Chapter 6 - LILY’S NECKLACE
Nora wanted proof.
Not Declan’s anger.
Not Rourke’s guilt.
Proof.
They returned to St. Vincent’s Hospital.
Lily’s old records showed something strange.
Her condition had stabilized during her final month.
Then, forty-eight hours before her death, a medication dosage had changed.
The authorization signature belonged to a physician who had retired soon afterward.
Owen found the doctor living in Maine.
But Nora refused to chase another person yet.
“Lily left something.”
She was certain now.
“She always prepared for the worst.”
They searched the belongings recovered from Patrick’s locker again.
The rosary.
The photograph.
The watch.
Then Rose wandered into the library carrying her red coat.
“Aunt Nora?”
“Yes?”
“My zipper’s stuck.”
Nora knelt.
As she worked it loose, she noticed Rose touching something beneath her shirt.
A chain.
Her heart stopped.
“What are you wearing?”
Rose pulled out a silver oval necklace.
Declan rose slowly.
“Where did you get that?”
“Mrs. Harlow gave it to me.”
Her foster mother.
“When?”
“Before the ambulance took her away.”
Inside the locket was not a photograph.
It contained a tiny memory card.
Patrick had hidden evidence in the most ordinary object possible.
Owen loaded the card onto an isolated computer.
There was one audio recording.
Sean Walsh’s voice.
Calm.
Businesslike.
He ordered Patrick to surrender the ledger and stop interfering with Rourke’s collections.
Patrick refused.
Then Sean said:
“If Lily knows what you know, she becomes part of the problem.”
The recording ended.
Nora sat frozen.
It proved intent.
Not murder.
But it was enough to expose the reason Patrick and Lily had tried to run.
Rose stood beside her.
“Was Mommy brave?”
Nora pulled her close.
“Yes.”
“Was Daddy?”
“Yes.”
“Were they scared?”
Nora swallowed.
“Probably.”
Rose thought about that.
“You can be brave and scared?”
Declan answered.
“Usually at the same time.”
Rose seemed satisfied.
Nora wasn’t.
The recording also revealed something else.
Rourke had lied.
Sean had ordered him to take Nora.
Rourke refused.
That refusal had probably saved her.
Nora found him later under guard.
“Why?”
Rourke stared through the window.
“Patrick was my brother-in-law.”
Nora froze.
“His sister?”
“My wife.”
Another piece shifted.
Rourke had not protected Nora out of kindness.
He had done it because Patrick was family.
His methods had still been cruel.
But his motive was no longer simple greed.
“My wife died before Rose was born,” he said. “Patrick was all I had left.”
“You exploited dozens of other women.”
“Yes.”
No excuse.
No denial.
“I became what I told myself I was fighting.”
Nora appreciated that he did not ask her to absolve him.
Declan entered.
“We found Sean.”
An abandoned shipping office near the river had been operating under one of his companies.
But when Declan’s men arrived, Sean was gone.
What remained was worse.
Files.
Photographs.
Schedules.
Nora’s schedule.
Rose’s foster home.
The mansion.
Sean had been watching them.
Declan ordered security doubled.
Nora snapped.
“I will not spend the rest of my life hiding.”
“You won’t.”
“You just surrounded a six-year-old with armed men.”
“I surrounded her with people who will keep her alive.”
“And when does she get a childhood?”
The question hit him.
Declan looked toward Rose, asleep on the sofa with crayons scattered beside her.
“I don’t know.”
Nora’s anger softened.
That was the difference she was beginning to understand.
Declan did not pretend to have every answer.
He simply refused to abandon the problem.
That evening, Nora found a folded child’s drawing outside her bedroom.
Rose had drawn three people.
Herself.
Nora.
Declan.
Declan was ridiculously tall.
Nora smiled despite everything.
At the bottom Rose had written:
MY SAFE PEOPLE.
Nora carried it downstairs.
Declan stood by the fireplace.
She showed him.
He stared at the drawing for a long time.
“That’s dangerous,” he said quietly.
“What is?”
“Being important to someone.”
Nora understood then that Declan Walsh was not afraid of enemies.
He was afraid of having something enemies could take.
She stepped closer.
“You stayed when I grabbed your hand.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
His eyes met hers.
“Because nobody stayed when I needed them to.”
Before Nora could answer, Owen entered carrying Patrick’s pocket watch.
“We found out why it stopped at 4:17.”
He opened the back casing.
Inside was a second engraving.
Not initials.
An address.
Declan recognized it immediately.
His childhood home.
And beneath the address were four words.
DECLAN KNOWS WHERE IT IS.
Nora looked at him.
“Where what is?”
Declan stared at the watch.
May you like
Then his face changed.
“My father’s coat.”
