Chapter 4 - The Life Cassie Refused to Owe
Gordon Pike was not supposed to know anything about medical shipments.
That was the first problem.
The second was that he had met our driver less than an hour before Unit 419 disappeared.
The third was that the driver, Raymond Cole, claimed he remembered almost nothing after leaving the Bellacort distribution hub.
Police believed he had been drugged.
I watched the security video in my office.
Gordon approached the truck.
Raymond lowered the window.
They spoke for less than a minute.
Gordon handed him a paper cup.
Raymond drank.
Forty minutes later, Unit 419 disappeared.
“Why would a restaurant manager be handing my driver coffee?” I asked.
Marco enlarged another frame.
“Because he knew him.”
Background checks showed Gordon’s younger brother had worked alongside Raymond at another freight company eight years earlier.
The brother now worked for a transport brokerage connected through two shell companies to Anthony Sabatino.
There it was.
Not proof.
But a path.
“Police have this?”
“Yes.”
“Good.”
Marco looked almost disappointed.
“You aren’t going to visit Pike?”
“No.”
“Growth.”
“I hate you.”
“Therapy is working.”
I pointed toward the door.
“Leave.”
He did not.
“Cassie know?”
“No.”
“Should she?”
“If police question her, yes.”
“They probably will.”
My jaw tightened.
I did not want Gordon’s criminal connections moving anywhere near her.
That instinct frightened me because it could easily become control disguised as protection.
I called Rebecca.
“Have police contact Cassie directly. Not through us.”
“Good.”
“Also arrange security around Walter’s hospital.”
Rebecca paused.
“Does Cassie know?”
“No.”
“Then don’t.”
I leaned back.
“I don’t like that answer.”
“I know. But you don’t get to secretly put armed men around someone because you’re worried.”
“People connected to Gordon—”
“Tell her the risk. Offer security. Let her decide.”
Cassie had said nearly the same thing.
Rich men deciding what reality should look like for everyone else.
I hated how often she was right.
I called.
She answered after five rings.
“My father’s sleeping.”
“Can you talk?”
“That introduction is terrifying.”
“It’s Gordon.”
Silence.
“What about him?”
I explained only what law enforcement had confirmed.
Gordon appeared on video with my driver.
Police might contact her.
He could be connected to the stolen medical shipment.
Cassie listened without interrupting.
Then said, “That ridiculous bottle of wine somehow led to organized crime.”
“No. Gordon was already connected. We just noticed him because of what he did to you.”
“Am I in danger?”
The directness made me answer carefully.
“I don’t know.”
“That means maybe.”
“Yes.”
“Dad?”
“I have no evidence anyone is interested in Walter.”
“But?”
“I would feel better if you had security.”
“Your people?”
“Yes.”
“No.”
I expected the answer.
It still irritated me.
“Cassie.”
“Can the hospital provide security?”
“Yes.”
“Then I’ll use theirs.”
“They are not the same.”
“I know. But I’m not putting mafia security around my father’s cardiac floor.”
“They work for Bellacort Systems.”
“They also work for you.”
“Yes.”
“No.”
I closed my eyes.
“All right.”
She sounded surprised.
“That’s it?”
“What would you prefer? Kidnapping?”
“Bad joke.”
“Extremely.”
A tiny laugh.
Then she said, “Police already called.”
“When?”
“Ten minutes ago.”
“What did they ask?”
“Whether Gordon ever discussed trucking, medical supplies, or Bellacort.”
“Did he?”
“No.”
“Anything strange?”
Cassie became quiet.
“Maybe.”
“What?”
“Sometimes Gordon let men use the private dining room after close.”
“What men?”
“I don’t know.”
“Descriptions?”
“I gave them to the detective.”
“Good.”
“One came in three times. Expensive suit. Gray hair. Scar near his ear.”
I knew someone matching that description.
Vincent Sabatino.
Anthony’s uncle.
My blood cooled.
“You did the right thing.”
“Dominic?”
“Yes?”
“Do not start doing the scary quiet voice.”
“I don’t have a scary quiet voice.”
“You absolutely do.”
Despite everything, I smiled.
Tuesday arrived.
Walter’s surgery began at 6:42 A.M.
I did not go to the hospital.
Cassie had not invited me.
At 7:05, she texted:
They took him back.
I replied:
I’m here if you need anything.
At 9:30:
Still nothing.
At 11:14:
Surgeon came out. Procedure went well. They’re monitoring him.
I stared at the message for a long time.
Relief felt disproportionate for a man I had never met.
I replied:
That’s excellent news.
Then another message came.
Cassie:
You can come if you want.
I read it twice.
Then stood so quickly Priya looked up.
“Where are you going?”
“Hospital.”
She smiled.
“Take flowers for the father. Food for the daughter.”
I stopped.
“What food?”
“She’s been in a hospital since six in the morning.”
Right.
I had nearly brought flowers and forgotten the practical thing.
Priya shook her head.
“This is why you’re single.”
I arrived with soup, sandwiches, coffee, and a small plant because cut flowers were restricted in parts of the cardiac unit.
Cassie sat in the waiting room curled into a chair.
She stood when she saw me.
Her eyes moved over my suit.
“No flannel?”
“I’m expanding my wardrobe.”
She hugged me.
No warning.
No calculation.
Just exhaustion.
My arms closed around her.
She smelled like coffee and hospital soap.
For three seconds, perhaps four, the world became strangely simple.
Then Cassie stepped back.
“Sorry.”
“Don’t be.”
“I haven’t slept.”
“I brought food.”
Her face brightened more than it would have for diamonds.
“Now I understand your wealth.”
We ate terrible soup from paper containers.
Cassie told me about Walter.
He had raised her alone after her mother died from breast cancer when Cassie was fourteen.
He worked overtime so she could attend nursing school.
Then his heart condition worsened.
She left school.
He hated that she did.
“He thinks I gave up my life for him,” she said.
“Did you?”
“No.”
She stirred her soup.
“I postponed it.”
“Difference matters.”
She looked at me.
“Do you have children?”
“No.”
“Want them?”
The question caught me.
“Yes.”
“Why don’t you?”
“I’m missing an important component.”
“A woman?”
“A woman who doesn’t throw liquids.”
Cassie laughed.
Then became serious.
“You know Vanessa texted me.”
Everything inside me sharpened.
“How does Vanessa have your number?”
“She came back to the restaurant looking for you.”
“When?”
“The morning after our date. Before Gordon fired me.”
“What did she want?”
“To know your last name.”
“Did you tell her?”
“I didn’t know it.”
“And now?”
“She messaged through social media after the story about the truck.”
“What did she say?”
Cassie took out her phone.
Vanessa’s message was short.
I owe you a warning. Dominic Bellacort is not what he pretends to be. Men around him get hurt. Women around him become accessories. Don’t confuse his attention with respect.
I read it twice.
Cassie watched me.
“Well?”
“She’s not entirely wrong.”
That surprised her.
“Which part?”
“Men around me have been hurt.”
“And women?”
“I’ve been bad at relationships.”
“Accessories?”
“No.”
“You sure?”
“No.”
She smiled faintly.
“At least that answer is less arrogant.”
I returned the phone.
“Why show me?”
“Because I wanted your reaction.”
“Another test?”
“Apparently you’re contagious.”
We smiled.
Then an elderly voice spoke behind us.
“So this is the refrigerator gangster.”
Cassie froze.
Walter Doyle stood in the doorway supported by a nurse.
He looked pale.
Thin.
But his eyes were sharp.
“Dad!”
Cassie rushed to him.
“You are not supposed to be walking alone.”
“I have a nurse.”
Walter looked at me.
Then at my suit.
“You’re Dominic Bellacort.”
“Yes, sir.”
“I knew your father.”
The room seemed to change.
Cassie looked between us.
“You what?”
Walter sat carefully.
“Years ago.”
I moved closer.
“How?”
“Port Newark.”
My father had controlled parts of shipping at Port Newark during the ugliest years of our family history.
Walter continued.
“I repaired refrigeration units for a trucking company that moved Bellacort produce.”
“Produce?”
He smiled.
“Sometimes it was actually produce.”
Cassie closed her eyes.
“Oh my God.”
Walter looked at me.
“Your father, Salvatore, used to walk around in a camel coat acting like he owned the docks.”
“He probably did.”
“He thought he did.”
A faint smile touched my mouth.
“That sounds like him.”
Walter’s expression hardened.
“He also saved my job.”
I did not expect that.
“How?”
“My foreman blamed me for a compressor failure I warned him about. Salvatore happened to hear the argument. Told the owner he’d move every Bellacort contract unless they investigated.”
Cassie stared.
“My father did that?”
Walter nodded.
“Your father had a lot of sins.”
His gaze met mine.
“But people aren’t just one thing.”
The sentence landed.
Cassie looked down.
Walter continued.
“I heard what you’re trying to do with the family businesses.”
“Some days better than others.”
“That’s usually how change works.”
The nurse interrupted.
Walter needed rest.
Before leaving, he pointed at me.
“Don’t hurt my daughter.”
Cassie turned red.
“Dad.”
Walter ignored her.
“I’m old enough to know men with power can confuse wanting something with deserving it.”
I nodded.
“Yes, sir.”
“And Cassie doesn’t owe you anything because you helped with paperwork.”
“I know.”
“Good.”
He looked at his daughter.
“And you don’t have to hate a man because he has money.”
“I don’t.”
“You look like you’re trying.”
Cassie stared at him.
The nurse laughed.
After Walter left, I looked at Cassie.
“I like him.”
“He’s medicated.”
“Still.”
She covered her face.
“I’m moving to another state.”
“Bellacort operates in three.”
“That sounded like a threat.”
“It was logistics.”
For the first time since table twelve, Cassie reached for my hand deliberately.
Her fingers closed around mine.
“Thank you for coming.”
I looked at our hands.
“Thank you for asking.”
The moment lasted until Marco called.
I almost ignored it.
Then I saw the emergency code.
I answered.
“What?”
“We found part of the stolen shipment.”
“Where?”
“Cold-storage unit in Queens.”
“Police?”
“Already there.”
“Then why are you calling me?”
“Because there’s something else.”
His voice changed.
“Dominic, every box has a Bellacort security seal.”
“That’s normal.”
“No.”
He paused.
“The seals were manufactured last month.”
I understood immediately.
Our original shipment seals had not been stolen.
Someone had created duplicates.
May you like
That meant the hijacking was not only connected to criminals outside Bellacort.
Someone inside my company had helped them.
