Chapter 3 - THE SECRET INSIDE THE WOODEN TRAIN
“Victor Sloane was looking for that train,” I whispered.
Gabriel turned toward me.
“What did you say?”
“The day before the shooting. He came into the sunroom while Leo was playing. He asked whether the wooden train had belonged to his mother.”
Pierce frowned.
“Victor's been around that boy since he was born.”
“I know. But Leo didn't want him touching it.”
Gabriel looked at the little engine on my bedside table.
For the first time, he seemed to see something other than a child's toy.
“Why didn't you tell me?”
“Because until yesterday, I thought it was nothing.”
His expression softened slightly.
“Everything matters now.”
Victor Sloane had worked with Gabriel's family for nearly thirty years.
He was a silver-haired man in his late fifties who wore beautifully tailored suits, carried peppermint candies for Leo, and never raised his voice.
Unlike Gabriel's other associates, Victor rarely looked dangerous.
He looked like someone's favorite uncle.
But I remembered the way Leo had pulled the train against his chest when Victor reached for it.
Children notice things adults overlook.
Sometimes they remember things adults wish they would forget.
“Bring him here,” Gabriel told Pierce.
“Victor?”
“Yes. And don't tell him why.”
Pierce left.
I watched Gabriel pick up the train.
“Leo's mother bought this?”
“She gave it to him when he turned three,” he said.
He ran his thumb along the wooden engine.
“Elena loved trains. Her father worked for the railroad. She said every child deserved something that could carry them someplace wonderful.”
His voice changed when he spoke her name.
Not softer, exactly.
More exposed.
“Were you happy together?” I asked.
Gabriel looked at me.
For a moment, I thought I had crossed a line.
“Sometimes,” he answered.
It was the first honest thing he'd ever said to me about his marriage.
Then he added, “Not near the end.”
Before I could ask what that meant, Dr. Keene entered.
She checked my stitches and told Gabriel to stop exhausting me.
He surprised us both by apologizing.
After she left, he remained beside the window.
“Clara, I need you to understand something. Victor was like a father to me after my own father became ill. He helped build the legitimate side of our business. He was there when Elena died.”
I watched his reflection in the glass.
“And he loves Leo?”
“I believed he did.”
That word stayed with me.
Believed.
Not knows.
Twenty minutes later, Victor arrived carrying white roses.
He walked into my room wearing a charcoal suit and a concerned expression.
“My dear girl,” he said. “You gave us all quite a scare.”
He placed the flowers on the table.
Gabriel didn't offer him a chair.
“We're trying to understand the security failure.”
Victor sighed.
“A terrible business. Pierce should have caught it.”
“Someone used Elena's access code.”
For the first time, Victor's smile disappeared.
“Elena's?”
“Yes.”
“How is that possible?”
“That's what I'm asking you.”
Victor looked wounded.
“Gabriel, I loved your wife like a daughter.”
“Then help me.”
Victor loosened his tie.
“I remember something. Six days ago, I requested a review of the older security permissions. We had contractors scheduled. Perhaps someone reopened the account during maintenance.”
Pierce appeared behind him.
“Your request was for warehouse credentials, not the family office.”
Victor turned.
“Adrian, are you accusing me of something?”
“I'm correcting the record.”
Gabriel held up one hand.
The room fell silent.
“Where were you at 3:15 yesterday?” he asked.
Victor's eyebrows rose.
“At St. Anne's Children's Center. Their annual donors' luncheon. There must be two hundred people who saw me.”
Gabriel looked at Pierce.
“Verify it.”
Victor's expression tightened.
Then he faced me.
“Clara, did you see anything useful?”
I felt suddenly cold.
“Three men with rifles.”
“Nothing before that?”
I glanced at the train.
Victor followed my eyes.
Then something remarkable happened.
He smiled.
Not a warm smile.
A careful one.
“Poor Leo,” he murmured. “He must be missing that little engine.”
I said nothing.
Victor reached into his coat and removed a peppermint candy.
“Give him this when you see him.”
Gabriel stepped between us.
“Leave it on the table.”
Victor slowly put it down.
After he left, Gabriel stared at the candy as though it might be poisonous.
“Get it tested,” he told Pierce.
I shook my head.
“That's not what he's hiding.”
Gabriel turned.
“What?”
“He was watching to see whether I'd give him the train.”
An hour passed before anything else happened.
Then I heard footsteps in the hallway.
Small footsteps.
Gabriel opened the door.
Leo stood outside holding Mrs. Gable's hand.
He wore navy pajamas and mismatched socks.
His eyes went straight to me.
“Miss Clara?”
I couldn't speak.
He approached the bed carefully.
“Does it hurt?”
“A little, sweetheart.”
He studied the tubes attached to my arm.
Then he lifted his wooden train from the table.
“Choo-choo,” he whispered.
I laughed.
It hurt terribly.
But I laughed anyway.
Gabriel stood near the doorway, watching his son speak more freely than he had in months.
Leo climbed onto the chair beside me.
He turned the train upside down.
Then he pressed a small brass wheel near the bottom.
A narrow wooden panel slid open.
Gabriel stepped closer.
“What is that?”
Leo shrugged.
“Mommy's hiding place.”
My heart began pounding.
Inside the engine was a tightly folded piece of yellowed paper.
Gabriel reached for it.
Leo pulled the train away.
“No.”
“Leo, I need to see it.”
“No. Mommy said.”
Gabriel stopped.
He looked helpless.
I stretched my good hand toward the child.
“Sweetheart, did your mommy ask you to keep something safe?”
Leo nodded.
“Secret.”
“Was it a good secret or a scary secret?”
He considered that.
“Scary.”
Gabriel slowly crouched beside his chair.
“You can tell Daddy.”
Leo looked at him for a long time.
Then he took out the folded paper and placed it in Gabriel's palm.
Gabriel opened it.
It was an old freight receipt.
The ink had faded, but several things remained clear.
A date from three years earlier.
A shipment number.
W-17.
And two handwritten initials.
V.S.
Victor Sloane.
Across the bottom, Elena had written a sentence in blue ink.
Gabriel read it once.
Then again.
His hand began to tremble.
“What does it say?” I asked.
He looked at his son.
Then at me.
Finally, he spoke.
“Twenty-four medical supply crates. Listed as delivered to St. Anne's Children's Center.”
“Isn't that where Victor said he was yesterday?”
Gabriel nodded.
He turned the paper over.
There, in Elena's handwriting, were eight words.
THE MEDICINE NEVER REACHED THE CHILDREN. FIND OUT WHY.
I felt the air leave my lungs.
Gabriel stared at the receipt.
Then Leo tugged his sleeve.
“Daddy?”
Gabriel looked down.
“Mommy was crying that day.”
Gabriel's face twisted.
“What day, son?”
Leo pointed at the receipt.
“The blue door.”
A silence settled over the room.
Then the little boy said something neither of us was prepared to hear.
“Mr. Victor told Mommy she'd be sorry.”
Gabriel went completely still.
May you like
And Leo, apparently frightened by his father's expression, added one more thing.
“He said it before the fire.”
