Chapter 5 - THE MISSING DAY
Dominic didn’t speak for several seconds.
Then he removed his jacket.
Folded it.
Placed it carefully over a chair.
That scared me more than anger would have.
“When?”
Evelyn whispered, “January ninth, 2011.”
“Why?”
“Carlo brought you to the clinic.”
“I asked why.”
Evelyn’s voice shook.
“He said you were hysterical.”
Dominic almost smiled.
“Was I?”
“No.”
Margaret said his name softly.
He ignored her.
“What was I doing?”
“You kept demanding to see your mother.”
Dominic turned toward Margaret.
She covered her mouth.
Evelyn continued.
“You had discovered inconsistencies in the accident report.”
Dominic looked back.
“I don’t remember that.”
“Your father gave you something before you arrived.”
“What?”
“I don’t know. You were disoriented.”
Margaret whispered, “Carlo drugged him.”
Evelyn nodded reluctantly.
Dominic’s face changed.
Not shock.
Recognition.
“What?” I asked.
He looked toward me.
“I lost most of that week.”
Margaret’s eyes filled.
“He told everyone you were grieving.”
Dominic laughed bitterly.
“He told me I was grieving.”
Evelyn wiped her cheeks.
“You reached Margaret’s room.”
Dominic froze.
“You saw her?”
“Yes.”
He turned slowly toward his mother.
Margaret was crying now.
“You found me.”
Dominic looked as if the floor had shifted.
“And then?”
Margaret touched the rosary.
“You hugged me.”
His eyes closed.
“You kept saying you knew they were lying.”
Dominic turned away.
For the first time since I’d known him, his control was gone.
Not loudly.
He simply gripped the windowsill with both hands and bowed his head.
Margaret took one step toward him.
He raised a hand.
“Don’t.”
She stopped.
“You let him take me away.”
Her face collapsed.
“I was barely conscious myself.”
“You let him erase that day.”
“I didn’t know how.”
“I came to you.”
“Yes.”
“And then spent fifteen years believing I had failed to notice my own mother was alive.”
Margaret cried silently.
“I’m sorry.”
Dominic looked at her.
“No. We’re not there yet.”
It was cruel.
And honest.
Margaret nodded.
“No. We’re not.”
By sunrise, Dominic had made a decision.
We would go to Samuel Pike before Hanover Trust.
His security chief protested.
Dominic ignored him.
Samuel Pike was seventy-three.
He opened his motel door before Dominic knocked.
“I wondered how long it would take.”
Dominic stared at him.
Samuel looked past him and saw Margaret.
His knees almost buckled.
“Margaret.”
She didn’t smile.
“You kept his books.”
Samuel nodded.
“And his sins.”
Inside the motel room, documents covered the small table.
Not secret legal papers.
Old accounting statements.
Shipping manifests.
Photographs.
A child’s drawing.
That caught my attention.
It showed a large house, three stick figures, and a blue car.
At the bottom, in childish handwriting:
MOM. ME. UNCLE NICO.
Dominic picked it up.
“I drew this.”
Margaret stared.
“You did.”
He looked at her.
“I remember the car.”
Her eyes widened.
“Blue Pontiac.”
Dominic stared at the drawing again.
Something had returned.
Only a fragment.
But it mattered.
Samuel sat down.
“Carlo hated that picture.”
“Why?”
“Because you remembered Nico.”
Dominic’s eyes sharpened.
“You knew my uncle.”
“Very well.”
“Is he alive?”
Samuel hesitated.
Margaret looked at him.
“Samuel.”
He shook his head.
“Nico died in 2018.”
Margaret sat down hard.
She hadn’t known.
Dominic looked at the child’s drawing.
“How?”
“Cancer.”
Samuel swallowed.
“He lived in Vermont under another surname.”
Margaret closed her eyes.
A small secret answered.
A larger one opened.
Dominic asked, “Why was my uncle involved in company accounts?”
“He was building a case against Carlo.”
“And my grandfather before him?”
“Yes.”
Samuel pointed to the documents.
“Nico spent decades collecting evidence, but by 2010 he knew the old crimes were less important than what Carlo was currently doing.”
“What was Carlo currently doing?”
Samuel looked at Dominic.
“Using you as insulation.”
Dominic’s expression hardened.
“Meaning?”
“Every questionable company was being shifted into subsidiaries bearing your approval.”
“I was twenty-four.”
“You trusted your father.”
“Yes.”
“That was his plan.”
Margaret looked sick.
Samuel continued.
“If law enforcement ever closed in, Carlo could claim you ran the modern operation.”
Dominic’s voice went cold.
“He intended to sacrifice me.”
Samuel said nothing.
That was answer enough.
I looked at Vivian.
She stood near the window, silent.
Dominic noticed too.
“How much did you know?”
“Not that.”
“Nothing?”
“I knew your father had manufactured records against you. I knew my mother was involved.”
“You knew enough to search the library.”
“Yes.”
Samuel looked sharply at her.
“For what?”
“Carlo’s ledger.”
Samuel stood.
“What ledger?”
Vivian stared.
“You don’t know?”
“No.”
“Then what did my mother mean?”
Samuel’s face changed.
“What did Evelyn tell you?”
“That Margaret kept a ledger.”
Samuel looked at Margaret.
“You kept a copy?”
Margaret frowned.
“I don’t remember.”
Samuel began pacing.
“That changes things.”
Dominic stopped him.
“How?”
“Because Nico never found the complete account list.”
Margaret touched the brass key in her pocket.
“Hanover Trust.”
Samuel stared at it.
“Where did you get that?”
“My coat.”
Samuel’s expression turned from surprise to fear.
“You cannot go to that vault.”
Dominic crossed his arms.
“Everyone keeps telling me what I cannot do.”
“I mean it.”
“So does everyone else.”
Samuel grabbed one of the documents.
“Carlo closed his personal Hanover accounts in 2012.”
“This key is older.”
“The number?”
Margaret showed him.
Samuel read the engraving.
Then exhaled.
“That isn’t Carlo’s box.”
“Whose?”
Samuel looked at Dominic.
“Yours.”
Dominic frowned.
“I never opened a private box there.”
“Your father did.”
“Using my name?”
“Yes.”
Samuel sat again.
“January 10, 2011. The day after you were taken to Albany.”
Dominic stared.
“He used my identity to open a vault while I was drugged.”
“Yes.”
“What’s inside?”
“I never knew.”
Vivian suddenly spoke.
“My mother did.”
Everyone turned.
She removed something from her handbag.
A folded piece of paper.
Dominic’s eyes narrowed.
“What is that?”
Vivian didn’t hand it over immediately.
“My mother gave it to me three years ago.”
His voice became dangerous.
“You brought evidence into this motel after telling me you had nothing else?”
“I didn’t understand it until Samuel mentioned January tenth.”
Dominic held out his hand.
Vivian surrendered the paper.
It was an old photocopy of a bank receipt.
Hanover Trust.
January 10, 2011.
Private vault access.
Authorized client:
DOMINIC C. BELLINI
The signature was unmistakably his.
Except Dominic stared at it and said, “That’s not mine.”
Samuel nodded.
“I know.”
“How?”
“Your father had a habit.”
Samuel pointed to the B.
“He forged your name perfectly except for one thing. You stop the pen after the first stroke of the B.”
Dominic looked at the receipt.
“This is continuous.”
“Yes.”
Dominic handed it to security.
“We go to Hanover.”
Samuel shook his head.
“You still don’t understand.”
“Then help me.”
Samuel looked exhausted.
“The person who removed Margaret’s bracelet knows about the vault.”
“We know.”
“No.”
Samuel pointed toward the motel table.
“The person who arranged those boxes knows you are retracing 2011.”
Dominic’s eyes narrowed.
Samuel continued.
“They aren’t trying to stop you.”
“I know.”
“They want that vault opened.”
“Why?”
Samuel looked directly at him.
“Because only you can open it.”
The room went silent.
“The key isn’t enough?”
“No.”
Samuel shook his head.
“Carlo created a dual condition.”
“What condition?”
“Physical key.”
He pointed toward Dominic.
“And the living account holder.”
Dominic’s mouth tightened.
“So someone has spent three weeks leading me toward a vault they can’t open themselves.”
“Yes.”
“Then we open it first.”
Samuel gave a humorless smile.
“That is exactly what they want.”
Dominic looked at him.
“Why?”
Samuel picked up the gold watch Margaret had carried from the mansion.
He turned it over.
Then stopped.
“What?”
Margaret asked.
Samuel scratched at the back plate.
A tiny strip of adhesive lifted away.
Underneath was a modern tracking chip.
Dominic stared.
The watch had been on his desk.
In his house.
Then in his mother’s handbag.
Then in the car.
Someone hadn’t needed to follow us.
We had brought them along.
Samuel looked toward the motel window.
May you like
“They already know we found the key.”
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