Chapter 7 - The Dead Woman's Last Witness
Dominic had attended his mother's funeral.
He had carried her coffin.
He had watched the earth fall over the grave.
Now Detective Ellis was telling him Margaret Vale had been photographed alive three months later.
"Send me the picture," he said.
Ellis hesitated.
"It's evidence."
"Then describe it."
"An older woman standing outside a medical clinic. Dark coat. Gray scarf. Her face is clearly visible."
Dominic closed his eyes.
His mother had owned a gray cashmere scarf.
He had bought it for her forty-ninth birthday.
She wore it almost every winter.
"Could it be altered?"
"We're having it examined."
Claire reached for his hand.
He let her.
For a man who controlled entire shipping routes, Dominic suddenly felt powerless.
"Was there a date on the photograph?"
"Yes."
"Anything else?"
Ellis paused.
"Someone wrote a message on the back."
"What message?"
SHE KEPT HER PROMISE. NOW KEEP YOURS.
Dominic looked at Claire.
Neither spoke.
That evening, Evelyn brought the first forensic report.
The photograph appeared to have been printed years earlier, but its date and the identity of the woman could not yet be verified.
No proof that Margaret was alive.
No proof that she wasn't.
Dominic hated uncertainty.
Claire sat beside him at the kitchen table.
"Tell me about her."
He looked up.
"My mother?"
"Yes."
Dominic considered the question.
"She liked old movies. Hated expensive jewelry. Always kept flowers in the kitchen."
Claire smiled faintly.
"Sounds familiar."
"She also had a terrible habit of rescuing people my father wanted punished."
Claire looked at the letter.
"Maybe that's why she helped mine."
Dominic nodded.
"Maybe."
For several minutes, they sat quietly.
Then Claire said, "I need to tell you something."
Dominic turned.
"The night I applied for the secretary position, I already knew your name."
"I assumed that."
"I had a file about your family. My mother collected newspaper articles, shipping records, court documents."
"Why didn't you confront me?"
"Because you weren't what I expected."
He waited.
"I thought you'd be cruel."
Dominic gave a faint smile.
"Some people would say you were right."
"No."
Claire shook her head.
"I've seen you angry. I've seen you ruthless. But I've also seen you stay overnight at the hospital because a dockworker's son needed surgery."
Dominic looked away.
"That doesn't erase the other things."
"I know."
She moved closer.
"I'm not asking you to be innocent."
"Then what are you asking?"
"To be better than the man your father wanted you to become."
The words settled between them.
Dominic reached for her hand.
This time, he did it deliberately.
"Claire, there's something you need to understand."
She waited.
"I've spent four years finding reasons not to tell you how I feel."
Her breath caught.
"Dominic—"
"I thought distance would protect you."
He looked at the bruise on her wrist.
"I was wrong."
Claire's eyes filled.
"How do you feel?"
He swallowed.
"I love you."
The confession was quiet.
Almost painfully simple.
Claire stared at him.
Then she began to cry.
Dominic immediately looked alarmed.
"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have—"
She laughed through her tears.
"You're terrible at this."
He blinked.
"At what?"
"Letting someone love you back."
Then she kissed him.
It was brief.
Gentle.
And for the first time in years, Dominic forgot the city waiting outside.
When they separated, Claire rested her forehead against his.
"I love you too."
A phone rang.
Neither moved.
It rang again.
Dominic reluctantly answered.
Miles.
"Boss, we've got a problem."
Dominic closed his eyes.
"What now?"
"Silas Harrow's dead."
Dominic straightened.
"How?"
"Found in his private office. Single gunshot wound."
Claire stepped back.
Miles continued.
"And the police found a handwritten note beside him."
"What did it say?"
Miles hesitated.
"Dominic, you're not going to like this."
"Read it."
Miles exhaled.
DANIEL BENNETT WAS NEVER THE TRAITOR. RICHARD VALE WASN'T EITHER. ASK MILES WHAT HAPPENED THE NIGHT NORTHSTAR BURNED.
Dominic slowly turned toward the phone.
"Miles."
Silence.
"Where are you?"
Another pause.
May you like
Then Miles whispered, "Boss, there's something I've been trying to tell you for eleven years."
The call ended.
