heart dropped.
“Then how do you know?”
“I know because my father told me before he died.”
“What did he say?”
Vincent stared into the fireplace.
“He said, ‘If Kenji ever sends for the girl, protect her from our family.’”
Karina could not breathe.
“What girl?”
Vincent looked at her.
“You.”
Silence.
“You've been looking for something,” he said.
“Yes.”
“What?”
Karina stared at the floor.
“The truth.”
“About your father?”
“Yes.”
“Then you're going to need help.”
“I don't want help.”
Vincent's voice softened.
“You do.”
She looked up.
“Why?”
“Because someone else is looking for the same thing.”
“Who?”
Vincent's answer was quiet.
“Levi.”
Karina frowned.
“What?”
“Not Levi.”
He corrected himself.
“Someone inside my organization.”
He walked toward the window.
“Someone has been stealing from me for eighteen months.”
Karina's pulse quickened.
“What are they stealing?”
“Money.”
“That's all?”
“No.”
Vincent turned.
“They've been moving money through accounts connected to the old Graham routes.”
Karina remembered the red ledger.
“What if it's connected?”
Vincent looked at her.
“I think it is.”
“You think my father hid an accounting record.”
“I think your father hid evidence.”
“Against whom?”
“My uncle.”
Karina's stomach tightened.
“Who is your uncle?”
Vincent said the name.
“Roman Graham.”
She had heard it before.
Always in whispers.
Roman had supposedly died in prison.
Except he had disappeared ten years before.
Vincent continued.
“Roman was my father's younger brother.”
“And your enemy?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“He wanted control.”
Karina shook her head.
“Every powerful family says that.”
Vincent stepped closer.
“My family wasn't powerful because we were good at business.”
She waited.
“We were powerful because we were willing to do things decent people wouldn't.”
Karina looked at him.
“And you?”
He stared back.
“I was raised to be that man.”
“Are you?”
The question surprised him.
“No.”
It came out almost involuntarily.
He looked away.
“Not anymore.”
Karina studied him.
For a moment she believed him.
That frightened her more than anything.
Then the front door opened.
Levi entered.
“Vince.”
Vincent turned.
“What?”
“We've got a problem.”
“Where?”
“The warehouse.”
Vincent's face hardened.
“Which warehouse?”
“Chelsea.”
Karina stepped back.
Levi looked at her.
“You should go.”
Vincent shook his head.
“No.”
He looked at Karina.
“She stays.”
“Why?”
“Because whoever is moving the money may know about her father.”
Karina's heart started pounding.
Twenty minutes later, she was inside a Graham warehouse in Chelsea.
Crates filled the floor.
Men with radios moved quickly.
A safe had been opened.
Papers were scattered everywhere.
Vincent walked into the office.
“What was taken?”
Levi handed him a folder.
“Old records.”
Vincent opened it.
Then he stopped.
Karina watched from behind.
“What?”
Vincent held up a document.
A signature.
Kenji Yoda.
“This shouldn't be here.”
Karina moved closer.
“What is it?”
Vincent showed her.
It was a transport manifest dated eighteen years earlier.
The cargo description was coded.
But there was one handwritten note.
Protected asset.
Do not route through Roman.
Karina stared.
“Roman was involved.”
Vincent nodded.
“And my father knew.”
“More than knew.”
Levi pointed to another page.
“Look at the initials.”
Karina recognized them.
K.Y.
Then another.
A.G.
Adrian Graham.
They had worked together.
Not just as employer and driver.
As partners.
“What were they moving?” Karina whispered.
Vincent did not answer.
He turned another page.
A photograph fell out.
A young girl.
Perhaps eight years old.
Standing beside Adrian Graham.
Karina looked at the face.
Her own face stared back.
She stepped away.
“I don't understand.”
Vincent looked at her.
“I think I do.”
“What?”
“You weren't just my father's driver's daughter.”
He held the photograph.
“My father knew you.”
The room became silent.
“How?”
“I don't know.”
Then one of the guards shouted.
“Boss!”
Everyone turned.
A man ran into the office.
“We found this in the safe.”
He handed Vincent a black envelope.
Vincent opened it.
Inside was a single message.
Stop looking for the red ledger.
Vincent read it.
Karina read it too.
There was a second line.
And stop protecting the girl.
Vincent's eyes darkened.
May you like
He looked at Karina.
“They know you're here.”
