Chapter 4 - THE MAN BESIDE MY CAR
Vincent did not answer immediately.
He looked at Agent Chen.
Then at Faith.
Then at Carmine.
Finally at me.
“You brought federal agents into your library.”
“Yes.”
“That is new.”
“So is paralysis.”
His jaw tightened.
Faith shifted near the bookshelves.
I noticed Vincent notice her.
He was good at rooms.
Always had been.
He could see alliances before people admitted they existed.
“Where were you?” I asked again.
Vincent leaned back.
“In the second SUV.”
“I know where you were during the shooting. I asked where you were before.”
Silence.
“Dinner.”
“With?”
He looked at me.
“Gabriel.”
Every part of the room went still.
Carmine whispered, “You knew he was alive.”
Vincent nodded once.
I felt something inside me go cold.
“How long?”
“Six years.”
Faith inhaled sharply.
Mrs. Gable sat down.
Agent Chen opened a notebook.
I stared at the man who had stood beside me through funerals, deals, wars, and hospital corridors.
Six years.
“You met my father’s brother for six years.”
“Yes.”
“And said nothing.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because Michael asked me to.”
That stopped me.
“My father died twelve years ago.”
“He gave me the instruction before he died.”
“You were twenty-three.”
“Twenty-two.”
“Why would he trust you with Gabriel and not me?”
Vincent’s face changed.
“Because you were his son.”
I almost laughed.
“That makes less sense.”
“No.”
He leaned forward.
“It made perfect sense to him. He knew you would turn it into a war.”
“At twenty?”
“Yes.”
“And you wouldn’t?”
“I had no blood claim.”
I hated the logic because I understood it.
“Tell me.”
Vincent looked toward Agent Chen.
“Am I under arrest?”
“No,” she said.
“Can I leave?”
“Legally? At this moment, yes.”
He nodded.
Then looked at me.
“I stayed because I owe you the truth.”
Good.
At least one of us had learned something.
“Gabriel was not dead. He disappeared after Michael’s murder because half the city thought he ordered it and the other half wanted to collect favors from him.”
“Did he order it?”
Vincent’s mouth tightened.
“I don’t know.”
“That answer is becoming fashionable.”
“It is still true.”
“Why meet him?”
“Because he controlled old weapon routes and men who could have destabilized every legitimate business you were trying to build.”
“So you paid him.”
Vincent looked at the tablet with the V.M. entry.
“Yes.”
Faith went still.
Carmine cursed.
Agent Chen said, “How much?”
“Two hundred thousand quarterly at first. Less later.”
“In exchange for?”
“He stayed out of Carter territory.”
My anger sharpened.
“You paid protection to my uncle using my money.”
“Yes.”
“Without telling me.”
“Yes.”
“For six years.”
“Yes.”
I wanted to hit him.
The chair made that difficult.
The humiliation of even thinking about the chair in that moment made the rage worse.
Faith’s voice came quietly.
“Breathe.”
I looked at her.
She did not move toward me.
Did not touch.
Just the word.
Breathe.
I hated that it worked.
I inhaled.
Vincent watched.
Something like pain crossed his face.
“Did Gabriel order the attack?” I asked.
Vincent looked down.
“I think he approved it.”
Think.
“Who planned it?”
“Derek.”
“Who changed the route?”
Vincent’s silence answered.
Carmine stepped forward.
“You.”
Vincent looked at me.
“Yes.”
The room disappeared.
For a second all I heard was the ringing that had filled my ears after the explosion six months earlier.
Metal.
Glass.
My driver screaming once.
Then nothing from him.
I saw Vincent running toward my SUV.
Blood on his collar.
Dragging open the rear door.
Saying my name.
I had thought he saved me.
Maybe he had first placed me there.
“Why?”
Vincent spoke slowly.
“Gabriel told me he had information about a federal informant inside our docks. He demanded a private meeting.”
“With me?”
“Yes.”
“So you changed my route.”
“To get you there without the usual pattern.”
“And you did not tell me.”
“No.”
“Did you know there would be an attack?”
Vincent’s face broke.
“No.”
“Did you know anyone planned to hurt me?”
“No.”
Agent Chen said, “But you altered the route off record.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because Gabriel insisted Carter security had been compromised.”
Carmine laughed coldly.
“And you believed him.”
“I knew one person was feeding schedules.”
“Who?”
“I did not know.”
“You could have told me.”
“I did not know if it was you.”
That hit Carmine.
I looked between them.
Fifteen years of trust.
Men who had survived bullets together.
Now suspicion had been sitting beneath the floor the whole time.
Vincent continued.
“Gabriel gave me the meeting point. I changed the overpass window.”
“The exact time written on the board.”
“Yes.”
“Then the attack began.”
“Yes.”
“Why were you untouched?”
His face went pale.
“I have asked myself that every day.”
Agent Chen said, “The payment sheet lists V.M.”
Vincent nodded.
“My payments to Gabriel.”
“Not payments to you?”
“No.”
“Can you prove that?”
“Yes. Offshore transfers. My authorization code.”
Carmine stared.
“You used your initials on illegal protection payments.”
“I never claimed to be subtle.”
Faith looked at him.
“If you thought Gabriel approved the attack, why not tell Dominic after?”
Vincent’s eyes moved to her.
That was the question.
The real one.
He looked at me.
“Because I had caused it.”
Silence.
“I changed the route. I put you on that overpass.”
His voice cracked slightly.
“When the doctors said you might never walk again, I knew what you would do if you learned Gabriel was connected.”
“What?”
“You would have started a war from a hospital bed.”
“Probably.”
“You were on morphine and ordering men killed.”
I did not remember that.
Carmine did.
His face told me.
Vincent continued.
“So I buried the Gabriel connection.”
“You decided for me.”
“Yes.”
Faith looked at me.
The theme was becoming insulting.
“What did you do instead?” I asked.
“I spent six months hunting him quietly.”
“Found him?”
“Twice.”
“And?”
“He disappeared.”
“Derek?”
“I did not know Derek was involved until three weeks ago.”
“Why not tell me then?”
Vincent looked at the wheelchair.
Not pity.
Guilt.
“You had stopped seeing people.”
I felt anger.
“So?”
“You fired every therapist. Every caretaker. Every consultant. You barely left this floor.”
“That was my decision.”
“Yes.”
His voice hardened.
“And it was killing you.”
Faith looked away.
I hated that everyone in the room knew.
“I thought if I brought you another betrayal, you would disappear completely.”
“So you protected me.”
The words tasted bitter.
Vincent heard it.
“No.”
Good.
He did not use the word.
“I was afraid.”
Better.
“I was afraid you would find out my choice put you in the chair.”
Silence.
“So I chose myself.”
That was the truth.
Ugly.
Clean.
I could work with truth.
Eventually.
Agent Chen closed her notebook.
“Mr. Morello, you will need counsel.”
Vincent nodded.
“I know.”
“You may face conspiracy or obstruction exposure depending on what the records show.”
“I know.”
I looked at him.
“Did you kill my driver?”
“No.”
“Did you know the attack was coming?”
“No.”
“Did you hide Gabriel afterward?”
“I hid the fact I had met him.”
“Did you move money after the attack?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“To keep Gabriel talking.”
“Did he?”
“One message.”
Vincent reached into his inside pocket slowly.
Carmine tensed.
Vincent removed a phone.
Old.
Cheap.
Burner.
He placed it on the table.
“There is one voicemail.”
Agent Chen bagged it.
“Play a copy.”
Vincent recited it from memory before she could.
“‘Michael should have burned the ledger when he had the chance. The chair buys you time. Find Elena before Derek does.’”
Faith stopped breathing.
“Elena.”
“Yes.”
Vincent looked at her.
“That message came four hours after Dominic’s attack.”
Faith stepped closer.
“He knew my mother was alive.”
“Or believed she was.”
“Where?”
“I don’t know.”
“Did you look?”
“Yes.”
“Where?”
“Every old Mason property tied to Gabriel.”
“The rehab center?”
Vincent’s face changed.
“No.”
I noticed.
“Why not?”
“Because it is yours.”
There it was.
The perfect blind spot.
Nobody searches what belongs to the victim.
I looked at Carmine.
“Foundation center.”
He nodded.
“Now.”
Agent Chen raised a hand.
“No private entry.”
I stared.
“You will enjoy procedure less when you need a warrant.”
“We already have probable cause from Jonah’s files.”
That was satisfying.
“Then move.”
She ignored the order but made the call.
Faith’s phone rang.
Unknown number.
She answered.
“Hello?”
Silence.
Then her face drained.
“Mom?”
Every person in the room stopped.
A woman’s voice came faintly through the speaker.
“Faith?”
Faith nearly dropped the phone.
“Oh my God.”
Her knees weakened.
Mrs. Gable stood.
“Elena?”
The voice continued.
“Do not come to the center.”
Faith started crying.
“Where are you?”
“Listen to me.”
“Mom—”
“Derek knows you found Jonah’s files.”
A crash sounded through the phone.
The woman gasped.
Then whispered:
“Room seventeen.”
The line died.
Faith stared at the screen.
C-17.
Cold room.
Room seventeen.
The code was not only a warehouse archive.
It was a person.
Her mother.
May you like
Alive.
And somewhere inside a rehabilitation center bearing my name.
