Chapter 4 - The Thirty-Seven-Thousand-Dollar Lie
Lark had never been arrested before.
She discovered quickly that fear had a sound.
It was the metallic click of handcuffs closing around your wrists while people who had once eaten lunch beside you watched.
“Don't touch her.”
Nero's voice stopped the detective.
“Mr. Marquetti—”
“You said she needs to answer questions. You didn't say she's under arrest.”
The detective hesitated.
He was older, tired-looking, and clearly aware that picking a legal fight with Nero Marquetti would turn his morning into a nightmare.
“She's not under arrest yet.”
“Then remove the cuffs.”
Crane interrupted.
“She stole thirty-seven thousand dollars.”
Nero slowly turned.
“Did I ask you?”
Crane went quiet.
The cuffs came off.
Lark rubbed her wrists.
She hated that her eyes burned.
She hated more that Nero noticed.
At the station, Lark told the truth.
She had been home with Auntie Bee at 2:13 a.m.
A neighbor had seen her.
Her phone's location history supported it.
But someone had used her badge.
Someone wearing a dark coat and baseball cap had entered the accounting room.
The camera never showed the person's face.
Four hours later, Lark was released pending investigation.
Nero was waiting outside.
She walked past him.
“Lark.”
She kept walking.
He caught up.
“Get in the car.”
“No.”
“It's raining.”
“I've survived rain.”
“You think I believe you stole that money?”
She stopped.
“You hesitated.”
“I was looking at evidence.”
“You were looking at me.”
“Because somebody constructed evidence specifically to implicate you.”
She stared at him.
That distinction mattered.
“Then why?”
“Why what?”
“Why frame me?”
Nero's answer came immediately.
“Because we're close.”
“To what?”
“I don't know.”
He opened the passenger door.
This time she got in.
At Auntie Bee's house, the front door was open.
Lark froze.
“Auntie?”
Nero caught her arm.
“Stay behind me.”
She almost argued.
Then she saw the broken lock.
Nero drew a handgun from beneath his coat.
The sight startled her.
Until that moment, she had almost managed to forget who he was.
Nero entered first.
The living room had been destroyed.
Cushions cut open.
Drawers dumped.
Cabinets emptied.
“Auntie Bee!”
“Kitchen!”
Lark ran.
Her aunt was sitting at the table holding a rolling pin.
Two police officers stood beside her.
“I'm fine,” Bee said.
Lark hugged her.
“What happened?”
“I came home and found the door like this.”
“Did they take anything?”
“That's the strange part.”
Nothing valuable was missing.
Television remained.
Jewelry remained.
Cash remained.
Nero walked slowly through the kitchen.
“They were searching.”
“For what?” Lark asked.
He looked at her.
“Something they think you have.”
Lark suddenly remembered her plastic bag from the day Crane fired her.
Spare shoes.
Thermos.
Textbook.
Auntie Bee's note.
And—
She stopped breathing.
“What?”
“My textbook.”
“What about it?”
“Something fell into it.”
“When?”
“The day Gio—when you collapsed.”
Nero's expression sharpened.
Lark hurried toward her bedroom.
Her hospitality textbook lay beneath the bed where she'd dropped it.
She flipped through the pages.
Nothing.
Then she shook it.
A tiny black object fell onto the comforter.
Nero picked it up.
A microSD card.
They stared at each other.
“Where did that come from?”
“I don't know.”
Nero turned it over.
“I might.”
The day he entered the Meridian disguised as Gio, Nero had deliberately carried a miniature camera.
It recorded interactions with employees.
But shortly before collapsing, he had witnessed Crane meeting Dana Talbot beside a service elevator.
Crane handed her a flash drive.
Nero had followed.
Then someone struck him from behind.
He remembered falling.
He remembered pulling a small memory card from his hidden camera.
After that—
Lark.
Her textbook had been on the floor beside them when she wrapped him in her apron.
He must have hidden the card instinctively before losing consciousness.
“We need a computer that isn't connected to the Meridian network,” Nero said.
Auntie Bee pushed her laptop across the table.
“My solitaire machine finally has a purpose.”
The card contained video.
Nero opened the final recording.
Crane appeared.
Dana Talbot beside him.
Their voices were faint but understandable.
“We move everything Friday,” Dana said.
“What about Marquetti?”
“He doesn't know.”
“He's suspicious.”
“Then give him someone else to suspect.”
Crane handed her something.
A ledger.
Then another man entered frame.
Nero went completely still.
Lark noticed.
“Who is that?”
Nero didn't answer.
The man was around sixty, silver-haired, wearing an immaculate suit.
He spoke quietly.
“You've both become careless.”
Crane lowered his head.
Dana looked nervous.
The older man continued.
“Nero believes his greatest threat is outside the family.”
Nero's jaw tightened.
Lark looked between him and the screen.
“You know him.”
“Yes.”
“Who is he?”
For several seconds, Nero said nothing.
Then:
“Salvatore Marquetti.”
Lark waited.
Nero's eyes never left the screen.
“My uncle.”
The recording continued.
Salvatore opened the ledger.
“We have three weeks before Nero discovers the trust accounts.”
Crane asked, “And if he does?”
Salvatore smiled.
“Then my nephew won't remain owner long enough for it to matter.”
The video ended.
Auntie Bee whispered, “Lord.”
Lark looked at Nero.
He had spent weeks searching for corruption among employees.
The real enemy shared his blood.
Nero removed the memory card.
“We can't give this to anyone yet.”
“Why not?”
“Because if Salvatore controls people inside the Meridian, I don't know how far his reach goes.”
“You mean police?”
“Possibly.”
“Executives?”
“Yes.”
“Security?”
“Yes.”
Lark folded her arms.
“Then who do you trust?”
Nero looked at Dominic.
Then Auntie Bee.
Finally, Lark.
“Very few people.”
Auntie Bee stood.
“Well, you're all staying for dinner.”
Nero blinked.
“Excuse me?”
“Somebody broke into my house. Apparently the mafia is involved. I am stressed, and I cook when I'm stressed.”
“Auntie—”
“No arguments.”
Nero Marquetti, feared across half of Las Vegas, looked genuinely uncertain.
Lark almost laughed.
Then Nero's phone rang.
Dominic's name appeared.
Nero answered.
His expression changed.
“When?”
He listened.
“Lock the building down.”
Lark's smile disappeared.
“What happened?”
Nero lowered the phone.
“Dana Talbot is dead.”
Lark stared.
“How?”
“She fell from the Meridian parking garage.”
A cold silence filled the kitchen.
May you like
Then Nero added the part that changed everything.
“Security footage shows you entering the garage twelve minutes before she died.”
