Chapter 4 - The Dead Brother
Zara sat motionless in Adrian's car.
Nobody spoke.
Marcus replayed the footage.
The driver's face appeared for less than three seconds.
Same narrow nose.
Same dark eyes.
Same tiny scar beside his left eyebrow from falling off a bicycle at eleven.
Evan Bennett.
Zara's brother had supposedly died at twenty-three after his car went through a guardrail outside Milwaukee.
She had identified his watch.
The body had been badly burned.
Adrian crouched beside the open car door.
“Look at me.”
She didn't.
“Zara.”
“My mother died believing both her husband and son were dead.”
“I know.”
“I spent seven years visiting a grave.”
Adrian said nothing.
“Find him.”
It was not a request.
For once, Adrian did exactly what she asked without trying to make the decision for her.
Marcus found the SUV before noon.
Abandoned.
By four, traffic cameras traced Evan to a motel outside Cicero.
Adrian wanted Zara nowhere near it.
He almost said so.
Then remembered the divorce papers.
“I'd prefer you stayed here.”
Zara looked at him.
“But?”
“But you're coming anyway.”
“Yes.”
“Then stay beside me.”
“I can agree to that.”
Progress, Adrian thought grimly.
The motel room was empty when they arrived.
The bed was untouched.
A prepaid phone sat on the table.
Beside it was a photograph of Zara at seventeen and Evan at nineteen eating ice cream on Navy Pier.
On the back:
I’m sorry.
Zara picked it up.
The phone rang.
Everyone froze.
She answered.
“Hello?”
Breathing.
Then:
“Zee?”
Her knees nearly gave way.
Only one person had called her that.
“Evan?”
Adrian caught her elbow.
Her brother began crying.
“I'm sorry.”
“Where are you?”
“I can't tell you.”
“You're alive.”
“I didn't have a choice.”
“You always have a choice!”
“No, Zara. Dad didn't.”
She stopped.
“What?”
“He found something. People came after him. He made me promise that if anything happened, I'd disappear with the evidence.”
“The ledger?”
Silence.
“You have it.”
“Not anymore.”
“Where is it?”
“I divided it.”
Adrian leaned closer.
Evan continued.
“Dad said one person should never have all of it.”
“Why let us think you were dead?”
“Because they were watching you.”
Zara's voice broke.
“I was your sister.”
“That's why.”
“Seven years, Evan.”
“I know.”
“You could have called once.”
“And if that call got you killed?”
She closed her eyes.
Adrian understood that logic too well.
He hated it now.
Perhaps because he was hearing his own mistakes in another man's voice.
“Who broke into the center?” Zara asked.
“I did.”
“Why?”
“To recover something Dad hid.”
“What?”
“A key.”
“Did you find it?”
“No.”
A noise sounded through the phone.
Evan suddenly stopped breathing.
“Evan?”
“Zara, listen carefully.”
His voice changed.
“If Adrian still has his father's watch, open it.”
Adrian frowned.
“Why?”
“Dad hid the key where Victor would never look because Victor hated sentimental things.”
Another sound.
A door.
“Evan?”
“I have to go.”
“Wait!”
“If something happens to me, don't trust—”
The call ended.
“Don't trust who?” Zara shouted.
Nothing.
Marcus immediately began tracing the number.
Adrian stood very still.
“My father's watch.”
They returned home.
The watch had been locked inside Adrian's safe since Victor's funeral.
Heavy platinum.
Mechanical.
Engraved with the Cross initials.
Adrian turned it over.
Nothing.
Zara examined the crown.
“Evan said open it.”
Adrian fetched a small tool.
The back plate came loose.
Inside, beneath the mechanism, was a tiny brass key.
Adrian stared at it.
“My father wore this every day.”
Zara took the key.
“Which means my father had access to it.”
Marcus examined the number engraved along the shaft.
“217.”
Adrian immediately recognized it.
“Halstead Grand.”
“What?”
“The old private deposit boxes beneath the hotel. Victor kept one.”
They drove downtown.
Box 217 contained no ledger.
Only a cassette recorder.
And one sealed letter addressed to Zara.
Her hands shook as she opened it.
My darling Zara,
If you are reading this, then I failed to come home.
She stopped.
Adrian moved beside her.
She continued.
There is something you must know about Adrian Cross.
Her eyes lifted.
Adrian went still.
Zara read the next line.
Then looked at her husband as though she had never seen him before.
“What?”
She handed him the letter.
Adrian read it.
His face lost all color.
Thomas Bennett had written:
Victor Cross ordered my death.
May you like
And beneath it:
But his son Adrian is the reason I survived the first attempt.
