Chapter 8 - THE CONFESSION IN THE OLD COAT
Claire stared at Vincent.
His father's confession changed the entire shape of the story.
“You knew?”
“I knew he claimed responsibility.”
“You hid that from me.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because I didn't believe him.”
Claire stepped away.
“But now?”
“Now I do.”
The hotel room felt suffocating.
She held her mother's coat against her chest.
“Where is your father?”
Vincent looked down.
“Dead.”
“When?”
“Four years ago.”
“Did he die naturally?”
Vincent hesitated.
“Yes.”
Claire looked at him.
“Did you tell the police?”
“No.”
“Why?”
“Because I was afraid they would connect everything to you.”
Claire's eyes filled.
“You keep using protection as an excuse.”
“I know.”
“You decide what I can handle.”
“I know.”
“And every time you do, you make the danger worse.”
Vincent nodded.
“I know.”
That answer stopped her.
There was no argument.
No defense.
He finally understood.
The hotel room door opened.
Eleanor stood there.
Alive.
Claire froze.
“Mom.”
Eleanor rushed toward her.
Claire embraced her.
For several seconds, neither spoke.
Then Claire pulled back.
“You knew about Vincent's father.”
“Yes.”
“You knew he ordered Dad's murder?”
“Yes.”
“Why didn't you tell me?”
“Because I needed you alive.”
Claire looked at Vincent.
“He knew too.”
Eleanor nodded.
“Then both of you were protecting me with lies.”
“Yes.”
Claire wiped her eyes.
“I'm tired of being protected.”
Eleanor touched her cheek.
“I know.”
Then she looked at Vincent.
“Vale is coming.”
“How do you know?”
“Because I have what he wants.”
She removed a small envelope from inside the gray coat.
A key.
Not a bank key.
A car key.
Claire stared.
“What's that?”
“The car your father died in.”
Vincent went still.
Eleanor continued.
“Your father hid evidence inside it.”
“Where is the car?”
“In a private garage.”
Claire looked at Vincent.
“Take us there.”
The garage was outside the city.
The old sedan was covered in dust.
Claire stood beside it.
This was the car from the accident report.
Her father's final possession.
Vincent opened the trunk.
Nothing.
Eleanor touched the dashboard.
“Your father told me the evidence was hidden where no thief would look.”
Claire looked around.
The driver's seat.
The glove compartment.
The rearview mirror.
Then she remembered her mother's watch.
She took it out.
The silver watch had stopped at 11:42.
Claire turned it over.
A tiny engraving appeared beneath the back cover.
D.C. — 11:42
Her father's initials.
His time of death.
She pressed the watch against the dashboard.
Nothing.
Then she heard a click.
A compartment opened beneath the steering column.
Inside was a cassette.
And a photograph.
The photograph showed Vale.
Salvatore.
Giovanni Moretti.
And another man.
Claire recognized him.
Daniel Mercer.
Vincent's CFO.
Vincent stared.
“That's impossible.”
Eleanor shook her head.
“No.”
Claire looked at Daniel's photograph.
“He was involved?”
“Yes.”
“He's the one who told us the accounts were being emptied.”
Vincent's face hardened.
“He's been manipulating us.”
Eleanor nodded.
“Vale has been using him for years.”
Claire picked up the cassette.
“What's on it?”
Her father answered from the past.
His voice filled the garage.
“If you're hearing this, then Vale has finally found the records.”
Claire closed her eyes.
Daniel continued.
“I discovered the Moretti operation years ago.”
The tape crackled.
“Giovanni wanted out.”
Vincent looked stunned.
“He wanted to leave?”
“Yes,” Eleanor said.
The recording continued.
“Vale refused.”
“Then Giovanni ordered Daniel to eliminate me.”
Vincent whispered,
“Daniel.”
Claire looked at him.
“Your father tried to stop the order.”
“But it was too late.”
“Yes.”
The tape continued.
“Daniel carried out the plan.”
Claire's hand shook.
“Then why is Daniel still alive?”
Eleanor answered.
“Because he became Vale's inside man.”
Vincent clenched his fists.
The final part of the recording revealed the truth.
Daniel had been the person moving money.
He had created the account in the unborn child's name.
He had framed Eleanor.
He had arranged Vanessa's involvement.
And he had been slowly dismantling Vincent's empire from within.
But there was one final detail.
The recording crackled.
“Daniel doesn't work for Vale anymore.”
Claire frowned.
“What?”
Her father's voice continued.
“He works for himself.”
The tape ended.
Silence.
Vincent stared at the floor.
“So Vale isn't the final threat.”
Eleanor shook her head.
“No.”
Claire understood.
Daniel had used Vale.
Used the Morettis.
Used her mother.
Used Vincent.
And now he wanted the evidence for himself.
A car engine roared outside.
Vincent looked toward the garage entrance.
Daniel stepped from a black SUV.
He held a gun.
But his expression wasn't angry.
It was tired.
“I wish you hadn't found that tape.”
Claire stepped forward.
“Why?”
Daniel looked at her belly.
“Because now I have to choose.”
“Choose what?”
He lowered the gun slightly.
“Whether I kill Vincent.”
May you like
He paused.
“Or save him.”
