Chapter 2 - THE WOMAN BEHIND THE LOCKED DOOR
Gemma did not pick up the money.
She kept the ketchup bottle in her hand and stared at Leo.
“You threaten me again, you can find her yourself.”
Arthur shifted near the door.
Leo lifted one hand.
Arthur stopped.
For several seconds, Leo said nothing.
Then something changed in his face.
Not kindness.
Control.
He stepped back.
“You’re right.”
Gemma almost laughed.
“That’s supposed to fix it?”
“No.”
He looked at the red marks his fingers had left on her wrist.
“I shouldn’t have touched you.”
“You also threatened to burn down my job.”
“I was angry.”
“So?”
“So it wasn’t acceptable.”
That answer confused her more than another threat would have.
Leo took the stack of money from the counter and slipped it back into his coat.
“The door.”
Arthur unlocked it.
Rain noise rushed into the diner again.
Gemma looked at the opening.
“You’re letting me leave?”
“Yes.”
“And you’re going to follow me.”
“Yes.”
“At least you’re honest.”
“I can wait across the street.”
She studied him.
“You really know that ring.”
Leo looked down at his hand.
“I designed both of them.”
“Why?”
His thumb rubbed the cloudy emerald.
“Because the woman I loved hated diamonds.”
That did not sound like the man who had just threatened her.
“She said diamonds looked like something people bought when they ran out of imagination.”
Gemma almost smiled.
Her mother had said exactly the same thing.
The smile disappeared before it formed.
Leo noticed.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
“Gemma.”
“Stop saying my name like you own it.”
His jaw tightened.
Then he nodded.
“Fair.”
She took her coat from the hook behind the register.
Dave finally came through the kitchen door smelling of cigarettes and wet pavement.
He saw the four men.
Saw Gemma.
Saw the locked expression on Arthur’s face.
“What happened?”
“Nothing.”
Gemma tied her apron strings loose and pulled the apron over her head.
“I’m leaving early.”
Dave looked at the clock.
“You’ve got two hours.”
“Take it out of my paycheck.”
“Gem—”
“I said I’m leaving.”
Outside, rain had softened to a steady drizzle.
Three black SUVs waited along the curb.
Gemma stared at them.
“Subtle.”
Leo opened the rear door of the middle one.
“You can sit alone.”
“With one of your guys driving?”
“Yes.”
“And you?”
“Different car.”
She looked surprised.
“I said I would give you space.”
Gemma hesitated.
Then pointed at Arthur.
“He doesn’t come upstairs.”
Arthur almost smiled.
Leo did not.
“Agreed.”
Twenty-four minutes later, they stopped outside a tired three-story brick building on South May Street.
One hallway light flickered.
Trash cans leaned against a rusted fence.
Leo stepped from the other SUV and looked up at the windows.
Gemma hated that expression.
Recognition.
“This is where you live?”
“Don’t sound so offended.”
“I’m not.”
“You look offended.”
“I’m looking at the fire escape.”
“It’s old.”
“It’s detached from the third-floor landing.”
Gemma stared at him.
“You inspect buildings for fun?”
“No.”
“That was a very fast lie.”
He almost answered.
Instead, he looked at the second-floor window.
A lamp moved behind the curtain.
Gemma’s mother was awake.
Gemma climbed the stairs first.
Leo followed twelve feet behind.
Arthur remained downstairs.
At apartment 2B, Gemma unlocked three separate locks.
“Mom?”
No answer.
She entered.
The living room was small but painfully clean.
A blanket covered the worn couch.
Prescription bottles stood beside a ceramic lamp.
The radiator hissed without producing much heat.
“Mom?”
The bedroom door opened.
Her mother stepped out wearing an old blue robe.
She was forty-eight.
Thin.
Dark hair threaded with gray.
Still beautiful in a quiet, exhausted way.
Then she saw Leo.
The color left her face.
One hand rose to the wall.
“No.”
Leo stopped in the doorway.
For the first time since Gemma had met him, he looked completely defenseless.
“Anna.”
Gemma turned sharply.
Her mother’s name was Clare Hayes.
At least that was what every lease, school form and medical paper said.
The woman beside her whispered, “Don’t call me that.”
Gemma stared.
“Mom?”
Her mother’s eyes never left Leo.
“You shouldn’t have come.”
“You’re alive.”
Leo said it like the sentence physically hurt.
Anna closed her eyes.
“I know.”
“You let me think you were dead.”
“No.”
“You vanished.”
“I ran.”
“From me?”
Anna finally looked at Gemma.
That was worse than saying yes.
Gemma backed away.
“What is happening?”
Her mother reached for her.
“Gemma—”
“No.”
She moved out of reach.
“Who is Anna?”
Silence.
“Who is he?”
Leo answered.
“My name is Leo DeLuca.”
Gemma looked at her mother.
“Does that mean something?”
Anna sat down.
“Yes.”
“How?”
Her hands trembled.
Gemma had seen those hands work through fevers, eviction notices, broken heaters and unpaid bills without shaking.
Now they shook.
“Twenty-one years ago, Leo and I were supposed to be married.”
Gemma’s throat tightened.
“And the ring?”
Anna looked toward the bedroom.
Then back at Leo.
“You still have it.”
Leo lifted his right hand.
“I never took it off.”
Something passed between them.
Not romance.
Not exactly.
Grief lived longer than romance.
Gemma folded her arms.
“So you were engaged.”
“Yes,” Anna said.
“And then?”
“I left Chicago.”
“Why?”
Anna’s eyes moved to Leo.
“Because somebody told me Leo had killed my brother.”
The apartment went completely still.
Leo’s face emptied.
“What?”
Anna stood.
“My brother Danny disappeared three days before our wedding.”
“I know.”
“You told me he had gone to Milwaukee.”
“Because that’s what Vincent told me.”
Gemma looked between them.
“Who is Vincent?”
Leo answered slowly.
“My uncle.”
Anna went into the bedroom and returned with a velvet box.
She opened it.
The second ring sat inside.
Same dark metal.
Same cloudy emerald.
Same black stones.
Leo touched his own ring unconsciously.
Anna removed hers.
“I found this in Danny’s coat the night I left.”
Gemma frowned.
“You said Leo gave it to you.”
“He did.”
“I returned it.”
Leo stared.
“You never returned anything.”
Anna looked at him.
“I left it on your desk.”
“No.”
“I did.”
“It was never there.”
Her face changed.
Then Anna turned the ring over.
Inside the band was a long scratch.
Under it were three tiny letters.
V.D.L.
Leo’s eyes hardened.
“Vincent DeLuca.”
Gemma stared at him.
“Your uncle had my mother’s ring?”
Leo did not answer immediately.
Because he understood what it meant.
Someone had taken the ring from his office after Anna disappeared.
Years later it had somehow ended up in Danny’s coat.
Anna sat down slowly.
“I thought Danny stole it from you before he disappeared.”
“He didn’t.”
“You don’t know that.”
“I do.”
“How?”
Leo looked at Gemma.
Then at Anna.
“Because Danny came to me the night before he vanished.”
Anna stopped breathing.
“You saw him?”
“Yes.”
“You told me you hadn’t.”
“I lied.”
The room changed again.
Gemma laughed once.
Bitter.
“Great. Everybody lies.”
Anna’s voice shook.
“Why?”
Leo sat across from her.
“Danny said someone inside my family was moving women through our clubs.”
Anna’s face went white.
“He had photographs.”
Gemma felt cold.
Leo continued.
“He believed Vincent was involved.”
Anna covered her mouth.
“I told Danny I needed proof before I accused my father’s brother.”
“What happened?”
“He said he’d bring it the next night.”
“He disappeared.”
“Yes.”
Anna looked at the ring in her palm.
“And you never told me.”
“No.”
“Why?”
“Because Vincent told me Danny had taken money and run.”
“You believed him?”
“For two days.”
“And after that?”
Leo’s voice fell.
“After that, I stopped believing him.”
Anna stared.
“But by then you were gone.”
“Yes.”
Gemma watched both of them.
Two people separated by twenty-one years of lies.
Then she noticed something inside the velvet box.
A photograph beneath the fabric.
She pulled it free.
Her mother moved too late.
The picture showed Anna much younger.
Leo beside her.
And between them stood a little girl with dark curls.
Maybe eighteen months old.
Gemma.
Leo’s hand rested gently on the child’s shoulder.
On the back, someone had written:
MY TWO GIRLS — 2004
Gemma looked up.
“You knew me.”
Leo did not deny it.
Her voice broke.
“You knew me before tonight.”
“Not your face.”
“That isn’t what I asked.”
Leo stared at the photograph.
Then he looked at her.
May you like
“You called me Dad for almost a year.”
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