Chapter 5 - Somebody Wanted Lark Gone
By midnight, Lark Hennessy had been framed for theft and placed near the scene of a suspicious death.
By 12:15, Nero had moved her and Auntie Bee into his private residence.
Lark hated every second of it.
“I am not hiding.”
“You are if somebody wants you dead.”
“You don't know that.”
Nero stopped walking.
“Someone stole your badge, planted evidence, searched your home, and manufactured video placing you beside a dead woman.”
“When you summarize it like that, it sounds bad.”
“It is bad.”
His penthouse occupied two floors above the casino.
Lark expected gold furniture and ridiculous statues.
Instead, it was almost austere.
Dark wood.
Books.
Black stone.
A piano.
Very little that looked personal.
Auntie Bee inspected the kitchen.
“This refrigerator is depressing.”
Nero stared.
“It has food.”
“It has ingredients. That's not the same thing.”
She began opening cabinets.
Nero looked at Lark.
“Does she always do this?”
“Yes.”
“Good to know.”
Dominic arrived with the garage footage.
Lark watched herself walk toward Dana.
Except it wasn't her.
Same height.
Same build.
Same coat.
Same hairstyle.
The person's face remained turned away.
“That's deliberate,” Lark said.
Nero nodded.
“They studied you.”
A second camera showed Dana entering the stairwell.
Nobody visibly followed.
Three minutes later, she fell.
Police were treating the death as suspicious but had not issued an arrest warrant.
Yet.
Nero froze the video.
“What was Dana afraid of?”
“Getting caught?”
“No. She had already agreed to cooperate.”
Lark looked at him.
“When?”
“This afternoon. Dominic contacted her privately after you were released.”
“And now she's dead.”
“Yes.”
Lark's stomach tightened.
“Who knew she was cooperating?”
“Dominic. Me.”
“And?”
Nero hesitated.
“My attorney.”
“Name?”
“Julian Cross.”
Something about the name bothered her.
“Was he in the footage with Salvatore?”
“No.”
“Then why did you hesitate?”
Nero walked toward the window.
“Julian has represented my family for twenty-two years.”
“That wasn't my question.”
“He was my father's closest friend.”
Lark understood.
“You don't want it to be him.”
“No.”
“But you think it could be.”
Nero said nothing.
The next morning, Lark woke to voices downstairs.
Salvatore Marquetti had arrived.
He was elegant.
Calm.
Warm enough to be convincing.
He hugged Nero.
Then turned toward Lark.
“So this is Ms. Hennessy.”
She didn't like the way he said her name.
“You've heard about me?”
“My nephew has become unusually protective.”
Nero's eyes hardened.
“Careful.”
Salvatore smiled.
“I'm complimenting her.”
“No, you're measuring her.”
The room chilled.
Salvatore looked amused.
“Still suspicious of everyone.”
“Usually keeps me alive.”
“Your father used to say that.”
Nero's expression changed almost imperceptibly.
Lark noticed.
Salvatore noticed her noticing.
Interesting.
He approached.
“I understand you've had a difficult few days.”
“You could say that.”
“I'd like to help.”
“I already have help.”
“Everyone needs options.”
He handed her a business card.
Nero took it before she could.
“She doesn't need yours.”
Salvatore laughed.
“Possessive already?”
Lark immediately stepped between them.
“I'm standing right here.”
Both men looked at her.
“I don't belong to either of you.”
Salvatore's smile widened.
“I like her.”
“I don't care,” Nero said.
After Salvatore left, Lark confronted him.
“What happened to your father?”
Nero's shoulders went rigid.
“Why?”
“Because Salvatore mentioned him and you looked like somebody punched you.”
“My father died.”
“I figured that part out.”
Nero stared through the windows.
“Car accident. Twelve years ago.”
“Was Salvatore there?”
“No.”
“Did Julian investigate?”
That got his attention.
“Why would you ask that?”
“Because we're investigating people around you. And every time your father comes up, those two names seem nearby.”
Nero looked at her for a long moment.
Then went to a locked cabinet.
He removed an old file.
The official accident report.
Lark read it.
Brake failure.
Mountain road.
Vehicle fire.
Nero had been twenty-four.
His father, Alessandro Marquetti, died instantly.
But one page bothered her.
“Who signed the insurance release?”
“Julian.”
“And who became temporary trustee of the Meridian?”
Nero already knew.
“Salvatore.”
Lark looked up.
“How long?”
“Eleven months. Until I took control.”
“And afterward?”
“I removed him from operations.”
“Why?”
“Money was missing.”
Silence.
Lark's skin prickled.
“Nero.”
He understood.
Maybe the current theft wasn't new.
Maybe it had simply restarted.
They spent the afternoon examining archived records.
At 4:20, Lark found a recurring company.
Bellweather Hospitality Consulting.
It had received millions in management fees during Salvatore's temporary control.
Payments stopped when Nero took over.
Then restarted eighteen months ago.
The exact period employees began reporting missing money.
“Who authorized them?” Lark asked.
Nero opened the digital signature.
His face hardened.
It was his.
Except he had never signed it.
Someone had duplicated his authorization.
Dominic rushed into the room.
“You need to see this.”
He handed Nero a phone.
An anonymous account had posted security footage of Lark helping “Gio” into the Meridian.
The caption claimed Lark and Nero had staged the entire homeless incident together to manufacture publicity and justify firing employees.
Comments were exploding.
Then another post appeared.
Photographs of Lark entering Nero's residence.
A headline followed.
CASINO OWNER'S SECRET MISTRESS GIVEN EXECUTIVE JOB DAYS AFTER FIRING.
Lark stared at the screen.
“My aunt is going to kill somebody.”
Nero barely reacted.
“This is designed to discredit you.”
“It's working.”
Her phone vibrated continuously.
Former coworkers.
Reporters.
Unknown numbers.
Then a text appeared.
No sender.
Only a photograph.
Auntie Bee standing outside a grocery store.
Taken minutes earlier.
Below it:
Stop digging, or next time she doesn't make it home.
Lark stopped breathing.
Nero read it over her shoulder.
His expression became terrifyingly calm.
“Dominic.”
“Yes?”
“Find Bee.”
Lark grabbed her coat.
“I'm coming.”
“No.”
“Try stopping me.”
Their eyes met.
Nero didn't waste time arguing.
Twenty-three minutes later, they found Auntie Bee sitting calmly inside the grocery store café.
Two armed men were watching her from separate tables.
Nero's security.
Lark ran to her.
Bee looked confused.
“What happened?”
Lark hugged her.
Over Bee's shoulder, Nero saw a man near the exit turn away.
“Dominic.”
Dominic moved.
The stranger ran.
Nero followed.
They chased him through the parking garage.
The man reached a motorcycle.
Dominic tackled him before he could start it.
Nero ripped off his helmet.
Lark arrived seconds later.
The man's face was bloody.
She recognized him.
He had worked security at the Meridian.
Nero crouched.
“Who paid you?”
The man laughed.
“You're already dead, Marquetti.”
Nero grabbed his jacket.
“Who?”
The man's smile vanished.
“Ask your lawyer.”
Then a suppressed gunshot cracked through the garage.
The man jerked.
Blood spread across his shirt.
Lark screamed.
Nero threw her behind a concrete pillar as a second bullet shattered the windshield beside them.
“Stay down!”
Dominic drew his weapon.
People scattered.
The shooter disappeared.
When silence returned, Nero looked at the dying man.
The guard's lips moved.
Nero leaned closer.
Three words escaped.
May you like
“Your father knew.”
Then he died.
