Chapter 3 - The Secret Behind the Restaurant
Vincent waited until Richard left before calling his head of security.
“Find out everything about Margaret Miller.”
“Grace's mother?”
“Yes. Start with her employment history, financial records, and anyone she contacted before she died.”
“Understood.”
“And find out why Richard has photographs of her.”
Vincent ended the call.
He remained at his desk for several minutes, staring at the picture.
Margaret Miller.
He remembered the name.
Not because he had known her personally, but because it appeared in an old investigative file connected to a fire at a warehouse in South Boston.
A fire that had killed two men.
A fire that had nearly destroyed his father's business.
And a fire that had been officially ruled accidental.
Vincent opened a locked cabinet.
Inside were several old folders.
He found the one marked MARTELL SHIPPING — INCIDENT 2008.
The first report described an electrical failure.
The second contained witness statements.
The third had been redacted.
But one name appeared repeatedly.
Anthony Roselli.
Vincent's jaw tightened.
Tony.
The owner of the restaurant.
At Roselli's, Grace was having a different kind of problem.
Jenna had called in sick.
Luis had received an anonymous letter accusing him of stealing restaurant supplies.
And Tony had just informed her that someone had requested copies of their old financial records.
“Who requested them?” Grace asked.
Tony shook his head.
“I don't know. The accountant said it was an attorney.”
“What attorney?”
“He didn't recognize the name.”
Grace placed her hands on her hips.
“Tony, why does everybody suddenly want to investigate this restaurant?”
He avoided her eyes.
“It's probably nothing.”
Grace narrowed her eyes.
“You're a terrible liar.”
Before he could answer, the front door opened.
Vincent walked inside.
Grace looked up.
“You again?”
“I need to speak with Tony.”
Tony went pale.
Grace noticed immediately.
“What is going on?”
Vincent glanced at her.
“Something involving your mother.”
Grace's expression hardened.
“My mother has been dead for five years.”
“I know.”
“Then what could you possibly want to discuss?”
Vincent placed the old photograph on the counter.
Grace recognized her mother instantly.
Her mother was standing outside Roselli's, wearing a red scarf and holding a folder against her chest.
Grace picked up the photograph.
“Where did you get this?”
“Richard Callaway.”
Her fingers tightened.
“Why does Richard have a picture of my mother?”
“That is what I'm trying to determine.”
Grace looked at Tony.
He was staring at the photograph as though he had seen a ghost.
“Tony?”
He swallowed.
“Grace, there's something I should have told you a long time ago.”
Vincent stepped closer.
“What happened in 2008?”
Tony looked at him.
For several seconds, neither man spoke.
Then Tony slowly sat down.
“Your father was a good man, Vincent.”
Grace's head turned sharply.
“What does my father have to do with this?”
Vincent's expression changed.
“My father?”
Tony nodded.
“Years ago, before this restaurant became what it is today, I worked in your father's warehouse. I was the bookkeeper.”
Grace stared at him.
“You never told me that.”
“Because I promised your mother I wouldn't.”
Vincent's voice became colder.
“Why?”
Tony looked down.
“Because someone was stealing money from the company. Not a little. Millions.”
“Who?”
“I never found out.”
Vincent shook his head.
“That's impossible. The investigation was closed.”
“Because the records disappeared.”
Tony paused.
“Your father believed one of his closest associates was involved. He asked me to help him identify the missing accounts.”
Vincent stepped closer.
“And the fire?”
Tony nodded slowly.
“The night the warehouse burned, your father was supposed to meet me there. But someone called him and changed the location.”
Grace felt her stomach tighten.
“What happened to him?”
Vincent looked away.
“My father died in a car accident three weeks later.”
Tony closed his eyes.
“Your mother knew.”
Vincent went completely still.
“My mother?”
“Eleanor knew the accident wasn't what it appeared to be.”
The restaurant seemed to shrink around them.
Vincent's father had died when Vincent was twenty-five. The official report stated that his car had lost control on an icy road.
Vincent had never questioned it.
Not until now.
“Why didn't anyone tell me?”
Tony looked at him sadly.
“Because your father left instructions. He wanted you out of the business.”
Vincent laughed without humor.
“He wanted me out of the business, so everyone lied to me?”
“He wanted you alive.”
Grace slowly placed the photograph on the counter.
“What does my mother have to do with any of this?”
Tony took a long breath.
“Margaret discovered something in the restaurant's old storage room. A box of financial records. She found payments made to shell companies connected to Richard Callaway.”
Vincent's eyes narrowed.
“Richard?”
Tony nodded.
“He wasn't working with your father. He was working against him.”
Grace felt dizzy.
“My mother knew Richard?”
“Not personally. But she collected evidence.”
“Where is it?”
Tony shook his head.
“She hid it.”
“Where?”
Tony looked toward the back hallway.
“Somewhere in this restaurant.”
Grace followed his gaze.
The old storage room.
The one that had been locked for years.
Vincent immediately moved toward it.
Tony stood.
“Wait.”
He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small brass key.
“Your mother gave me this before she died. She told me to hand it to you only if someone from the Martell family came asking questions.”
Grace stared at the key.
“Why didn't you give it to me?”
“Because I hoped you'd never need it.”
She took it.
Her hands were shaking.
Vincent looked at her.
“We should open it together.”
Grace gave him a cold look.
“You've had enough secrets involving my family.”
“I didn't know.”
“Neither did I.”
She walked toward the storage room.
The key turned with a loud metallic click.
Inside were old chairs, broken kitchen equipment, holiday decorations, and several boxes covered in dust.
Grace stepped inside.
Then she saw something on the far wall.
A small wooden cabinet.
Her mother's handwriting was visible on a yellow envelope taped to its front.
FOR GRACE. ONLY IF VINCENT MARTELL IS WITH YOU.
Grace stopped breathing.
She opened the envelope.
Inside was a handwritten note.
My darling girl, if you're reading this, the truth has finally caught up with us.
Below it was a second sentence.
Do not trust the man who tells you he loved your father.
Grace looked up.
Vincent stood behind her.
May you like
And the final line of the letter made his blood run cold.
His name is not Richard Callaway.
