Chapter 5 - THE SIGNATURE OF A DANGEROUS MAN
“You signed it.”
I heard myself say the words, but my voice sounded strangely distant.
Dante didn't look away.
“Yes.”
Mrs. Alvarez closed the binder halfway.
“Perhaps you should explain yourself, Mr. Moretti.”
He took a slow breath.
“In 2018, my father was restructuring several businesses. Frank presented me with a proposal to transfer six dogs from Harbor House to a professional training facility.”
“And you approved it?” I asked.
“Yes.”
“Without checking what happened to them?”
“I reviewed the summary. The animals were described as difficult to place. Frank claimed they would receive specialized care.”
I looked at Orion.
“And you believed him?”
“I had trusted him for twenty years.”
“That's not what I asked.”
Dante's jaw tightened.
“No. I didn't verify what he told me.”
It was the first answer he'd given that didn't sound like a powerful man trying to defend himself.
But it didn't make me feel better.
“My mother lost her job. She spent the last two years of her life believing nobody would ever clear her name.”
Dante lowered his eyes.
“I'm beginning to understand that.”
“No,” I said. “You're beginning to read about it. There's a difference.”
Mrs. Alvarez placed a gentle hand on my shoulder.
“Olivia, sweetheart.”
I stepped away.
For eight years, I'd blamed my mother for giving away Bear.
Now I knew she'd fought to keep him.
And the man who had unknowingly brought us together again had helped take him away.
I couldn't decide whether to be grateful or furious.
Maybe both.
Before leaving, I showed Mrs. Alvarez the photograph with Frank's signature on the back.
She recognized it immediately.
“That's from our volunteer identification file.”
“What?”
“When Frank took over operations, he demanded photographs of everyone who handled the dogs. Said it was for security.”
“Why would he sign mine?”
“He personally approved which family members could visit after the transfers. Your mother argued with him about keeping you out of it.”
She turned the photograph over.
“That signature meant he'd reviewed your name.”
A terrible thought occurred to me.
“He knew who I was all along.”
Mrs. Alvarez nodded.
“And if Nora complained again, he knew exactly who she was afraid for.”
Dante looked at the photograph with renewed disgust.
“I've been letting that man oversee my security.”
“Then perhaps you should stop,” I said.
“I intend to.”
“Intentions won't give my mother her reputation back.”
I left before he could answer.
Orion tried to follow me.
I stopped outside the green door and crouched beside him.
“Not yet, sweetheart.”
He whined.
I touched his scar.
“I found you once. I'll find my way back.”
Dante stood several feet away.
For once, he didn't try to control the situation.
He simply let me leave.
When I returned to the restaurant that afternoon, my manager was waiting.
His name was Mr. Keene.
He had supervised me for three years.
During that time, I'd covered extra shifts, trained new employees, and worked through holidays when everyone else wanted to be home.
He couldn't look me in the eye.
“Olivia, we need to discuss your employment.”
My stomach dropped.
“Am I in trouble?”
“The ownership group has concerns about the attention surrounding you.”
“What attention?”
He shifted uncomfortably.
“Mr. Moretti's people. Other people asking about you. We can't have security issues.”
“Have I done anything wrong?”
“No.”
“Then why am I standing here?”
He placed an envelope on the desk.
My final paycheck.
I stared at it.
“I'm being fired because someone powerful knows my name?”
“I'm sorry.”
I thought about the rent due in eleven days.
The electricity bill.
The groceries I'd been stretching for two weeks.
Then I picked up the envelope.
“You should be sorry,” I said quietly.
“And someday I hope you understand why.”
That evening, I opened my mother's old wardrobe.
I'd kept her clothes after she died.
Not because I expected to wear them.
Because I couldn't bear to give away the things that still smelled faintly like home.
Her dark green winter coat hung at the back.
I remembered how she'd worn it to the hospital even in spring, always complaining that medical offices were freezing.
I slipped my hands into the pockets.
There was a peppermint wrapper.
A grocery receipt.
And something stiff beneath the lining.
My mother had sewn a small square of fabric inside.
I carefully opened the stitches.
A folded letter fell out.
It wasn't addressed to me.
It was addressed to Salvatore Moretti.
Dante's father.
The letter was dated February 2019.
Mr. Moretti,
You promised that Bear would be moved somewhere safe if I stopped asking questions about North Pier.
I kept my part of our agreement.
I told Olivia he had been adopted. I surrendered my position. I stopped speaking publicly about the injured animals.
But the other five dogs are still missing.
I will not let you buy my silence forever.
I pressed the paper against my chest.
My mother hadn't simply lost an argument.
She'd made a bargain.
She had sacrificed her reputation to keep me safe and get Bear away from North Pier.
But there was another paragraph.
Frank says you approved everything. He says your son knows what happened to the animals.
If that's true, then neither of you deserves the loyalty my daughter still believes powerful men should earn.
At the bottom, my mother had written one final sentence.
“I kept copies, Salvatore. And if you break your promise, the truth won't stay buried with me.”
I looked down at the tiny silver bell on my table.
Bay 4.
Bin 19.
May you like
My mother had left me a way to find the evidence.
And Frank Bellini had spent eight years making sure nobody went looking.
