Chapter 5 - THE MAN EVERYONE TRUSTED
Dominic Vale arrived twenty-three minutes later.
He walked into the security room carrying an umbrella and wearing the mildly irritated expression of a man who had been pulled away from dinner.
At sixty-two, Dominic was still handsome.
Silver hair.
Expensive charcoal suit.
Perfect manners.
He kissed Grace on the forehead when she ran toward him.
“There’s my favorite troublemaker.”
“I’m your only troublemaker.”
“That explains why you’re winning.”
Grace smiled.
Lydia watched Cassian.
His face gave away nothing.
“Dominic.”
His uncle looked toward the frozen security image.
Then at Anna.
Something flickered across his face.
Gone almost instantly.
“Well.”
Cassian folded his arms.
“You recognize her.”
“Of course I recognize your former wife.”
“She used your gate code.”
Dominic glanced toward the screen.
“That code hasn’t been active in years.”
“It worked this morning.”
“Then someone restored it.”
“Who knew it?”
“You. Me. Security.”
Cassian’s security chief shook his head.
“Not that one. Mr. Vale requested a personal code outside the master system.”
Dominic smiled faintly.
“I’m getting old. Perhaps I forgot.”
Lydia had spent years cleaning homes for wealthy people.
She had learned something useful.
People revealed more while pretending not to notice the help than they did under questioning.
Dominic was calm.
Too calm.
But when Cassian placed his mother’s silver watch on the desk, Dominic’s left hand tightened around his umbrella handle.
“You recognize that too,” Lydia said.
Dominic looked at her for the first time.
“And you are?”
“Lydia Carter.”
His eyes changed.
Only for a fraction of a second.
But she caught it.
“So,” he said softly. “Helen’s daughter.”
Cassian stepped forward.
“You know Helen.”
“I knew dozens of employees.”
“You remembered her after twenty-four years.”
Dominic looked amused.
“Some people are memorable.”
“Why?”
“Ask your mother.”
Lydia hated him immediately.
Not because he was threatening.
Because he enjoyed knowing things other people did not.
Grace tugged Cassian’s hand.
“Can I show Lydia my room?”
Cassian looked down.
“Stay with Rosa for a little while.”
“But—”
“Please.”
Grace heard the seriousness in his voice.
“Okay.”
She started toward the door, then turned.
“Oh. Uncle Dom?”
“Yes?”
“You forgot your boat picture.”
Dominic frowned.
“What boat picture?”
“The one you showed me yesterday.”
Cassian looked sharply at his uncle.
Dominic smiled.
“I promised to take her sailing before winter.”
Grace skipped away.
Cassian waited until the door closed.
“Which boat?”
“A boat, Cassian.”
“Which one?”
Dominic’s smile disappeared.
“You’re becoming tiresome.”
Lydia looked at the child’s drawing again.
Grace had colored something blue beside the greenhouse.
Not a coat.
A shape.
She had assumed it was the woman.
Now Lydia wasn’t sure.
She picked up the drawing.
“Grace said the woman wore blue.”
Cassian nodded.
Lydia pointed to the picture.
“But she drew the coat red.”
Everyone looked.
The unnamed woman had a red triangle around her body.
Beside her, near the gate, Grace had drawn a blue rectangle.
Lydia called toward the hallway.
“Grace?”
The little girl returned.
“What is this blue part?”
Grace looked at the drawing.
“The boat ticket.”
Cassian crouched beside her.
“What ticket?”
“The lady dropped it.”
Grace reached inside the box of crayons she had carried with her.
A faded blue ferry ticket was folded beneath the yellow crayon.
“I forgot.”
Cassian took it.
Hudson commuter ferry.
Pier 19.
One-way.
The date was that morning.
Dominic’s expression remained calm.
But Lydia saw his gaze shift toward the exit.
Cassian did too.
“Where were you at five this morning?”
“At home.”
“Alone?”
Dominic laughed.
“This is absurd.”
“Answer.”
“Yes.”
Cassian handed the ticket to Lydia.
On the back, someone had written a locker number.
Pier 19 no longer had commercial passenger service, but an old ferry terminal remained beside the renovated marina.
Cassian wanted Grace to stay home.
Grace objected.
Cassian won.
For once.
Dominic insisted on coming.
Cassian refused.
That argument became uglier.
“You are letting a maid and a photograph convince you your family is your enemy.”
Dominic’s words landed hard.
Lydia turned.
“A maid noticed you knew my mother before anyone told you she worked for the Vales.”
Dominic’s eyes moved to her.
“And what exactly do you think that proves?”
“Nothing.”
She held his gaze.
“But you didn’t like me noticing.”
For the first time, his pleasant mask cracked.
Cassian saw it.
Two cars left for Pier 19.
Margaret came too.
Nobody invited her.
Nobody stopped her.
Locker 214 stood in a row of rusted storage boxes inside the old ferry terminal.
The blue ticket opened it.
Inside were no ledgers.
No money.
No weapons.
Only an old red coat.
Helen’s coat.
Anna had worn it on the security footage.
Lydia pulled it out.
Something fell from one pocket.
A photograph.
Six women stood together on the back terrace of Vale House.
Lydia recognized Anna.
She recognized Caroline from a newspaper article she had once seen.
The other four had to be Cassian’s former wives.
All six were smiling.
Cassian stared.
“This was taken after Anna disappeared.”
Lydia looked at him.
“You’re sure?”
“The terrace was renovated three years ago.”
Anna had supposedly vanished six years earlier.
Cassian flipped the photo over.
Six signatures appeared on the back.
Caroline.
Bianca.
Lucia.
Marisol.
Nadine.
Anna.
Beneath them was a message.
WE WERE NEVER RUNNING FROM CASSIAN.
Margaret sat down hard on a nearby bench.
Cassian stared at her.
“You knew.”
“I suspected.”
“You knew.”
Margaret closed her eyes.
Before she could answer, Lydia noticed another photograph inside the coat pocket.
This one was older.
Pier 19.
Twenty-four years earlier.
Celeste Vale stood near the loading doors.
Helen beside her.
Margaret several feet away.
And a fourth person.
Dominic Vale.
Celeste had written on the back.
If I don’t leave Pier 19 tonight, Dominic did it.
Margaret knows why.
Cassian read the sentence twice.
Then his phone vibrated.
He looked at the screen.
His face changed.
“What?”
Lydia stepped closer.
The message was from Rosa, Grace’s nanny.
Grace was gone.
May you like
On her pillow was a note written in purple crayon.
UNCLE DOM SAID UNCLE CASH SAID YES.
