Chapter 8 - THE MAN WHO RAISED HIM
“Someone your father trusted enough to give his own house keys.”
Dominic stared at Leah Torres.
Then he slowly sat down.
“Raymond.”
He said the name like it hurt.
His father's younger brother.
The man who had taken him to school after the fire.
The man who'd attended his graduation.
The man who'd taught him how to run the family businesses.
I watched Dominic struggle to breathe normally.
“Are you certain that's what Evelyn said?” he asked.
Leah nodded.
“She said Rourke had helped hide the truth, but someone else was responsible for starting the fire.”
Detective Reyes leaned forward.
“Did she give a name?”
Leah hesitated.
“I heard her say Raymond.”
Dominic closed his eyes.
I reached toward him.
Then stopped.
I had only known him for two days.
I wasn't sure whether he wanted comfort from a woman who might be his sister.
But he looked up.
And for a moment, he seemed less like a powerful man than a little boy discovering that the adult he'd trusted had lied to him.
“My uncle raised me,” he whispered.
I sat beside him.
“I know.”
“He taught me to drive.”
His voice shook.
“He used to take me to my father's grave every birthday.”
Leah looked devastated.
“I'm sorry.”
Dominic shook his head.
“You didn't do this.”
Detective Reyes asked Leah to explain everything she remembered about Evelyn's final hours.
Leah described seeing Evelyn standing beside the administrative office.
Her coat was open.
She carried a worn brown handbag.
Rourke was arguing with her.
Vance stood near the doorway.
“Did you hear what they wanted?” the detective asked.
“Rourke kept asking where she'd put the original records.”
“What records?”
“She mentioned a transfer involving the Caruso children.”
Dominic looked up.
“Both children?”
Leah nodded.
“She said he'd stolen from them before they were old enough to understand.”
My stomach tightened.
“Did she have the documents with her?”
“I don't know.”
Leah wiped her cheeks.
“After she was injured, Vance took her handbag.”
“What happened to her coat?” Detective Reyes asked.
“He told another employee to put it in storage.”
The detective made a note.
The property records from 1995 were being reviewed.
The financial records from Willow Gardens were being preserved.
And the authorities were checking whether Evelyn's death had resulted from an assault and delayed medical care.
Nothing was finished.
But the pieces were beginning to connect.
That afternoon, Dominic and I returned to June's hospital room.
Mom was sitting in bed, wearing her yellow shawl.
She looked at us.
“Something happened.”
I sat beside her.
“Leah remembered more about Evelyn.”
Mom's expression changed.
“Was she frightened?”
I nodded.
“She was trying to prove what happened to Dominic's father.”
June looked at Dominic.
“And did she?”
“We're getting closer.”
He pulled up a chair.
“June, I need to ask about Raymond.”
Mom lowered her eyes.
“The man with the ring.”
“Yes.”
“Did he threaten Maggie?”
She shook her head.
“No.”
“Did he help Rourke?”
Mom hesitated.
“He came with him.”
“But you said he stopped Rourke.”
“Yes.”
Dominic studied her.
“What exactly did he do?”
June thought carefully.
“Rourke wanted me to hand Maggie over. Raymond told him to leave her alone.”
“Why?”
“He said there'd already been enough damage.”
Dominic looked down.
Mom continued.
“After Rourke went toward the car, Raymond came back.”
I leaned forward.
“He came back?”
She nodded.
“He stood on the porch and asked whether I could really keep the child safe.”
“What did you say?” Dominic asked.
“That I'd die before letting someone hurt her.”
Tears filled her eyes.
“He looked terribly sad.”
Dominic swallowed.
“Did he give you anything?”
“No.”
Then Mom hesitated.
“He asked whether Evelyn had mentioned another child.”
Dominic went still.
“Me?”
June nodded.
“I told him she had.”
“What did he say?”
“He said the boy was safe.”
The silence afterward was painful.
Raymond had known where Maggie was.
He'd known she was alive.
And he had spent the next thirty-one years letting Dominic search for a sister who lived less than an hour away.
But he'd also stopped Rourke from taking her.
I looked at Dominic.
“He wasn't simply protecting Rourke.”
“No,” Dominic whispered.
“He was protecting himself, too.”
That evening, Detective Reyes returned with an update.
Investigators had located the original property transfer records.
The business had belonged to Salvatore Caruso.
Under an earlier family arrangement, portions of the property were intended to benefit both of his children.
Dominic.
And Margaret.
Me.
But after the fire, those interests had been handled through a revised estate transaction.
One signature purported to be Evelyn's.
Another belonged to Raymond.
And the financial proceeds eventually reached companies associated with Victor Rourke.
“Are you saying Rourke stole our inheritance?” I asked.
“We're investigating whether the transfer was fraudulent,” Detective Reyes replied.
Dominic looked at the papers.
“My uncle told me the property had been sold to pay debts.”
“Some debts were paid,” she said. “But the accounting doesn't explain the full proceeds.”
I stared at the numbers.
I worked with invoices every day.
I knew how easy it was to hide something in a stack of ordinary-looking paperwork.
But one date caught my eye.
“Wait.”
The detective looked up.
“This says Margaret Caruso's interest was released because she was deceased.”
Dominic leaned forward.
I pointed to the document.
“That's me, isn't it?”
He nodded slowly.
My hands began shaking.
The entry listed the date on which my supposed death had been reported.
October fourteenth, 1995.
Two days before the fire.
Two days before June said Evelyn brought me to her house.
I looked toward Mom.
“You remember the date she brought me?”
“October sixteenth,” she whispered.
“Are you certain?”
She nodded.
“It was the night of the fire.”
I looked back at the records.
The dates didn't match.
They couldn't.
Someone had claimed I was dead before I'd even disappeared.
Detective Reyes studied the entry.
Her expression changed.
“That's significant.”
Dominic gripped the edge of the table.
“Rourke and Raymond didn't simply take advantage of what happened after the fire.”
He looked at me.
“They had already prepared to remove you from the family records.”
I stared at my own name.
At the word deceased.
At the date.
Then I whispered the question that frightened me most.
“If they planned to make me disappear before the fire, what was supposed to happen to me that night?”
Dominic looked toward the detective.
She didn't answer.
But her silence was enough.
For the first time, I understood that Evelyn hadn't simply hidden me from a dangerous man.
May you like
She might have saved me from a plan that had begun before my father died.
And the person who helped make it happen was the same man who raised my brother.
