Chapter 6 - THE RING ON THE DRIVER’S HAND
Nobody spoke.
Noah stood at the far end of the hallway outside Eric's room.
Close enough to see their faces.
Too far to hear Eric's whisper.
Daniel stepped into the corridor.
“Noah.”
Noah approached.
“Yeah?”
Daniel watched his oldest friend.
They had known each other since college.
Noah had taken a bullet beside him in Indianapolis.
Held Daniel's mother’s hand while she died.
Taught Lucy to ride a bicycle.
Trust was not an emotion Daniel gave easily.
Noah had earned his.
Which made the question harder.
“Where is my father's ring?”
Noah's face changed.
Barely.
Daniel saw it anyway.
“Why?”
“Answer me.”
Noah looked toward Eric's room.
“Eric said something.”
Daniel remained silent.
Noah exhaled.
“I had the ring.”
Claudia stepped into the hallway.
Rachel followed.
Daniel asked, “Had?”
“Angelo gave it to me.”
“No.”
Daniel's voice hardened.
“My father never gave anything without making sure everybody knew.”
Noah almost smiled.
“You knew him too well.”
“Where is it?”
“I lost it.”
“When?”
Noah looked directly at Daniel.
“The night Rachel crashed.”
Daniel hit him.
One punch.
No warning.
Noah struck the wall but did not fight back.
Gabriel moved closer.
Daniel raised a hand.
He did not need help.
Noah wiped blood from his lip.
“I deserved that.”
“Were you driving the black car?”
“No.”
Eric appeared in the doorway.
“You expect him to believe you?”
Noah looked at Eric with open contempt.
“I expect him to investigate.”
Daniel said, “Start helping.”
Noah nodded.
“Your father gave me the ring two days before he died.”
“Why?”
“He wanted me to destroy it.”
Daniel stared.
“There was dried blood beneath the stone.”
Rachel whispered, “Andrew Sloan?”
Noah's eyes shifted to her.
“So you found that.”
“What blood?”
Noah leaned against the wall.
“The night of the warehouse fire, Angelo went there before firefighters arrived. He pulled one worker out himself.”
Daniel had never heard that.
“He tried to save them?”
“After creating the conditions that killed them.”
Noah's voice held no admiration.
“Your father could be both things at once.”
That sounded more truthful than every clean story Daniel had heard about Angelo.
Noah continued.
“Andrew Sloan died near the loading bay. Angelo grabbed him. The ring cut Andrew's face while Angelo tried pulling him through broken glass.”
Rachel understood first.
“DNA.”
Noah nodded.
“Martin believed the ring proved Angelo had been at the warehouse and knew more than he admitted.”
Daniel said, “So you kept it.”
“I couldn't destroy evidence.”
“Where?”
“In my private safe.”
“Until the crash.”
“Yes.”
“Who knew?”
Noah hesitated.
That answer was going to hurt.
“Martin.”
Daniel laughed without humor.
“Of course.”
“He helped your father draft the request.”
Claudia whispered, “Martin stole the ring.”
“I believe so.”
Eric said, “Convenient.”
Noah looked at him.
“I was in Milwaukee the night Rachel crashed. Hotel cameras put me there.”
Daniel knew.
Noah had been negotiating a security contract.
Records could be checked.
That did not clear him completely.
But it mattered.
Rachel sat on the hallway bench.
“So whoever drove the black car had Martin's access to the ring.”
Gabriel said, “Or Martin gave it to him.”
Daniel looked at Eric.
“Who else was involved?”
Eric rubbed his jaw.
“I only dealt with Martin.”
“You're lying again.”
“No.”
“You've lied every hour since dinner.”
Eric flinched.
That sentence finally carried exhaustion rather than menace.
“I don't know his name.”
Everyone waited.
Eric corrected himself.
“I never knew his real name.”
Daniel stared.
“There was another man.”
“Yes.”
“What did Martin call him?”
“Peter.”
Gabriel immediately looked at Noah.
Noah's expression darkened.
Daniel noticed.
“You know a Peter.”
Gabriel answered.
“Peter Vale.”
Daniel searched the name.
Nothing.
Noah supplied the rest.
“Martin's brother-in-law.”
Rachel whispered, “Andrew's uncle.”
Noah nodded.
“Former Chicago police.”
Suddenly the entire story rearranged itself.
Martin had lost a son.
Peter Vale had lost a nephew.
Two men bound by the same death.
One spent twenty years inside the Caruso family.
The other remained outside.
Daniel said, “Find him.”
Noah shook his head.
“He retired ten years ago.”
“That wasn't what I said.”
Noah left.
By late afternoon, the estate had become quieter.
Lucy sat in the library coloring beside Mrs. Alvarez.
Daniel watched from the doorway.
She drew a house.
Blue.
Rachel joined him.
“You know she's watching all of us.”
“I know.”
“She thinks every adult is about to disappear.”
Daniel looked at his niece.
“How do I fix that?”
“You stop disappearing.”
Simple.
Painfully simple.
Daniel sat beside Lucy.
She continued coloring.
“Is Daddy bad?”
The question caught him unprepared.
Children did that better than enemies.
Daniel chose carefully.
“Your daddy did some bad things.”
Lucy stopped coloring.
“Is he going away?”
“I don't know.”
“Mommy?”
“No.”
Lucy considered that.
Then pushed a green crayon toward Daniel.
“You can color the tree.”
He did.
Ten minutes later Noah returned.
He carried a thin file.
“We found Peter Vale.”
Daniel stood.
“Where?”
“Dead.”
Daniel's eyes hardened.
“How long?”
“Seven years.”
That made no sense.
Eric had dealt with “Peter” within the last two years.
Noah placed the obituary down.
Photograph.
Older man.
Gray mustache.
Daniel had never seen him.
Rachel studied the picture.
“That's not the man I saw.”
Noah nodded.
“Exactly.”
Someone had been using Peter Vale's name.
A dead man's identity.
No cheap phone calls.
No ghost.
A mask made from paperwork.
Gabriel took the file.
“Who benefits from using a dead cop's name?”
“Someone who doesn't want his own name near Martin.”
Daniel looked toward the office.
The silver box contained dozens of receipts.
He and Rachel spent the next hour sorting them.
Gas stations.
Restaurants.
Parking garages.
Then Lucy wandered into the room carrying her fox.
“Can I have my picture?”
Rachel looked at her.
“What picture?”
“The one Daddy took.”
Eric looked up sharply from across the room.
Daniel saw it.
“What picture?”
Lucy hugged the fox tighter.
“The picnic.”
Eric whispered, “Lucy.”
She backed toward Daniel.
Daniel said, “Don't.”
Eric stopped.
Rachel knelt.
“Where is it?”
Lucy turned the fox around.
One seam near its tail had been repaired badly with blue thread.
“Daddy put it in here when he got mad.”
Daniel carefully opened the loose stitching.
Inside was a folded photograph.
Not hidden by Rachel.
Hidden by Eric.
The picture showed a summer picnic three years earlier.
Angelo had already been dead then.
Martin stood near the grill.
Eric beside him.
And between them stood a third man.
Tall.
Dark hair.
Smiling toward the camera.
Daniel knew him.
Everybody in the Caruso organization did.
Vincent Hale.
Daniel's chief financial officer.
May you like
The man who approved every vendor payment flowing through Caruso Shipping.
On his right hand was Angelo Caruso's black onyx ring.
