Chapter 7 - The Drive Behind the Wedding PhotographSadie returned to her house with police.
This time, she did not feel like she was entering Boyd’s territory.
She felt like she was entering a crime scene.
Maybe it always had been one.
She walked into the bedroom.
The bed was made.
Boyd had insisted on hospital corners every morning.
Sadie stared at the wedding photograph on the dresser.
She had been twenty-eight.
Boyd was smiling.
She remembered people telling her how lucky she was.
Boyd was steady.
Boyd worked hard.
Boyd adored her.
Sadie picked up the frame.
Heavy.
Too heavy.
Three months earlier, after the incident with the silver drive, Boyd had taken it upstairs.
Sadie had heard a screwdriver.
Later, she noticed the wedding frame sitting slightly crooked.
She had straightened it.
Then forgotten.
Now she removed the cardboard backing.
A small compartment had been cut behind the photograph.
Inside was the silver flash drive.
Detective Voss exhaled.
“Sadie.”
Sadie stared.
“Six years.”
“What?”
“I cleaned around this frame every week.”
Her eyes filled.
“It was right here.”
Voss touched her shoulder lightly.
“You didn’t know what you were looking for.”
That sentence stayed with Sadie.
You didn’t know what you were looking for.
Maybe that was true about more than the drive.
At police headquarters, digital forensics opened it.
The files were devastating.
Payments.
Photographs.
Recorded calls.
Hotel maps.
Police schedules.
Construction bids.
A detailed plan to kill Marcello.
Dominic Vieri’s name never appeared directly.
But initials did.
D.V.
And one audio recording contained Boyd speaking to Vincent Falco.
“Dominic wants his brother gone before Erie signs.”
Nobody needed initials after that.
Marcello listened from his hospital room through a secure connection.
He said nothing.
Sadie watched his face on the screen.
There was no satisfaction.
Only grief.
Betrayal by blood hurt differently.
She understood that too.
At the end of the recording, Vincent Falco said something unexpected.
“And the wife?”
Boyd answered.
“What about her?”
“She knows too much.”
“I’ll handle Sadie.”
“How?”
Boyd laughed.
“She already has an accident history.”
Sadie froze.
Voss stopped the recording.
“What accident history?”
Sadie could barely speak.
“Three years ago.”
Marcello’s voice came through the screen.
“What happened?”
“I fell down the basement stairs.”
Silence.
Sadie stared at the table.
“I thought I slipped.”
Voss looked at her.
“Were you alone?”
“Boyd was upstairs.”
“Were you drinking?”
“No.”
“Any reason you would have fallen?”
Sadie shook her head.
Memories returned.
Walking downstairs.
Laundry basket.
A sharp pain at the back of her knee.
Falling.
Boyd running down.
Telling the paramedics she had been clumsy.
He had been behind her.
Sadie’s breathing changed.
“No.”
Voss leaned closer.
“Sadie?”
“He pushed me.”
The realization did not arrive dramatically.
It arrived quietly.
Almost gently.
That made it worse.
“He pushed me.”
Her voice broke.
Marcello stood from his hospital bed.
Anthony appeared beside him.
Sadie covered her face.
Three years.
Three years she had believed she was careless.
Boyd had told the story at parties.
Sadie and those stairs.
Everyone laughed.
She had laughed too.
Because that was easier.
Voss stopped the audio review.
But Sadie lowered her hands.
“No.”
“Sadie—”
“Play the rest.”
Marcello said, “You don’t have to.”
She looked at the screen.
“I know.”
That was precisely why she wanted to.
Voss continued.
The next file contained another conversation.
Boyd.
Nina.
Boyd saying:
“If anything happens to Vieri, Sadie takes the fall.”
Nina responded:
“She’s your wife.”
Boyd laughed.
“She’s insurance.”
Sadie closed her eyes.
That hurt more than the threat.
Not because she loved him.
She finally understood that she did not.
Maybe she had not for years.
What hurt was recognizing how little he had ever loved her.
The marriage she spent six years trying to save had existed only for one person.
Her.
When the recordings ended, Detective Voss closed the laptop.
“We can charge him with conspiracy, attempted framing, fraud, domestic assault-related offenses, and possibly attempted murder depending on what we establish about the stair incident.”
Sadie breathed.
“Will it be enough?”
Voss looked at the evidence.
“Yes.”
A message arrived on Anthony’s phone.
He read it.
Then looked toward Marcello’s screen.
“Dominic moved.”
Marcello became still.
“How?”
“Called an emergency board meeting for Vieri Holdings tomorrow morning.”
Anthony smiled coldly.
“He says you’re medically incapacitated.”
Sadie understood.
Dominic believed his plan had worked.
Marcello looked at Voss.
“Can you move on him?”
“Not yet.”
Marcello frowned.
Voss continued.
“We need him tying himself directly to the conspiracy.”
Sadie thought about Boyd’s meeting at St. Agnes.
Tomorrow.
Eleven o’clock.
“Boyd is going to the church.”
Marcello immediately knew where this was heading.
“No.”
Sadie sighed.
“You need another word.”
“I’m serious.”
“So am I.”
Voss intervened.
“We can wire Sadie.”
Marcello looked at her as if she had suggested throwing Sadie off a bridge.
“No.”
Sadie stood.
“Stop.”
Marcello looked at her.
“You keep telling me Boyd doesn’t get to decide what I do.”
“He doesn’t.”
“Neither do you.”
The words hit.
Marcello became quiet.
Sadie continued.
“I’m not going because I owe you anything.”
“I know.”
“I’m not going because I want revenge.”
“Good.”
“I’m going because Boyd thinks I’m still his wife.”
She lifted her chin.
“He thinks he can talk me into believing him.”
Marcello’s jaw tightened.
“And if he realizes you’re wired?”
“I’ll have police twenty yards away.”
“Twenty yards is a long distance when a man has a gun.”
Sadie hesitated.
That was true.
Marcello saw it.
He stepped closer to the camera.
His voice changed.
“Sadie, I’m not telling you what to do.”
She looked at him.
“I’m asking you not to risk your life because you think you need to prove you’re brave.”
She swallowed.
“I don’t.”
“Good.”
“I’m already brave.”
For several seconds, Marcello said nothing.
Then he nodded.
“Yes.”
Sadie looked at Detective Voss.
“What are the safety procedures?”
They spent three hours planning.
The next morning, Sadie wore a wire beneath a gray sweater.
Police officers occupied an empty house across from St. Agnes.
Anthony positioned private security farther out.
Marcello remained officially hospitalized.
At 10:58 a.m., Boyd arrived.
He looked thinner.
Tired.
But when he saw Sadie, he smiled like a husband coming home from work.
“Hey, sweetheart.”
Sadie’s stomach turned.
She stood beside her car.
“Where’s Dominic?”
Boyd’s smile disappeared.
There.
A tiny reaction.
Sadie saw it.
“What?”
“You heard me.”
“Why would Dominic Vieri be here?”
Sadie held up the silver flash drive.
Boyd’s eyes locked onto it.
“I have everything.”
He took one step forward.
Sadie stepped backward.
“Don’t.”
Boyd stopped.
For six years, he would not have.
Now he did.
Only because he wanted the drive.
“Give it to me.”
“Tell me the truth.”
“About what?”
“Everything.”
Boyd glanced around.
Sadie saw nerves.
He was waiting for someone.
Just like at the hotel.
“You never planned to leave with me,” she said.
Boyd sighed.
“Sadie.”
“You planned to kill me.”
“You’re being dramatic again.”
She almost smiled.
“You really should find new material.”
Anger flashed.
Good.
Angry Boyd talked too much.
Sadie continued.
“Was the basement the first time?”
Boyd froze.
“Did you push me?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“You were behind me.”
“I tried to catch you.”
“You lied.”
Boyd’s jaw tightened.
“Fine.”
Sadie stopped breathing.
Boyd leaned closer.
“You want truth?”
“Yes.”
“You were becoming difficult.”
Her entire body went cold.
Boyd continued.
“You kept talking about taking classes. Getting a better job. Opening your own account.”
His eyes hardened.
“You were forgetting how good you had it.”
Across the street, Detective Voss listened to every word.
Sadie forced herself to continue.
“So you pushed me.”
“It was supposed to scare you.”
“You broke two ribs.”
“You healed.”
Sadie stared at him.
Something inside her finally severed.
Not cracked.
Not bent.
Severed.
Every final thread connecting her to the man she married disappeared.
Boyd held out his hand.
“Drive.”
Sadie did not move.
“Who ordered Marcello killed?”
Boyd smiled.
“You already know.”
“Say it.”
“No.”
He looked past her.
Then smiled wider.
Sadie’s pulse jumped.
A black sedan had entered the parking lot.
Boyd whispered, “Ask him yourself.”
The rear door opened.
A tall man stepped out.
Same dark hair as Marcello.
Same shoulders.
Same cold eyes.
Dominic Vieri.
He looked at Sadie.
Then at the drive.
“Mrs. Gable.”
He smiled.
“You’ve caused my family a remarkable amount of trouble.”
And somewhere across the street, Detective Voss whispered into her radio:
May you like
“Nobody moves yet.”
Because Dominic had finally stepped into the trap.
Related Stories
