Chapter 3 - The Man in the Photograph
Norah stared at the image until Fineian’s face blurred.
His left eye was swollen shut.
Blood had dried beneath his nose.
But he was alive.
“Call them.”
Victor took his phone from her.
“No.”
“They have my brother.”
“And they want me emotional.”
“You’re not emotional.”
Victor looked at her.
“That is exactly what I prefer them to believe.”
They did not go to warehouse fourteen.
Instead, Victor took Norah into a windowless office behind the library while Gabriel dispatched men to the fire.
Three computer monitors illuminated the room.
Victor enlarged the photograph.
“Look.”
“I already looked.”
“Look again.”
Norah forced herself.
Fineian.
Chair.
Concrete wall.
A newspaper on the floor.
One exposed pipe.
Then she noticed the reflection in a metal cabinet.
A blue neon letter.
“An R.”
Victor nodded.
“Anything familiar?”
“No.”
Gabriel entered.
“Fire department found two bodies. Neither matches Fineian’s height.”
Relief nearly collapsed Norah.
Victor was studying the reflection.
“Blue R. Industrial building. Concrete interior.”
Gabriel leaned closer.
“Russo Refrigeration.”
Norah looked between them.
Victor became completely still.
“What is that?”
Gabriel answered.
“An old cold-storage company Victor’s father owned.”
“Owned?”
“Closed fifteen years ago.”
Victor reached for his keys.
Gabriel blocked him.
“It’s bait.”
“Obviously.”
“That usually means we don’t walk into it.”
Victor looked at him.
“Get twelve men.”
“Twenty.”
“Twelve.”
“Victor—”
“Twelve men look like security. Twenty look like fear.”
Within minutes, vehicles were moving through the city.
Norah sat beside Victor again.
“Why would someone take my brother to your father’s property?”
Victor stared through the windshield.
“My father made enemies.”
“So did you.”
“Yes.”
“What happened to him?”
A long pause.
“He died.”
Norah waited.
Victor offered nothing else.
Russo Refrigeration sat beside abandoned rail tracks, its faded sign still visible above rusted loading bays.
RUSSO COLD STORAGE.
The blue R flickered.
Victor’s men spread silently across the property.
Norah was ordered to remain inside the SUV.
She lasted forty seconds.
Then she saw movement behind a second-floor window.
Fineian.
She opened the door.
Gabriel cursed.
“Norah!”
She ran.
The first gunshot shattered a security light.
Victor spun.
“Down!”
He crossed the distance before Norah could react and knocked her behind a concrete barrier.
More shots cracked through the yard.
Glass exploded overhead.
Victor covered her with his body.
“You were given one instruction.”
“My brother is inside!”
“And you’ll be very useful to him dead.”
His face was inches from hers.
For the first time, his calm had broken.
He was furious.
Not because she had disobeyed him.
Because she had nearly been hit.
That realization unsettled her.
Gabriel shouted that the eastern entrance was secure.
Victor pulled Norah upright.
“Stay behind me.”
They entered.
The warehouse smelled of rust, mildew, and something chemical.
Fineian was exactly where the photograph had shown him.
“Took you long enough,” he rasped.
Norah ran to him.
“Finn.”
She grabbed his face.
“You idiot.”
“I know.”
She began untying him.
Victor remained near the doorway.
Too still.
“Who took you?” he asked.
Fineian looked at him.
Fear appeared.
“Victor Russo?”
“Answer.”
“I don’t know.”
Victor’s gaze moved across the room.
“Everybody out.”
Norah frowned.
“What?”
“Now.”
Gabriel smelled it a second later.
“Gas.”
Chaos followed.
Victor grabbed Norah.
Gabriel hauled Fineian and the chair toward the exit because there was no time to finish cutting him loose.
They reached the yard when the warehouse windows blew outward.
Heat struck them.
Norah hit the pavement beneath Victor.
For several seconds, she heard nothing but ringing.
Then Victor rolled away.
Blood ran from a cut near his temple.
“You okay?”
Norah stared at him.
He was bleeding, his shirt was torn, and he was asking about her.
“Yes.”
Fineian was alive.
Gabriel cut the remaining rope.
Victor looked at the burning building.
“They expected us to die inside.”
Fineian began shaking.
Norah crouched beside him.
“Tell us everything.”
Fineian closed his eyes.
“I never owed Russo.”
“I know.”
His eyes opened.
“What?”
“Then why did you tell me you did?”
Fineian looked toward Victor.
“I borrowed money from someone else. A guy named Mercer.”
Victor’s jaw tightened.
Gabriel muttered a curse.
Norah heard it.
“Who is Mercer?”
Victor answered.
“Elias Mercer. He ran collections for my father.”
“Ran?”
“I fired him eight years ago.”
“Why?”
Victor looked toward the flames.
“He enjoyed hurting people.”
Fineian continued.
“Mercer said my debt could disappear if I did something.”
“What?”
“Carry envelopes. Nothing else.”
Victor crouched.
“To Vale?”
Fineian nodded.
“And others.”
“Names.”
“I don’t know them all.”
“Try.”
Fineian listed three.
A judge.
A port official.
Councilman Vale.
Victor stood.
His face had gone cold again.
Fineian caught Norah’s hand.
“There’s more.”
“What?”
“Mercer knew you’d go to Victor.”
Norah stared.
“How?”
“He told me six days ago.”
Victor turned.
Fineian swallowed.
“He said, ‘Your sister will do anything for you. Even walk straight into Russo’s arms.’”
Silence.
Norah looked at Victor.
“This was planned before the gala.”
“Yes.”
“But why me?”
Victor did not answer.
Fineian did.
“Because of Mom.”
Norah slowly faced him.
“Our mother has been dead twelve years.”
Fineian’s expression crumpled.
“I found something in her storage unit.”
“What?”
“A ledger.”
Victor’s eyes sharpened.
Fineian continued.
“Names. Payments. Dates. Russo was written all over it.”
Norah looked at Victor.
He seemed genuinely confused.
“My mother knew your family?”
Victor stepped closer.
“What was her name?”
“Evelyn Hastings.”
Something happened to Victor.
It was the first time Norah saw true shock reach his face.
Gabriel whispered, “Jesus.”
Norah stood.
“You knew her.”
Victor looked at the burning warehouse.
Then back at Norah.
“I knew of her.”
“That’s not an answer.”
“No.”
Victor’s voice lowered.
“It isn’t.”
“Then give me one.”
His eyes met hers.
“Evelyn Hastings wasn’t your mother’s real name.”
Norah felt the night tilt beneath her.
Victor continued.
“Her name was Evelyn Moretti.”
Fineian stared.
Norah could barely speak.
“So?”
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Victor's next words changed everything.
“She was the accountant who stole ten million dollars from my father the night he was murdered.”
