Chapter 3 - The Man Who Was Supposed to Die
Nora stared at the photograph until the faces blurred.
“That isn't possible.”
Vincent said nothing.
“My brother died seven months before you were shot.”
“I know.”
“Then how could he have been driving your car?”
“He wasn't.”
Nora looked up sharply.
Vincent's jaw tightened.
“The message isn't describing what happened. It's describing what someone intended.”
He turned the photograph over.
A date had been stamped on the back.
November 14.
The same date written on the anonymous photograph Nora had received after Samuel's funeral.
Vincent pulled another document from the folder.
“Samuel was a structural safety inspector on the Harbor Point redevelopment project. He discovered that materials were being moved through restricted service tunnels after midnight.”
“What materials?”
“I never found out.”
“You expect me to believe that?”
“No.”
His answer surprised her.
Vincent moved toward the window.
“Samuel came to me because he believed someone inside my company was using our properties for something illegal.”
Nora's hands curled into fists.
“And what did you do?”
“I told him to give his evidence to Dominic.”
The words landed between them.
“Dominic?”
“He handled security and internal investigations.”
Nora remembered the conversation outside the kitchen.
She doesn't know.
“What happened next?”
“Samuel disappeared for two days. When he resurfaced, he was in the hospital.”
Nora's voice cracked.
“He had a crushed vertebra and internal bleeding.”
“I know.”
“He told the police he'd fallen.”
“I know that too.”
“Did you tell him to lie?”
Vincent turned toward her.
“No.”
“Did you threaten him?”
“No.”
“Did you even visit him?”
Silence.
Nora felt something cold settle inside her.
“You didn't.”
Vincent looked away.
“I sent money.”
She laughed once.
It was an ugly, wounded sound.
“You sent money.”
“He refused it.”
“He thought it was a payoff.”
Vincent closed his eyes.
“I understand that now.”
“No. You don't.”
She stepped toward him.
“My brother couldn't sleep because he was in pain. He couldn't work. He lost his apartment. He kept telling me somebody was watching our building.”
Vincent's face drained of color.
“Did he say who?”
“He said a man came to the hospital and warned him to stop talking.”
“Describe him.”
“Tall. Dark hair. A scar near his left eyebrow.”
Vincent gripped his armrest.
“Dominic has a scar above his eyebrow.”
Nora stared at him.
For the first time, she noticed the photograph on Vincent's desk.
Vincent and Dominic.
Standing beside Samuel.
All three smiling.
“Why didn't you tell the police?” she whispered.
“Because Samuel refused to identify anyone. And because the records I was given said he'd fallen from scaffolding.”
“You could have investigated.”
“I should have.”
His admission was quiet.
It did not excuse anything.
Nora turned toward the door.
“I'm leaving.”
Vincent didn't stop her.
She reached the threshold.
Then he said, “The night I was shot, someone used Samuel's employee identification to access the parking garage.”
Nora stopped.
“That card should have been destroyed after his death.”
“It wasn't.”
She looked back.
Vincent held up a printed security log.
ACCESS GRANTED — S. HAYES
“Someone wanted me to believe your brother had been involved.”
Nora felt sick.
“Why?”
“I don't know.”
“Then why are you showing me this?”
Vincent looked at her.
“Because if someone framed a dead man for my attempted murder, I owe him more than an apology.”
Nora barely slept.
At three in the morning, she sat on her bed in the servants' wing, replaying Samuel's final days.
She remembered his hands trembling as he tried to drink water.
The bruises around his wrists.
The way he flinched whenever someone knocked.
And one sentence he'd whispered during his last week.
Don't trust the man who brings the flowers.
At the time, she thought he meant a hospital volunteer.
Now she wasn't sure.
Her phone vibrated.
Unknown number.
A photograph appeared.
Samuel lay in a hospital bed.
Beside him stood Dominic Reed.
Holding white lilies.
Nora covered her mouth.
The next message arrived immediately.
HE DIDN'T FALL.
Then another.
ASK DOMINIC ABOUT THE ELEVATOR.
The following morning, Nora found Dominic in the breakfast room.
He was pouring coffee.
“Good morning,” he said pleasantly.
Nora studied his face.
The scar above his eyebrow.
The careful smile.
The calm hands.
“Did you know Samuel Hayes?”
Dominic's coffee stopped halfway into his cup.
“Who?”
“My brother.”
A moment passed.
Then Dominic set down the pot.
“I knew of him.”
“Did you visit him in the hospital?”
“No.”
Nora took out her phone.
She showed him the photograph.
Dominic stared.
Something flickered across his face.
Then vanished.
“Where did you get that?”
“So you did visit.”
“He was an employee. I was checking on him.”
“With flowers?”
“He was injured.”
“Why did you lie?”
Dominic's expression hardened.
“Be careful, Nora.”
The warning was almost identical to Vincent's.
But coming from Dominic, it carried something else.
A promise.
Behind them, Vincent entered in his wheelchair.
“What's going on?”
Dominic turned.
“Your housekeeper is asking questions she doesn't understand.”
Vincent looked at Nora.
Then at the photograph.
His face changed.
“Dominic,” he said slowly, “why are you holding Samuel's hospital visitor badge?”
Dominic looked down.
A plastic identification card had slipped from the folder beneath his newspaper.
Nora could see Samuel's name.
Dominic reached for it.
Vincent's voice hardened.
“Don't.”
For the first time in their twenty-year friendship, Dominic Reed did not obey him.
May you like
Instead, he pulled a pistol from beneath his jacket.
And pointed it directly at Nora.
