Chapter 8 - THE BROTHER WHO CAME FOR REVENGE
Nobody moved.
Daniel's gun remained pointed at Dominic.
Frank stood slightly in front of Helen.
Rebecca had one hand near her coat but wisely did not reach inside it.
Sabrina stood near the doorway, pale and silent.
Dominic looked at the man he'd known as Paul Mercer for eleven years.
They had attended football games together.
Shared whiskey after Anthony's birthday dinners.
Once, Paul had driven Dominic through a snowstorm when his car broke down outside Worcester.
Brothers.
Neither had known.
Or at least Dominic hadn't.
“Put the gun down,” Frank said.
Daniel looked at him.
“Grandpa.”
Frank flinched.
“You knew?”
“Not until six months ago.”
“Who told you?”
“Leonard.”
Sabrina whispered:
“My father.”
Daniel glanced at her.
“He told me everything.”
“No,” Sabrina said. “He told you his version.”
Daniel laughed.
“Anthony's little princess finally turned against Daddy?”
Her face hardened.
“At least I'm beginning to understand what he made me believe.”
“What Anthony made you believe?”
“My father.”
Daniel's eyes narrowed.
Dominic spoke calmly.
“Michael's recording exists.”
Daniel looked at him.
“I've heard it.”
“He says Anthony didn't know about the stolen money.”
“That proves nothing.”
“He called Anthony for help.”
“And ended up dead.”
“Because Victor drove the truck.”
Daniel shook his head.
“Leonard says Anthony ordered Victor to stop him.”
Rebecca said:
“Leonard also told Sabrina Anthony killed Michael.”
Daniel looked at her.
“Who are you?”
“The attorney Anthony hired because Leonard forged Helen's signatures.”
Daniel hesitated.
Rebecca continued.
“Leonard lied to Sabrina about who ordered the crash. He lied about the estate. He lied about Helen. Why would he tell you the truth?”
“Because he had proof.”
“What proof?”
Daniel reached into his jacket with his free hand.
Frank tensed.
“Easy.”
Daniel pulled out a photograph.
He tossed it onto the desk.
Anthony.
Victor.
The damaged car.
Michael's body covered nearby.
Dominic looked away.
Daniel said:
“Anthony stood over our father.”
Frank's face twisted with grief.
“I was there twenty minutes later.”
Daniel looked at him.
“Then you know.”
“I know Anthony tried to pull Michael from the car.”
Daniel hesitated.
Frank continued.
“Anthony broke three ribs because the driver's door was crushed and he kept trying to reach my son.”
Daniel's gun lowered an inch.
“Leonard said—”
“Leonard wasn't there.”
“Victor was.”
“Yes.”
“And Victor ran.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
Frank looked toward Anthony's archive.
“Because he believed he killed Michael.”
Daniel frowned.
Helen spoke.
“But Margaret said Anthony was wrong about Victor.”
Everyone looked at her.
She retrieved Margaret's letter.
“You were both hidden because Charles Cross wanted Michael's evidence.”
Daniel's face tightened at his childhood guardian's family name.
“Charles saved me.”
“No,” Sabrina whispered.
Daniel looked at her.
“He raised me.”
“He raised you to hate them.”
“He gave me a home.”
“And never told you your name.”
That landed.
Daniel's jaw tightened.
Sabrina continued.
“He did the same thing to me in a different way. My father gave me a version of history where every road led back to Anthony. It made us useful.”
Daniel looked at her.
“You betrayed Leonard.”
“I stopped obeying him.”
“They're not the same.”
“Maybe they are.”
Dominic stepped closer.
Daniel raised the gun again.
“Don't.”
Dominic stopped.
“You spent eleven years in this house.”
“Watching.”
“Watching what?”
“Anthony.”
“Did you ever see him treat me like a weapon?”
Daniel said nothing.
“Did he ask me to steal your life?”
Nothing.
“Did he even tell me you existed?”
Daniel laughed bitterly.
“That proves how much he lied.”
“Yes.”
Dominic surprised everyone.
“Anthony lied.”
Helen looked at him.
“He lied to me. He lied to Mom. He lied to Frank. He buried secrets because he thought protecting people gave him the right to decide what truth they could survive.”
Dominic took another slow step.
Daniel's hand shook.
“But whatever he did, I didn't do it.”
Another step.
“You're pointing a gun at your brother because dead men taught both of us what to believe.”
Daniel's eyes filled.
“Stop.”
“I didn't know you existed.”
“Stop.”
“I would've wanted to.”
The gun trembled.
Frank quietly said:
“So would I.”
Daniel looked at him.
Frank's eyes were wet.
“I buried Michael without knowing either of his sons were alive.”
Daniel's face crumpled for half a second.
Then anger returned.
“You worked for Anthony.”
“He was my friend.”
“He took Dominic.”
“He saved him.”
“You don't know that.”
“No.”
Frank nodded.
“Which is why we find Margaret.”
Daniel's gun lowered another inch.
Rebecca said:
“She was alive six months ago.”
Daniel looked sharply at her.
“What?”
Dominic took Margaret's letter.
“She wrote Anthony.”
Daniel stared.
“Our mother?”
“Yes.”
Daniel whispered:
“She abandoned us.”
“No.”
Dominic held out the letter.
“She thought I was dead.”
Daniel didn't move.
“She knew about you?”
“We don't know.”
Daniel finally took the paper.
He read slowly.
His face changed.
Every sentence took something from him.
When he finished, he sat in Anthony's chair.
The gun rested loosely in his hand.
Frank stepped forward and gently took it.
Daniel did not resist.
For several minutes, nobody spoke.
Then Helen noticed the map on Anthony's wall.
Portland.
Several locations circled.
A medical clinic.
A post office.
A house near Cape Elizabeth.
Rebecca followed her gaze.
“Margaret.”
Daniel stood.
They drove north before sunrise.
Sabrina stayed behind voluntarily.
Dominic did not ask her to come.
Helen noticed the hurt in her face.
But some consequences could not be avoided simply because regret was sincere.
At 10:15 that morning, they reached the Cape Elizabeth address.
A small gray house overlooking the Atlantic.
Frank could barely leave the car.
Helen took his hand.
“You waited thirty-nine years.”
He looked at her.
“What if she hates me?”
Helen almost smiled sadly.
“Then you'll finally know instead of wondering.”
Dominic knocked.
No answer.
Again.
A curtain moved.
Then the door opened.
A woman in her early sixties stood inside.
Silver threaded through dark hair.
Her eyes moved from Helen to Frank.
She stopped breathing.
“Frank?”
He began crying before he spoke.
“Margaret.”
She covered her mouth.
Then she saw Dominic.
Her knees nearly failed.
“Oh, my God.”
Dominic stood frozen.
Margaret reached toward him.
Stopped herself.
“You're alive.”
He whispered:
“So are you.”
She looked past him.
Daniel stepped from the car.
Margaret made a sound that was almost a sob.
“Both of you.”
Daniel stared.
“You knew?”
“I knew there were two babies.”
“Did you know we lived?”
“Not for years.”
Dominic asked:
“When did you find out?”
Margaret looked at Frank.
“Anthony found me seven years ago.”
Helen felt another betrayal.
“Seven?”
Margaret nodded.
“He begged me not to contact Dominic until he understood who was still watching.”
Daniel laughed bitterly.
“Everyone protected us by lying.”
Margaret's face broke.
“I was afraid.”
He looked away.
They went inside.
Margaret brought out a wooden box.
Inside were Michael's letters.
Hospital documents.
Photographs.
And one cassette labeled:
THE CRASH.
Frank stared.
“You had this?”
“Victor gave it to me.”
Dominic's eyes narrowed.
“You knew Victor?”
Margaret nodded.
“He saved Daniel.”
“Where is he?”
Her expression changed.
“Anthony didn't tell you?”
“No.”
Margaret looked toward the ocean.
“Victor died four months ago.”
Frank whispered:
“How?”
“Cancer.”
Another person gone before truth reached them.
Margaret placed the cassette into an old player.
A man's frightened voice.
Victor.
“I need somebody to know what happened.”
Static.
“I followed Michael because Charles ordered me to scare him.”
Daniel closed his eyes.
“I was driving the truck.”
Frank looked away.
Victor continued.
“I hit the car.”
Silence filled the room.
“But Anthony never ordered it.”
Daniel's head lifted.
“Leonard knew.”
Sabrina's father.
“He was in Charles's office when Cross gave the order.”
Rebecca whispered:
“There it is.”
Victor's voice continued.
“Michael had copies proving Charles Cross and Leonard Walsh were moving money through DeLuca businesses.”
Daniel sat down.
Everything he'd believed since childhood was collapsing.
Then Victor added:
“Michael was still alive after the crash.”
Frank froze.
Margaret gripped the table.
“I saw him moving.”
The tape crackled.
“Anthony went for help.”
Frank whispered:
“No.”
Victor continued.
“Leonard arrived before the ambulance.”
Daniel stared at the player.
“He said Michael couldn't be allowed to talk.”
Frank stood.
“What did he do?”
The cassette went silent for several seconds.
Then Victor's voice returned.
“Leonard pulled Michael from the car.”
Frank's breathing turned ragged.
“He said he'd take him to the hospital.”
Dominic looked at Rebecca.
Something was wrong.
Very wrong.
Victor continued.
“Michael was alive when Leonard put him in his car.”
Frank whispered:
“But he died at the scene.”
Margaret turned off the tape.
Nobody spoke.
Finally, Daniel asked:
“What happened to our father?”
Margaret looked at both sons.
“I don't know.”
Frank stared at her.
“You're saying Michael may not have died in that crash?”
Margaret's eyes filled.
“The body buried under his name was never shown to me.”
Rebecca was already opening her phone.
“We need the death certificate.”
Margaret shook her head.
“There's something else.”
She reached into the wooden box.
Removed a recent photograph.
A man walking out of a veterans' medical center.
Older.
Gray-haired.
A scar along one side of his face.
Frank took the photograph.
His knees nearly gave out.
Dominic caught him.
Daniel whispered:
“Who is that?”
Frank touched the man's face with one trembling finger.
“My son.”
May you like
The photograph had been taken eleven months earlier.
Michael Moretti was alive.
