Chapter 7 - THE LOCKER
The rain was coming down in sheets by the time Dominic’s black SUV pulled up to Union Station.
It was 2:00 AM. The massive, vaulted terminal was mostly empty, save for a few homeless individuals sleeping on benches and exhausted travelers waiting for the early morning commuter lines.
Anthony killed the engine, grabbing an umbrella.
Dominic checked the magazine in his weapon before slipping it into his shoulder holster. He looked at me in the rearview mirror.
“Stay close to me,” Dominic instructed. “If you see Thomas, point him out, but let me do the talking initially.”
I nodded, my throat tight.
We walked through the heavy glass doors into the echoing main hall.
“Where would he hide?” Anthony muttered, scanning the shadows.
“The baggage lockers,” I suggested, my voice echoing slightly. “If he’s running, he’d want to secure whatever leverage he has before getting on a train.”
Dominic nodded in agreement. We moved swiftly toward the lower level, where rows of old, coin-operated metal lockers lined the damp tile walls.
The area smelled of ozone and stale coffee.
As we rounded the corner, I saw him.
Thomas was huddled near Locker 412. He had shed his waiter’s uniform and was wearing a cheap gray hoodie, nervously looking over his shoulder as he fed quarters into the slot.
“Thomas,” I called out softly.
He spun around, panic flashing in his eyes. When he saw Dominic and Anthony step out from behind me, he immediately bolted, sprinting down the narrow corridor toward the tracks.
“Stop!” Anthony yelled, giving chase.
Thomas was fast, but Anthony was faster. He tackled the former waiter just before the exit doors, pinning him to the cold tile floor.
“I didn’t do it!” Thomas screamed, struggling against Anthony’s grip. “I didn’t poison him!”
Dominic walked over slowly, his presence commanding the space.
“I know you didn’t, Thomas,” Dominic said calmly. “My sister did. She’s in police custody.”
Thomas stopped struggling. He looked up at Dominic, breathing heavily. “Rosa… she’s caught?”
“Yes. But I need to know why she wanted to kill Claire’s mother.”
Thomas looked at me, a profound sadness in his eyes.
“Let him up, Ant,” Dominic said.
Anthony stepped back. Thomas slowly got to his feet, leaning against the tile wall.
“Your mother saved my life, Claire,” Thomas said softly. “Ten years ago. I was just a kid, running drugs for Salerno’s low-level guys. I got caught stealing from a drop. They were going to kill me in that office building.”
I stared at him, stunned.
“Your mother was cleaning the floor,” Thomas continued. “She saw them beating me. She triggered the fire alarm to scatter them. It saved my life. But in the chaos, she hid in a supply closet.”
Dominic stepped closer. “And what did she see from that closet?”
“She saw Rosa Romano walk into the office with a man,” Thomas said, looking directly at Dominic. “And she saw them strangle your father to death.”
The air in the corridor felt heavy, suffocating.
Dominic closed his eyes for a fraction of a second, absorbing the final, brutal truth of his father’s murder.
“Why didn’t my mother go to the police?” I whispered.
“Because Rosa saw her,” Thomas said grimly. “Rosa threatened to kill you, Claire. She said if your mother ever spoke a word, you wouldn’t make it home from middle school.”
My stomach churned. My mother had carried this terrifying secret for ten years to protect me. She had lived in poverty, afraid of her own shadow, because of this family.
“Why did Rosa suddenly care about her now?” Anthony asked.
“Because Rosa was planning her coup tonight,” Thomas explained. “She needed to tie up all loose ends before she took the throne. She hired me to serve the wine, thinking I was just a random temp worker. She didn’t know I knew your mother.”
Thomas reached into his hoodie pocket and pulled out a small, metallic object.
He handed it to Dominic.
It was a USB drive.
“What is this?” Dominic asked.
“The security footage from Salerno’s office lobby ten years ago,” Thomas said. “I stole it from Salerno’s archives before I ran. It shows Rosa entering and leaving the building the night your father died. It’s the proof your mother needs to be safe. It’s the proof you need to put Rosa away forever.”
The reversal was complete. The leverage wasn’t money. It was justice.
Dominic held the flash drive tightly in his fist. He looked at Thomas.
“Get on the train, Thomas. Disappear. You’re safe from my family.”
Thomas nodded gratefully, pulling his hood up and slipping out the exit doors into the rainy night.
Dominic turned to me.
His eyes were incredibly soft, contrasting the brutal world we were standing in.
“Your mother suffered because of my family’s sins,” Dominic said quietly. “I am so profoundly sorry, Claire.”
“It’s not your fault,” I said, my voice trembling.
Before Dominic could reply, his cell phone buzzed.
He pulled it out, looking at the caller ID. It was his head of security back at the penthouse.
Dominic answered. “Yeah.”
A pause.
Dominic’s face drained of all color.
“What do you mean she’s gone?” he roared, the sound echoing off the tiles.
He hung up the phone, looking at Anthony with pure terror in his eyes.
“Rosa made a phone call from the back of the squad car,” Dominic breathed. “Marco, the scarred man, survived the gunshot. He broke into the safe room.”
“Dom, what did he take?” Anthony asked, horrified.
May you like
Dominic looked at me.
“He took Mia.”
