Chapter 8 - THE ORANGE SODA
Vincent Caruso looked nothing like the monster Brielle had built in her memory.
Monsters were supposed to advertise themselves.
They were supposed to have cruel eyes and ugly smiles and something visibly wrong around the edges.
Vincent looked like a man who chaired hospital boards.
His white hair was perfectly combed.
His wool coat fit too well.
The silver ring on his hand was polished.
Only his eyes matched the past.
Brielle remembered them now.
Not clearly.
Enough.
"You brought the soda."
Vincent smiled.
"Orange for you."
"Grape for Mara."
Brielle felt nausea rise.
"You drugged me."
"I needed you asleep."
"Why?"
"Because Elena had become irrational."
Brielle took a step toward him.
"My mother was lying dead on the kitchen floor in the photograph you gave me."
"Choose the next word carefully."
Vincent's smile thinned.
"I didn't kill Elena."
"Then who did?"
"That's a much more useful question."
Sofia struggled against the ties.
"Let her go."
Vincent looked at the child.
"She was never the target."
"Then untie her."
"When you give me the key."
Brielle held up the brass key.
"This opens a train station locker."
"It opens more than that."
"What?"
Vincent's eyes moved to her coat.
"The envelope."
Brielle pulled out the photograph.
"Why show me this?"
"Because memory is unreliable."
"Evidence is better."
"You poisoned a sixteen-year-old girl and stole a nine-year-old child."
Vincent's face changed.
"I did not steal Mara."
"She disappeared while you were in our apartment."
"Yes."
"That sounds like stealing."
"Mara left with someone else."
Brielle stared at him.
"Who?"
Vincent looked toward the stairwell.
"We don't have time."
"Make time."
"Dante will find this place soon."
"Good."
"You think so?"
Vincent stepped closer.
"Ask yourself why Mara warned you about him."
"Ask yourself why Celeste died after investigating his family's foundation."
"Ask yourself why Rosa knew there was no body in your sister's grave and still watched you bury ashes."
Brielle wanted to hit him.
She wanted the satisfaction of seeing the silver ring disappear beneath blood.
Instead, she looked at Sofia.
The child watched her with terrified trust.
Brielle forced herself to stay still.
"Give me the truth and I'll give you the key."
Vincent laughed softly.
"Your mother tried that negotiation."
"Did it work?"
"No."
"Maybe I'm better at it."
He studied her.
"You are."
"Then start with Mara."
Vincent walked toward the clock face.
"Bellweather began as a real protection program."
"People with money paid to move endangered families into new identities."
"The Morettis provided cash."
"Judges provided sealed orders."
"Police provided relocation."
"Hospitals altered records when necessary."
"It was messy, illegal, and sometimes the only reason a witness lived long enough to testify."
Brielle listened without trusting a word.
"Then somebody realized a protected identity was valuable."
Vincent continued.
"A new birth certificate could create a new person."
"A new social security number could hide money."
"A foster placement could move a child beyond ordinary oversight."
"An address could be sold to an abusive husband."
"A witness could vanish before court."
Brielle's stomach turned.
"Inventory."
Vincent nodded.
"That was Elena's word too."
"Who was selling them?"
"People above my pay grade at the time."
"Names."
"Not yet."
"Then we're done."
Brielle turned toward Sofia.
Vincent raised a pistol.
"No."
Brielle stopped.
"There it is."
"What?"
"The part where the polite man becomes exactly what he is."
Vincent's mouth twitched.
"Your mother had that mouth."
"She hated you too?"
"Eventually."
Brielle looked at the gun.
"Why did she have the ledger?"
"Because she copied it."
"The original remained with Bellweather."
"Elena made a duplicate because she realized people were being sold."
"She planned to give it to Enzo Moretti."
"Why him?"
"Because Enzo was dangerous enough to frighten the other people involved."
"And corrupt enough to understand them."
Brielle glanced toward the stairwell.
No sound.
"Did Enzo help her?"
"He tried."
That answer surprised her.
Vincent saw it.
"Good men and bad men are stories for children."
"Adults are usually both."
"Enzo had blood on his hands."
"He also became horrified by what Bellweather turned into."
"He ordered it shut down."
"Some people had become too rich to obey."
"You?"
Vincent smiled.
"Eventually."
"But not then?"
"Not then."
Brielle thought of the photograph.
"Why were you in our apartment?"
Vincent's expression cooled.
"To collect the copy."
"I believed Elena would give it to me."
"Why would she?"
"Because I told her Enzo sent me."
Brielle felt a memory snap into place.
Her mother opening the door.
Vincent saying Mr. Moretti asked me to come.
Elena letting him inside.
Then later her mother shouting that he was lying.
"She figured it out."
"Yes."
"Then what happened?"
Vincent looked at the gears above them.
"Another man arrived."
"Who?"
"Give me the key."
"No."
"Then Sofia stays in the chair."
Brielle looked at the child.
Sofia's face was wet with silent tears.
"I'm sorry."
Sofia shook her head quickly.
"Daddy will come."
Vincent laughed.
"There is the Moretti faith."
A red dot appeared on Vincent's coat.
Brielle saw it.
So did he.
Vincent grabbed Sofia and pulled the child against him.
The window behind him shattered.
A bullet struck the gear assembly.
Metal screamed.
Brielle dove behind a support column.
Vincent fired toward the broken clock face.
Sofia screamed.
"Dante."
Gunfire erupted from the stairwell.
The Cubs cap man fell into the chamber.
Luca appeared behind him.
"Brielle, down."
Dante came through the doorway a second later.
His eyes found Sofia in Vincent's grip.
Everything stopped.
Vincent pressed the pistol against the child's side.
"Put it down, Dante."
Dante lowered his weapon immediately.
Brielle had expected hesitation.
There was none.
"Let her go."
"The key."
Dante looked at Brielle.
She held it up.
Vincent extended his hand.
"Slide it."
Brielle crouched and slid the brass key across the floor.
It stopped two feet from him.
Vincent stared at it.
Then he laughed.
"You still don't understand."
"Understand what?"
"That isn't the key Elena meant."
Brielle's heart sank.
Vincent kicked the brass key away.
"Mara made that for you."
"A sentimental breadcrumb."
"The real key has been with you for eleven years."
Brielle looked at Dante.
"My apartment was destroyed."
Vincent nodded.
"And they still didn't find it."
"Who are they?"
"The people I no longer control."
That was the first thing he said that sounded like fear.
Dante noticed too.
"You're not running this."
Vincent's eyes shifted toward him.
"Not anymore."
A gunshot exploded from above.
Vincent jerked.
Blood appeared at his shoulder.
He released Sofia.
Dante crossed the room before the child hit the floor.
He caught her and rolled behind the gear housing.
Luca fired toward the rafters.
Brielle saw a shadow move above them.
A second shooter.
Not Dante's.
Not Vincent's men either.
Vincent staggered toward the broken clock face.
Brielle grabbed Sofia's chair and shoved it sideways as bullets struck the floor.
Dante covered Sofia with his body.
"Luca, roof."
Luca disappeared through the maintenance stair.
Vincent tried to run.
Brielle caught his coat.
He spun and raised the pistol.
She drove her injured hand into his wounded shoulder.
He screamed.
The gun fell.
Brielle kicked it away.
"Who killed my mother?"
Vincent stared at her with pain and fury.
"A man who still sits at Rosa Moretti's dinner table."
Brielle went cold.
"Who?"
Vincent smiled through blood.
Then the clock tower lights died.
Darkness swallowed the chamber.
Someone struck Brielle from behind.
She fell.
When emergency lights flickered on seconds later, Vincent was gone.
So was the brass key.
Dante held Sofia against his chest.
The child was alive.
Brielle pushed herself up.
A figure stood on the opposite stairwell landing.
Red coat.
Gray-green eyes.
Mara.
Brielle forgot the pain.
"Mara."
Her sister stared at her across eleven stolen years.
Then Mara raised a pistol.
May you like
She aimed it directly at Dante.
