Chapter 5 - Victor’s Secret
Alessandro read the sentence twice.
Then a third time.
Victor had served him for seventeen years.
He had taught Alessandro how to drive, how to negotiate, how to recognize surveillance, and—according to Alessandro—how to survive his father.
Now my father's handwriting accused Victor of hiding what happened to Alessandro’s mother.
“We don't call him,” Alessandro said.
Rosa stood behind the counter clutching her robe closed.
“What are you going to do?”
“Find out what the key opens.”
I studied it.
A number was engraved along the shaft.
317.
“Locker?” I suggested.
Alessandro nodded.
“Train station. Bus terminal. Bank.”
Rosa suddenly spoke.
“Union Station.”
We turned.
She shrugged.
“Those old brass locker keys? My first husband used one. Before everything became electronic.”
At two in the morning, Alessandro somehow got us inside an archived section of Union Station that normal people couldn't access.
Locker 317 still existed.
The key turned.
Inside was a metal box.
Alessandro opened it.
Cassette tapes.
Documents.
A small revolver wrapped in cloth.
And another photograph.
This one showed Salvatore Romano shaking hands with Carlo DeSantis.
The dead man.
Behind them stood Victor.
Younger.
Watching.
A cassette was labeled:
IF SALVATORE FINDS ME
Alessandro found an old player through one of his men.
My father's voice emerged beneath static.
I had forgotten it.
That realization broke something inside me.
“Evelyn, if you're hearing this, I couldn't come home.”
I covered my mouth.
Alessandro stood beside me.
“I didn't betray Salvatore Romano. Salvatore betrayed his own wife.”
Alessandro stopped breathing.
“Mrs. Romano discovered Salvatore was laundering money through Meridian Logistics with Carlo DeSantis and Senator William Cross. She planned to take Alessandro and leave.”
The tape crackled.
“The crash was arranged.”
Alessandro's hand tightened into a fist.
“But Elena survived. Victor and I pulled her from the wreck before Salvatore’s men arrived.”
Alessandro looked toward Victor's photograph.
“We hid her.”
The tape clicked.
Then my father said the sentence that changed everything.
“Victor Russo saved Elena Romano’s life.”
Alessandro sank into a chair.
Victor hadn't betrayed him.
Victor had protected his mother.
“Where?” Alessandro whispered.
The recording continued.
“Salvatore found out she survived. We moved her again. Victor stayed behind to protect Alessandro. I took Elena north.”
My heart began pounding.
My father had disappeared with Alessandro's mother.
Not as lovers.
As fugitives.
The tape ended with coordinates and one warning.
Never trust Carlo. Never trust Cross. And if Salvatore dies, don't assume his secrets died with him.
Senator William Cross was still alive.
More importantly, he was preparing to announce a presidential campaign.
Suddenly, Carlo’s death made sense.
Someone was cleaning up old evidence.
Alessandro called Victor.
“Come alone.”
Victor arrived twenty-seven minutes later.
He saw the tapes.
Then closed his eyes.
“You knew,” Alessandro said.
“Yes.”
“My mother survived.”
“Yes.”
“For how long?”
Victor looked older than I had ever seen him.
“Six years.”
Alessandro struck him.
One punch.
Victor stumbled but didn't defend himself.
I stepped between them.
“Enough.”
Alessandro’s breathing was ragged.
“You let me bury her.”
“I let a nineteen-year-old boy believe something that kept him alive.”
“She was my mother!”
“And your father would have killed you to find her.”
Silence.
Victor's eyes filled.
“I promised Elena I would protect you.”
Alessandro turned away.
“Where did Daniel take her?”
“Maine.”
“Did my father go with her?”
Victor looked at me.
“For six years.”
Hope rose so quickly it hurt.
“Then?”
“Daniel contacted me in 2006.”
My hands trembled.
“He said Elena had died from complications caused by injuries from the crash.”
“And my father?”
“Disappeared again.”
“Why?”
“I don't know.”
A gunshot shattered the diner window.
Alessandro hit the floor and pulled me down with him.
Victor drew his weapon.
Another bullet struck the counter.
Rosa screamed from the kitchen.
Alessandro covered my body with his.
Victor fired toward the street.
Tires screamed.
Then silence.
Alessandro lifted his head.
“Claire?”
“I'm okay.”
Blood was running down his cheek from shattered glass.
“You're bleeding.”
“Not mine.”
It was.
I touched his face.
For one suspended second, the mystery disappeared.
His eyes met mine.
Something passed between us that had nothing to do with fear.
Then Victor shouted.
“Boss.”
We separated.
A brick had come through the window.
Something was tied around it.
A photograph.
My mother leaving Mercy General years earlier.
Written across her face in red ink were six words:
Daniel Bennett should have stayed dead.
I stared at the message.
Stayed dead.
Not disappeared.
Dead.
Alessandro read it.
Then looked at Victor.
“If Daniel died, someone knows how.”
Victor nodded.
“And they think Claire can lead us to the evidence.”
I looked at the photograph.
Then at the broken window.
“No.”
Alessandro frowned.
“No what?”
“They don't think I can lead them to it.”
I turned the photograph over.
There was another message.
ASK EVELYN ABOUT BLACKWATER.
May you like
My heart stopped.
“They think my mother can.”
