Chapter 7 - THE PRICE OF FAMILY LOYALTY
“Then we need the delivery records.”
Theo said it before Margaret finished speaking.
But finding records from a business operation twenty-two years earlier was not simple.
And Rocco wasn't going to make it easier.
The following morning, Theo found him waiting outside his restaurant.
No bodyguards.
No expensive performance.
Just a tired sixty-four-year-old man standing beside a black car.
“I heard you went to see Keene,” Rocco said.
Theo unlocked the restaurant door.
“You were the one who told us he was dangerous.”
“Because he is.”
“Then why did you pay him?”
Rocco followed him inside.
I was already there arranging fresh flowers for the lunch service.
Neither man realized I could hear them.
Rocco looked around at the restaurant Theo had built.
The framed family recipes.
The polished tables.
The old photograph of Anthony smiling beside a fishing boat.
“I helped you create something good,” Rocco said.
Theo turned.
“And now you're threatening to take it away.”
“I never said I'd take it.”
“You didn't have to.”
Rocco sat at a table.
For the first time since meeting him, I saw how old he looked.
“Your father and I grew up sharing one bedroom. When our parents couldn't afford winter coats, Anthony and I took turns wearing the same one.”
Theo said nothing.
“He was stubborn. Smart. Better at making people like him than I ever was.”
“Then why did you make him sign that order?”
Rocco looked at the floor.
“Because I thought I could control what happened afterward.”
Theo pulled out a chair.
“That's the closest you've come to telling me the truth.”
Rocco rubbed his face.
“There was supposed to be one restricted shipment. We were moving commercial equipment through the warehouse after hours. The paperwork wasn't clean.”
“What kind of equipment?”
“Generators. Electrical equipment. Some imported parts that hadn't cleared inspection.”
Theo stared at him.
“Unsafe parts?”
“Not all of them.”
“Enough of them?”
Rocco didn't answer.
Theo's voice hardened.
“My father knew?”
“He knew we were taking a shortcut. He didn't know how far it would go.”
“Until the second truck.”
Rocco looked up sharply.
So Keene had been telling the truth about that.
“What was on it?” Theo asked.
Rocco stood.
“I'm done.”
“No, you're not.”
Theo moved between him and the door.
“You brought Nina to my bridal shower. You threatened Harper. You used my restaurant to control me. You don't get to tell half the story and walk away.”
Rocco looked genuinely hurt.
“I raised you.”
“And I loved you for it.”
The room went silent.
Theo continued.
“But raising me doesn't give you the right to decide what I deserve to know.”
Rocco swallowed.
“Your mother understood why I kept quiet.”
Theo froze.
“Don't bring Mom into this.”
“She knew your father's decisions weren't innocent.”
Theo's face changed.
His mother had died when he was twenty.
He had spent sixteen years believing she had protected Anthony's memory because he was a hero.
“Did you tell her everything?” he asked.
Rocco looked away.
“No.”
Theo laughed bitterly.
“So you lied to her too.”
Rocco stood motionless.
Then he reached into his coat.
I stiffened.
But he only took out the small black leather book Mallory had noticed.
He placed it on the table.
“Your father wrote some of these entries.”
Theo stared at it.
“Why bring it to the shower?”
“Because Nina had once seen it. I wanted to know whether she remembered what was inside before Keene learned she'd returned to Pittsburgh.”
“Then why parade her around in a bridal sash?”
Rocco's voice dropped.
“I wanted Harper gone. I thought if Nina became part of the family, I could keep both of you close enough to protect.”
Theo looked disgusted.
“You were going to destroy three lives to protect your own secrets.”
Rocco didn't deny it.
He pushed the book toward Theo.
Then he left.
I sat beside Theo while he opened it.
The pages contained truck numbers, delivery times, and signatures.
Most entries were ordinary.
But on November 18, 2004, two deliveries appeared.
The first was marked 8:46 p.m.
The second, 9:08 p.m.
Beside the second entry, someone had written:
HOLD FOR INSPECTION.
Beneath it, in different handwriting:
PROCEED. D.K.
Theo compared the handwriting with his father's old recipe cards.
His eyes filled.
“Dad wrote the first instruction.”
I turned the page.
A delivery reference number was listed beneath it.
But one column had been crossed out.
Under the ink, I could still make out three letters.
M.C.H.
I asked what they meant.
Theo looked at me.
“Mercy County Hospital.”
He searched the remaining pages.
Then he found a payment notation connected to that shipment.
It was marked:
EMERGENCY GENERATOR UNITS — REJECTED BY HOSPITAL.
I stared at him.
Unsafe equipment.
A hospital had refused it.
And Rocco's company had brought it into a warehouse full of employees anyway.
Then Theo noticed something written in the margin.
May you like
In his father's unmistakable handwriting:
DO NOT CONNECT. RISK OF FIRE.
