Chapter 7 - WHAT HER MOTHER KNEW
Clare’s mother had died on a Tuesday.
Six years earlier.
Margaret Bennett had been fifty-eight.
Healthy enough to work twelve-hour shifts.
Stubborn enough to refuse help carrying groceries.
Funny enough to leave insulting notes inside Clare’s lunch bag because she claimed hospital cafeteria food had already taken all the dignity from her daughter’s life.
Officially, Margaret died after losing control of her car on an icy road.
Clare had believed it because there had been nothing else to believe.
Until Anthony Bell told her Margaret had discovered the Lakeview scheme.
Clare sat inside Dominic’s library at four in the morning staring at an old photograph.
Margaret Bennett stood beside a Christmas tree wearing snowman pajamas and holding a glass of wine.
Dominic sat across from Clare.
He hadn’t spoken for several minutes.
Finally she asked, “Did you know?”
“No.”
“Did Bell tell you?”
“No.”
“You expect me to believe that?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because if I knew somebody murdered your mother, I wouldn’t be sitting here quietly.”
Clare believed him.
That frightened her almost as much as the alternative.
“What did she discover?”
Bell had been taken into federal protection.
Before leaving the warehouse, he gave them one additional piece of information.
Margaret Bennett had worked part-time in Lakeview’s pharmacy administration department before transferring.
She noticed discrepancies.
Shipment numbers.
Missing medications.
Vendor changes that made no sense.
She copied records.
Then contacted somebody named V.R.
Dominic assumed Victor Romano.
But Bell insisted Victor hadn’t been part of the original scheme.
“He helped her,” Bell had said.
Now Dominic stood.
“I’m calling him again.”
“He won’t answer.”
“He’ll answer this.”
Dominic called a private number.
Victor answered on the third ring.
His voice came through the speaker.
“Dominic.”
“Margaret Bennett.”
Silence.
Clare stopped breathing.
Dominic’s voice went cold.
“You know the name.”
Victor sighed.
“Yes.”
“Get here.”
“I can’t.”
“You can.”
“They’re watching me.”
“Who?”
“The people you should have dealt with years ago instead of pretending legitimate business could wash the family clean.”
Dominic’s expression hardened.
“Who killed Margaret Bennett?”
Victor didn’t answer.
“Uncle.”
Clare had never heard Dominic say the word that way.
Not as a title.
As a boy.
“Who killed her?”
Victor finally said, “I don’t know.”
Clare stood.
“That’s a lie.”
Victor heard her.
“Clare?”
Her stomach turned.
“You knew my mother.”
“Yes.”
“How?”
“She came to me.”
“Why?”
“Because the vendor at the center of her investigation was using a Romano freight subsidiary.”
Dominic’s gaze sharpened.
“Which subsidiary?”
“Northline Medical.”
Dominic turned away.
Clare noticed his reaction.
“What?”
Dominic looked at Victor through the phone.
“Northline belonged to my father.”
“Yes.”
“You told me it was dissolved after his death.”
“It was supposed to be.”
Dominic went very still.
Victor continued.
“Somebody kept operating under shell registrations. By the time Margaret found out, tens of millions had moved through it.”
“And you didn't tell me?”
“You were twenty-four.”
“I was running the family.”
“You were trying to survive it.”
Dominic’s jaw tightened.
“What happened to Margaret?”
“I arranged to meet her.”
“Where?”
“A diner near Evanston.”
Clare felt tears burning behind her eyes.
Victor’s voice softened.
“She brought copies of everything. I told her I would help. She didn’t trust the police because one detective had already warned someone at Lakeview.”
“What happened?”
“She left before me.”
Victor paused.
“Forty minutes later, her car went through a guardrail.”
Clare closed her eyes.
For years she had blamed weather.
Bad tires.
Bad luck.
All the ordinary explanations people use because extraordinary cruelty is harder to live with.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” she whispered.
“I tried.”
“No, you didn’t.”
“I came to the funeral.”
Clare remembered.
A man in a dark coat had stood at the back of the church.
She hadn’t known him.
“You?”
“Yes.”
“You said nothing.”
“I was afraid whoever killed Margaret would come after you.”
Clare laughed bitterly.
“So you protected me by leaving me ignorant?”
“Yes.”
“That worked wonderfully.”
Victor accepted the insult.
Dominic stepped closer to the phone.
“Where are you?”
“No.”
“Victor.”
“I’m not giving you the address.”
“Then give it to Rebecca Sloan.”
Silence.
Victor finally said, “There’s one more thing.”
Clare felt dread.
“What?”
“Your mother kept a second copy.”
“Where?”
“She never told me.”
“Then how do you know?”
“Because the night before she died, she called me.”
Victor’s voice became quieter.
“She said, ‘If they come for me, Clare will have what they need.’”
Clare stared at the phone.
“I have nothing.”
“Maybe you do.”
The call disconnected.
For the next six hours, Clare tried to remember every object her mother had left behind.
Jewelry.
Cookbooks.
A cedar chest.
Old nursing pins.
Photographs.
Letters.
Then she remembered the one thing she had carried for years without questioning it.
Her stethoscope.
Battered.
Repaired with electrical tape three times.
It had belonged to Margaret first.
Clare pulled it from her grocery bag.
Dominic watched.
“What?”
“My mother gave me this when I graduated.”
She turned the chest piece over.
Nothing.
Then examined the tubing.
Electrical tape wrapped one joint.
Clare’s hands began shaking.
“I always thought she repaired it.”
“Did she?”
“I don’t know.”
Dominic carefully took the stethoscope.
“Can I?”
Clare nodded.
He peeled back the oldest strip of tape.
Something tiny dropped onto the table.
A microSD card.
Clare stopped breathing.
For six years, she had carried her mother’s evidence around her neck.
Dominic stared at the tiny card.
“Your mother was clever.”
Clare started crying.
Not dramatically.
No collapse.
No scream.
Just tears.
Dominic moved around the table.
He didn’t touch her immediately.
That mattered.
He waited.
Clare closed the distance herself.
His arms came around her.
Solid.
Careful.
Safe.
She pressed her forehead against his chest.
“I should have known.”
“No.”
“I wore it every day.”
“You were her daughter, Clare. Not her investigator.”
“She died because of this.”
“She died trying to stop it.”
Clare looked up.
Dominic’s face was inches away.
The world seemed to narrow.
Rain.
Dark library.
His hands against her back.
Her fingers gripping his shirt.
For one dangerous second, she thought he was going to kiss her.
She wasn’t sure she wanted him not to.
Then Nico entered.
“Bad timing?”
Clare stepped backward so quickly she hit the table.
Dominic closed his eyes.
“Nico.”
“Terrible timing. Understood.”
He held up his phone.
“But you need to see this.”
The microSD card contained names.
Lots of names.
Hospital administrators.
Politicians.
Police officers.
Businessmen.
Victor Romano’s name appeared too.
But beside it, Margaret had written one word.
ALLY.
Dominic stared at the screen.
Then Nico opened the final file.
A scanned payment ledger.
At the top was the name of the person approving every shipment.
Clare expected Weber.
Kathryn.
Maybe some unknown executive.
Instead, Dominic’s face emptied completely.
The signature belonged to Michael Romano.
His father.
The man Dominic had spent his entire adult life trying to honor.
The man whose murder had shaped everything he became.
Dominic sat down slowly.
“My father started it.”
Clare looked at the screen.
May you like
Then at him.
And she knew this revelation might destroy Dominic more completely than any bullet ever could.
