Chapter 6 - THE GODFATHER WHO KNEW TOO MUCH
Daniel smiled.
It was the wrong response.
Too fast.
Too smooth.
“Then Marco.”
Marco, standing near the far door, said:
“No.”
Daniel looked between them.
“Fine.”
He set down his glass.
“One of the guards.”
Vincent leaned back.
“Which one?”
“I don’t remember.”
“That’s unfortunate.”
Daniel’s expression hardened.
“Vince.”
“Yes?”
“What is this?”
“A question.”
“No.”
Daniel looked toward Claire.
Then Margaret.
“This is an ambush.”
Vincent almost smiled.
“You’ve attended actual ambushes.”
“Not at dinner.”
“Table manners matter.”
Claire would have laughed on another night.
Daniel did not.
He pushed back his chair.
“I’m leaving.”
Vincent’s voice remained calm.
“No.”
Daniel stopped.
One word.
Old authority.
The room changed around it.
Vincent continued.
“You asked where the barrette was.”
“Yes.”
“You knew it came from a thrift shop.”
“Yes.”
“Nobody here told you.”
Daniel stared.
Then:
“Thomas did.”
Silence.
Vincent stood slowly.
“When?”
“Two months ago.”
Claire stopped breathing.
Daniel continued.
“He called.”
“Why?”
“Money.”
“Of course.”
“What did he say?”
“That he had something from Grace.”
Vincent’s jaw tightened.
“And?”
“He wanted fifty thousand.”
“For what?”
“He wouldn’t say over the phone.”
“Did you meet?”
Daniel hesitated.
“Yes.”
There.
“Where?”
“A bar in White Plains.”
“When?”
“Eight weeks ago.”
“Before Claire bought the clip?”
Daniel looked toward her.
“I don’t know exactly when she bought it.”
“Answer.”
“Probably before.”
Vincent’s voice cooled.
“What did Thomas show you?”
“Nothing.”
“He said he had something.”
“What?”
“He wouldn’t say.”
“And you paid?”
“No.”
“Why?”
“Because I thought he was exploiting Grace.”
Vincent laughed without warmth.
“You knew he signed out her belongings?”
Daniel looked surprised.
“No.”
Claire watched him carefully.
Maybe true.
Vincent continued.
“Did you tell him you were looking for the butterfly?”
Daniel’s face changed.
Tiny.
Enough.
Vincent saw it.
“Daniel.”
“I asked about it.”
“Why?”
“Because you spent months asking.”
“Three years ago.”
“Yes.”
Daniel stood.
“You were destroying yourself over every missing detail.”
“I wanted to find something that would give you closure.”
Vincent’s eyes turned dead.
“Do not use that word.”
Daniel stopped.
Everyone in the house knew.
Vincent hated closure.
There was no closing Grace.
No closing Emily.
Daniel exhaled.
“Fine.”
“I remembered the clip.”
“I wondered if Thomas had it.”
“Why would you wonder that if you believed the hospital lost it?”
Daniel stared.
Cornered.
Then something happened Claire did not expect.
He became angry.
“Because I lied!”
The room froze.
Daniel’s voice rose.
“I lied because I saw the damn thing in the bag and then it disappeared after Thomas took the property!”
Vincent said nothing.
Daniel continued.
“I should have told you.”
“Yes.”
“I was trying to keep you alive.”
“By lying.”
“You weren’t sleeping!”
His voice cracked.
“You were sitting in Grace’s room every night with a gun on the dresser.”
Claire’s chest tightened.
Vincent’s face changed.
Margaret looked down.
Daniel’s eyes filled.
“You think I don’t remember?”
Silence.
“You stopped eating.”
“You stopped speaking unless it was about revenge.”
“You interrogated waiters who had worked for you ten years.”
“You had three men dragged into warehouses because somebody whispered their names.”
Vincent’s jaw tightened.
“That is enough.”
“No.”
Daniel stepped closer.
“For once, no.”
The best friend had returned.
Not the suspect.
The man who had stood beside grief.
“You want to know why I hid details?”
His voice broke.
“Because I was afraid every detail would become another person you killed before you killed yourself.”
Silence.
Claire looked at Vincent.
He did not deny it.
That mattered.
Daniel’s breathing slowed.
“I made bad decisions.”
“Yes.”
“I stole money.”
Everyone froze.
There.
Confession.
Vincent’s eyes hardened.
Daniel continued.
“I moved funds.”
“How much?”
“Approximately six million.”
Marco swore.
Daniel looked ashamed.
“I was covering losses.”
“Whose?”
“Mine.”
“From what?”
“Investments.”
“Gambling?”
“No.”
“Then?”
“A shipping venture.”
Vincent laughed bitterly.
“You stole six million dollars because you were embarrassed about a bad investment.”
“I intended to replace it.”
“All thieves love temporary ownership.”
Daniel flinched.
Claire thought of Emily’s recording.
He was admitting exactly enough to explain motive without admitting murder.
“Emily found out,” Vincent said.
Daniel’s face changed.
“Yes.”
“You knew she planned to tell me.”
“Yes.”
“And that night she died.”
Daniel went pale.
“You think I poisoned her.”
“I think you had a reason to want me distracted.”
“That is not the same as wanting Emily dead.”
“Or me.”
Daniel stared.
Vincent continued.
“The poison was meant for my glasses.”
Daniel shook his head.
“No.”
“You knew the glasses were handled separately.”
“Everyone knew.”
“You arranged it.”
“For security.”
“You told Thomas to carry them.”
“Yes.”
Daniel slammed both hands on the table.
“Because people had threatened to poison you before!”
The irony hung there.
Claire felt sick.
Daniel looked at Vincent.
“I stole.”
“Yes.”
“I lied.”
“Yes.”
“I did not kill them.”
His voice broke completely.
“I loved Grace.”
Vincent’s face became dangerous.
“Do not.”
“She was my goddaughter.”
“Do not use her.”
“I’m not!”
Daniel’s eyes filled.
“I held her at her baptism.”
Vincent stepped closer.
“So did I.”
Silence.
“I buried her.”
Daniel stopped.
Vincent’s voice lowered.
“I buried my daughter while the man who stole from me stood beside the coffin and told me he was my brother.”
Daniel looked destroyed.
Maybe because it was true.
Maybe because he was innocent of the murder and guilty of everything around it.
Claire did not know.
Then Lily appeared in the doorway again.
Everyone froze.
She looked frightened.
Too many raised voices.
Claire immediately crossed to her.
“Hey.”
“Why yelling?”
“Adults forgot manners.”
Lily looked at Daniel.
“Are you bad?”
The room went silent.
Daniel’s face changed.
Children.
No legal qualifications.
No strategy.
Only direct questions.
He looked at her.
“I’ve done bad things.”
Vincent stared.
Lily nodded.
“Say sorry.”
Daniel almost laughed.
Then he looked at Vincent.
“I am sorry.”
Vincent’s face did not soften.
Lily whispered to Claire:
“He still mad.”
“Yes.”
“Sorry not magic?”
Claire looked at her daughter.
“No.”
“That’s important to remember.”
Lily nodded solemnly.
Daniel stared at the child.
Then the butterfly drawing on the table.
His eyes changed.
Fear returned.
He looked toward Vincent.
“You opened it.”
Silence.
There.
The mistake.
Vincent became perfectly still.
“What?”
Daniel realized too late.
“The barrette.”
Claire’s skin went cold.
Vincent’s voice dropped.
“How do you know it opens?”
Daniel said nothing.
Nobody moved.
Then the library doors burst inward.
A security man Claire did not recognize shouted:
“Mr. Mercer, now!”
Daniel turned.
Vincent’s men moved.
The stranger pulled a gun.
Everything became noise.
Marco tackled Claire and Lily behind the dining table.
Vincent drew his own weapon.
Two shots cracked.
The stranger fell.
Daniel stood frozen.
Not running.
Not fighting.
His face had gone white.
Vincent aimed at him.
“Hands.”
Daniel raised them.
“Vince.”
“Hands where I can see them.”
“I didn’t know he was here.”
“Who is he?”
Daniel stared at the wounded man.
Then whispered:
“Moretti.”
Vincent’s eyes narrowed.
The Moretti organization.
A rival crew Vincent had nearly gone to war with two years earlier.
Daniel looked at him.
“This is bigger than the money.”
Vincent’s gun remained steady.
Daniel swallowed.
“And if you found what Emily hid in that barrette…”
May you like
His voice became quiet.
“…then they know you’re finally looking in the right direction.”
