Chapter 7 - THE COST OF LOYALTY
Gabriel’s voice became deadly calm.
“Say the name.”
Carlo remained seated.
For once, the old man did not look like a Rossi patriarch.
He looked like an exhausted uncle carrying a secret far beyond its expiration date.
“Lucia.”
Gabriel stared at him.
Norah thought she had misheard.
“Your mother,” Carlo said. “Lucia ordered Frank to burn Warehouse Nine.”
Gabriel crossed the room so quickly that Carlo barely had time to stand.
Gabriel caught the front of his shirt.
“Don't.”
Carlo did not struggle.
“You asked.”
“Don't put this on her.”
“I’m not.”
“Then prove it.”
“I can't.”
Gabriel shoved him backward.
Carlo nearly fell.
Norah stepped between them.
“Gabriel.”
He looked at her.
She had never used his first name before that week.
Now it stopped him.
Barely.
Norah turned to Carlo.
“Why would Lucia kill her husband?”
“She wasn't trying to.”
Everyone went quiet.
Carlo sat again.
“She wanted the records destroyed.”
Norah frowned.
“Daniel’s second set?”
“Yes.”
Carlo rubbed a shaking hand over his face.
“Vittorio had decided to give everything to federal investigators. Not only my betrayal. Everything.”
Gabriel understood.
Every payment.
Every judge.
Every police officer.
Every business.
Every family member.
The entire organization could have fallen.
“Lucia wanted the records gone,” Carlo said. “She told Frank to burn the office after Vittorio left.”
“But Vittorio came back,” Norah said.
“Yes.”
Carlo looked at her.
“So did Daniel.”
Vincent leaned against the desk.
“My father knew they were inside.”
Carlo's silence answered.
Vincent shut his eyes.
The father he had spent decades defending had knowingly lit the match.
“Why?”
Gabriel asked.
Carlo looked at him.
“Because Frank believed your father would eventually discover he had helped me.”
Vincent opened his eyes.
“He had?”
Carlo nodded.
“Your father drove me to meetings. Passed messages. He told himself he wasn't involved.”
Vincent laughed bitterly.
“He was.”
“Yes.”
Norah looked at the old photograph.
“What happened after the fire?”
“Daniel escaped through the rear loading door,” Carlo said. “Vittorio didn’t.”
Gabriel stared at the fireplace.
“Daniel came here the next day.”
“Yes.”
“To tell Lucia.”
“And Evelyn.”
“What did they do?”
Carlo hesitated.
“Daniel had the missing financial records.”
Norah’s pulse quickened.
“The second set.”
“Yes.”
“And the photograph of you with Moretti.”
“Yes.”
“He could have destroyed you.”
Carlo nodded.
“He intended to.”
“Then why wasn't he alive to do it?”
Carlo looked away.
Gabriel noticed.
“Carlo.”
“I didn't kill Daniel.”
“You keep saying that.”
“Because it's true.”
Mrs. Gable spoke.
“Daniel left the estate alive.”
Norah turned to her.
“You saw him?”
“Yes.”
“With Evelyn?”
“No.”
“With Lucia.”
Gabriel looked at Mrs. Gable.
“My mother left with him?”
Mrs. Gable nodded.
“Daniel was injured. Burns on his back and shoulder. Lucia drove him to a doctor she trusted.”
“Who?”
“Dr. Caruso’s father.”
Everyone looked toward the hallway.
Dr. Anthony Caruso was still at the estate checking on Norah’s fracture.
Gabriel sent for him.
Ten minutes later, Caruso entered the library.
His face changed when he saw the photograph.
“You found that.”
Norah stared at him.
“You knew my father?”
“I was nineteen.”
Caruso slowly sat.
“My father treated Daniel Hayes.”
“What happened?”
“He had severe burns and smoke inhalation, but those injuries weren't what killed him.”
Norah gripped the back of a chair.
“What did?”
Caruso’s expression darkened.
“He was shot.”
The room froze.
“When?” Gabriel asked.
“Late that night.”
“Where?”
“In the clinic parking lot.”
Norah closed her eyes.
The truth was crueler because it arrived in pieces.
Someone had survived a fire only to be murdered hours later.
“My mother was there?”
“No.”
“Lucia?”
Caruso nodded.
Gabriel's head lifted.
“She saw it?”
“My father said she did.”
Carlo stood suddenly.
“That can't be right.”
Caruso looked at him.
“It is.”
“Lucia told me Daniel disappeared.”
“She lied.”
Gabriel whispered, “To protect who?”
Nobody answered.
Then Vincent moved.
He walked toward the window.
His face had become gray.
Gabriel looked at him.
“Vincent.”
Vincent did not turn around.
“When my father was dying, he kept saying a name.”
“What name?”
“I thought he was confused.”
Gabriel stepped closer.
“What name?”
“Lucia.”
Gabriel said nothing.
Vincent continued.
“He kept saying, ‘Lucia saw me.’”
Norah understood before Gabriel did.
Her stomach dropped.
“Frank shot Daniel.”
Vincent turned.
Tears stood in his eyes.
“Yes.”
Nobody spoke.
Vincent looked at Norah.
“My father murdered yours.”
Norah stared at him.
All week Vincent had helped her.
Protected her apartment.
Opened records.
Told difficult truths.
Now his father stood at the center of her worst loss.
Vincent’s voice cracked.
“I am sorry.”
Norah surprised everyone.
She shook her head.
“You didn’t pull the trigger.”
“My family helped destroy yours.”
“So did his.”
She looked at Gabriel.
“So did Carlo’s.”
Then at Mrs. Gable.
“And good people stayed quiet because they were afraid.”
She turned toward the photograph.
“If I start inheriting everybody else’s guilt, I’ll never get out from under it.”
Vincent lowered his head.
Gabriel looked at Norah with something close to awe.
Carlo broke the silence.
“There is still one problem.”
Gabriel looked at him.
“What?”
“Frank didn't have Daniel's second ledger when he shot him.”
Norah frowned.
“How do you know?”
“Because he spent years looking for it.”
Gabriel looked at the six-number code.
“Evelyn had it.”
Carlo nodded.
“Or Lucia.”
Mrs. Gable shook her head.
“Lucia never found it.”
“Then where is it?”
Norah looked at Daniel’s wristwatch.
Something bothered her.
The photograph Carlo expected inside it was missing.
But Daniel had survived the fire.
He had known Frank and perhaps Carlo would search him.
He would not have carried his most dangerous evidence in an obvious place.
Norah examined the old leather watchband.
There was a raised seam near the buckle.
She used the edge of a letter opener.
The stitching popped.
Inside the strap was a narrow strip of photographic negative.
Carlo stopped breathing.
Norah held it toward the lamp.
Three tiny frames.
One showed Carlo with Anthony Moretti.
The second showed Frank Marchetti exchanging an envelope.
And the third—
Gabriel took the negative.
His face changed.
“What is it?”
Norah asked.
Gabriel stared at the tiny frame.
“Someone else is standing beside them.”
“Who?”
Gabriel looked toward the library doors.
A man had just entered.
He was in his early sixties, impeccably dressed, carrying a leather folder beneath one arm.
Samuel Drake.
Gabriel's chief financial adviser for nearly twenty years.
The man who had helped Gabriel rebuild the Rossi companies after his mother’s death.
The man Gabriel trusted with every legitimate account they owned.
Samuel saw the negative.
He stopped.
Gabriel slowly lifted it toward the light.
“You.”
Samuel's face went empty.
Carlo whispered, “Dear God.”
Gabriel stepped forward.
“You were there.”
Samuel looked toward the doors behind him.
Then back at Gabriel.
He did not run.
He simply said the sentence that changed everything.
May you like
“I was the one who told Frank that Daniel survived.”
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