Chapter 3 - The Photograph in Her Father’s Wallet
By noon, Avery’s entire understanding of her childhood had been dismantled.
Cameron moved Rosa and the diner staff to a nearby hotel while police examined the shooting. His security team occupied an entire floor.
Avery refused the luxury suite he offered.
She sat instead in a small conference room with a bandage around her forearm and anger keeping her upright.
Across the table sat Bradley Hayes.
The arrogant billionaire looked considerably less arrogant without his expensive coat and entourage.
“You.”
Bradley blinked.
“You’re the waitress.”
“Avery,” Cameron corrected from behind her.
Bradley’s eyes shifted toward him.
Fear appeared immediately.
Interesting.
Avery turned.
“You said nobody touched him.”
“Nobody did.”
Bradley rubbed his wrists anyway.
“They took my phone.”
“You were attempting to destroy it,” Cameron said.
“Because you kidnapped me!”
“You voluntarily entered my building after my attorney informed you someone had sabotaged your vehicle.”
Bradley looked at Avery.
“He talks like this all the time.”
“Apparently.”
For one absurd second, Avery almost enjoyed herself.
Then Cameron placed Bradley’s recovered phone on the table.
“Tell her.”
Bradley swallowed.
“Tell her what?”
“Why you went to Rosa’s.”
“I got a flat tire.”
Cameron tapped the screen.
A message appeared.
7:10. ROSA’S DINER. CORNER BOOTH. CONFIRM MORETTI IS PRESENT. $250K AFTER VISUAL.
Avery’s stomach tightened.
Bradley looked sick.
“I didn’t know anyone was going to shoot him.”
“You accepted a quarter million dollars to identify his location?” Avery asked.
Bradley straightened defensively.
“I have debts.”
“You mocked me over five dollars.”
His face reddened.
“Look, the coffee thing was an accident.”
“The coffee was,” Avery said. “Everything you said afterward wasn’t.”
Bradley looked away.
Cameron’s expression remained unreadable.
“Who paid you?”
“I don’t know.”
“You moved offshore positions this morning,” Cameron said. “For whom?”
Bradley hesitated.
Cameron leaned forward.
“Your choice is becoming very narrow.”
Avery looked sharply at him.
Cameron noticed and sat back.
Bradley rubbed his face.
“Calder.”
The name changed Cameron.
Barely.
But Avery saw it.
“Victor Calder?”
Bradley nodded.
Cameron stood.
“Who is he?” Avery asked.
“My uncle.”
The door opened.
A tall man in a black suit entered—the same dark-haired man Avery had occasionally seen near Cameron’s booth.
“Cameron.”
“Julian.”
Julian placed an old photograph on the table.
Avery recognized her father instantly.
Anthony Russo stood beside a much younger Cameron on a Brooklyn pier.
Her father was smiling.
Cameron wasn’t.
Between them stood another man.
Victor Calder.
Avery picked up the photograph with trembling fingers.
“Where did you get this?”
“Your mother,” Julian said.
Avery looked up.
“My mother?”
Cameron went very still.
Julian continued carefully.
“She called after hearing about the shooting.”
Avery pushed away from the table.
“My mother knows Victor Calder?”
Nobody answered quickly enough.
“Where is she?”
“At home,” Cameron said.
“I want to see her.”
“Avery—”
“Now.”
Thirty minutes later, four black SUVs stopped outside the modest brick house where Avery had grown up.
Her mother, Maria Russo, was waiting.
She opened the door before Avery reached it.
Then she slapped Cameron Moretti across the face.
Every security guard froze.
Avery froze.
Cameron did not move.
Maria pointed a shaking finger at him.
“I told you to stay away from my daughter.”
“Mom?”
Maria’s eyes filled with tears.
“Avery.”
“What is happening?”
Her mother looked suddenly older.
“Come inside.”
They gathered around the same kitchen table where Avery had done algebra homework and eaten birthday cake.
Maria opened a small metal box.
Inside were photographs, letters, and a leather wallet.
Anthony Russo’s wallet.
Avery touched it.
“You told me this was lost in the crash.”
“There was no crash.”
The truth finally came.
Anthony Russo had worked for Moretti Maritime, but not merely as a driver.
He had discovered Victor Calder stealing from the company and using Moretti shipping routes to move illegal weapons.
Anthony had planned to testify.
Before he could, Calder ordered Cameron’s assassination and arranged Anthony’s death.
Anthony saved Cameron during the first attempt.
Three days later, he disappeared.
His body was found near a wrecked truck.
The accident had been staged.
Avery cried without realizing she had started.
“You knew?”
Maria nodded.
“Cameron’s father came here the night Anthony died. He promised Calder would never learn Anthony had a daughter.”
Avery looked at Cameron.
“And you?”
“I promised your mother the same thing.”
Maria glared at him.
“You promised to stay away.”
“I did for years.”
“Then why did you start going to the diner?”
Cameron looked at Avery.
Maria saw the answer before Avery did.
“Oh, no.”
“Mom.”
“No.”
Cameron remained silent.
Maria laughed bitterly.
“You Moretti men. Always thinking wanting something gives you the right to stand near it.”
“I never touched her life.”
“You watched it.”
“Yes.”
“That is not better.”
“No.”
Avery wiped her cheeks.
“Why now? Why is Calder coming after Cameron again after fourteen years?”
Julian placed another document on the table.
“Because Cameron is selling the last private shipping terminals Calder uses.”
Cameron added, “If the sale closes Friday, Victor loses access to the ports.”
“And Bradley?”
“A useful idiot.”
From the living room came the sound of breaking glass.
Every security guard moved.
Cameron was out of his chair instantly.
“Down!”
Avery dropped beside her mother.
Julian drew a weapon.
But no gunfire followed.
One of the guards returned holding a brick wrapped in paper.
Cameron removed the note.
His expression hardened.
Avery reached for it.
He resisted.
“Give it to me.”
“Avery.”
“Give it.”
He did.
Three words had been written across the paper.
ANTHONY SHOULD’VE LISTENED.
Below them was a photograph.
Taken that morning.
Avery walking toward Rosa’s Diner.
Maria covered her mouth.
Cameron stared at the picture.
For the first time since Avery had known him, his control cracked.
Not into anger.
Into fear.
Because Victor Calder had discovered the secret Cameron Moretti had spent fourteen years protecting.
May you like
Anthony Russo had left behind a daughter.
And Cameron had just shown the entire world exactly how much she mattered.
