Chapter 4 - THE WOMAN WHO RAISED HIM
Gabriel read his mother’s name three times.
Then he closed the laptop.
Rachel stared at him.
“That’s it?”
“No.”
“You just closed it.”
“Because I’m thinking.”
“My mother died.”
“I know.”
“And your mother may know why.”
“I know.”
Rachel stepped closer.
“Then call her.”
Gabriel’s eyes hardened.
“My mother had a stroke three years ago.”
Rachel stopped.
“She can barely speak.”
Camille lowered her gaze.
“She lives at St. Agnes Residence.”
Rachel turned toward her.
“You knew?”
“I knew Susan named Eleanor. I didn’t know why.”
Gabriel looked furious.
“You knew my mother was connected and said nothing?”
“Michael made me promise.”
“My brother seems to make a lot of decisions for me.”
“He was trying to protect her.”
“From me?”
“From whoever is still cleaning up Pier Nine.”
That changed the room.
Rachel looked at the memory card.
“You think someone else is involved.”
Camille nodded.
“The replacement lock wasn’t mine.”
Gabriel stared.
“You told Rachel you ordered it.”
“I did order a locksmith.”
“But?”
“I ordered the original lock repaired. Someone canceled my request and had the entire cylinder replaced.”
Rachel felt cold.
“So whoever replaced it knew someone had entered.”
“And knew about the dye,” Gabriel said.
Camille nodded.
Gabriel picked up his coat.
“We’re going to St. Agnes.”
Camille stood.
“All of us?”
“No.”
He looked at her.
“You stay here.”
“You think I’m the danger?”
“I think I don’t know what you are yet.”
Pain crossed Camille’s face.
She accepted it.
“Fair.”
Rachel almost admired her for that.
Forty minutes later, Gabriel and Rachel entered St. Agnes through a private side entrance.
Eleanor Romano’s room overlooked Baltimore Harbor.
She was eighty-two.
Thin.
Silver-haired.
One side of her face remained slightly weakened from the stroke.
But her eyes were sharp.
Very sharp.
When Gabriel entered, she smiled.
When Rachel stepped behind him, the smile vanished.
Eleanor stared at her.
Then at the medal around Rachel’s fingers.
Her breathing quickened.
“Susan,” she whispered.
Rachel stopped.
“I’m Rachel.”
Eleanor’s eyes filled.
“Rachel.”
Gabriel sat beside his mother.
“Mom, we found Susan Mercer’s letter.”
Eleanor closed her eyes.
Gabriel took her hand.
“She named you.”
His mother pulled away.
Rachel expected denial.
Instead Eleanor struggled to speak.
“I... told... her.”
“Told her what?”
“Run.”
Gabriel leaned closer.
“You warned Susan?”
Eleanor nodded.
Rachel’s anger shifted.
Not gone.
Changed.
“My mother wrote that you ordered the cover-up.”
Eleanor shook her head violently.
Then pointed toward the cabinet.
“Coat.”
Gabriel opened it.
Only one garment hung inside.
A dark wool coat.
He brought it to her.
Eleanor touched the lining.
“Inside.”
Rachel found a stitched pocket.
Inside was an old cassette tape.
And a brass key.
Gabriel stared at both.
“What is this?”
Eleanor whispered, “Anthony.”
Gabriel found an old player in a drawer.
The tape crackled.
Then Anthony Romano’s voice filled the room.
“If you’re hearing this, Eleanor was right not to trust me.”
Gabriel stopped breathing.
Anthony continued.
“I signed the order to continue the Pier Nine pour.”
Rachel’s hand closed around the bed rail.
“But I did it after my sons were threatened.”
Gabriel looked at his mother.
“Michael found falsified engineering reports. Susan Mercer found the payments behind them. We believed one of our partners had been using Romano projects to wash money through subcontractors.”
Rachel listened.
Anthony’s voice grew rougher.
“I thought I could control it. I was wrong.”
The recording crackled.
“Eleanor arranged the settlements. I put my signature on everything so nobody would look at her or the boys.”
Gabriel’s eyes filled with disbelief.
His mother hadn’t ordered the cover-up.
She had organized payments to victims afterward.
Anthony had deliberately made himself appear responsible.
Rachel remembered Susan’s letter.
Do not let Rachel grow up believing Anthony Romano was responsible.
“Who threatened you?” Gabriel whispered at the recorder.
The tape continued.
“The answer is in the third ledger.”
Gabriel and Rachel looked at each other.
Not the second ledger.
A third.
Anthony’s voice continued.
“I gave it to Susan.”
Rachel’s heart stopped.
“If Susan is dead, Thomas knows where she hid it.”
The tape clicked off.
Rachel stepped away.
“My father.”
Gabriel looked at her.
“He’s known all these years.”
Eleanor reached for Rachel’s wrist.
Her grip was surprisingly strong.
“Thomas... good man.”
Rachel’s eyes burned.
“Then why did he lie to me?”
Eleanor struggled.
“Promise.”
“What promise?”
“To Susan.”
Rachel crouched beside her.
“What did he promise?”
Eleanor looked at the medal.
Then whispered:
“Keep you... away.”
Rachel understood.
Her father hadn’t hidden his past because he was guilty.
Her mother had asked him to keep Rachel away from the Romano family.
Gabriel looked devastated.
“My family.”
Eleanor shook her head.
“Not... family.”
“Then who?”
She pointed toward the brass key.
Gabriel turned it over.
A number had been engraved into it.
117.
Rachel recognized the style.
“That’s not a door key.”
Gabriel did too.
“Safe-deposit box.”
Eleanor nodded.
“Union bank.”
Before they could ask more, a nurse entered.
“Mr. Romano, I’m sorry, but your mother needs rest.”
Gabriel stood reluctantly.
Rachel leaned toward Eleanor.
“Did my mother know she was going to die?”
Eleanor’s eyes filled.
She touched Rachel’s cheek.
“No.”
Then, after a painful effort, she added:
“She thought... Thomas would.”
Rachel froze.
“My father was the target?”
Eleanor nodded.
Outside the room, Rachel immediately called him.
No answer.
Again.
Nothing.
Gabriel called his security man stationed near Thomas’s apartment.
The man answered.
Then Gabriel’s expression changed.
“When?”
Rachel grabbed his sleeve.
“What happened?”
Gabriel ended the call.
“Your father left twenty minutes ago.”
“Why would security let him leave?”
“He said he was going to the pharmacy.”
Rachel shook her head.
“He doesn’t drive at night.”
Gabriel’s phone buzzed with a security image.
Thomas Mercer had been caught on a traffic camera entering a downtown parking garage.
Rachel stared at the timestamp.
Then at the address.
The garage sat directly beneath Union Bank.
“He went for the box,” she whispered.
They drove there.
Thomas’s truck was parked on level three.
Empty.
On the passenger seat lay his old brown work jacket.
Rachel opened the unlocked door.
Inside the pocket she found a folded child’s drawing.
She recognized it instantly.
She had made it when she was four.
Three stick figures holding hands.
Mommy.
Daddy.
Rachel.
But sometime after she had drawn it, someone had added a fourth figure in blue ink.
A tall man beside Susan.
Rachel turned the paper over.
Her father had written something on the back.
If Rachel ever finds this, tell her I’m sorry I lied about who saved her that night.
Below it was one name.
Michael Romano.
Then Gabriel looked toward the concrete pillar beside the truck.
Fresh blue security dye marked the surface.
And beneath it, written with a shaking finger, were two words:
May you like
BOX 117.
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