Chapter 2 - The Photograph on the Kitchen Table
Diane read the message seventeen times.
She sat at her kitchen table after midnight, still wearing part of her waitress uniform, staring at the photograph beneath the yellow light above the stove.
Her parents smiled back at her.
Thomas and Elaine Harper.
The photograph had been taken nearly three years earlier at a summer picnic. Her father had one arm around her mother. Elaine was laughing at something outside the frame.
Diane remembered that afternoon.
She remembered everything about them.
What she didn’t remember was ever seeing this particular photograph.
On the back, five words had been written in black ink.
ASK RAVI GREEDY WHAT HAPPENED.
Sadi slept downstairs in Mrs. Alvarez’s apartment.
Diane had refused to bring her home until the police had finished examining the apartment.
Nothing valuable had been stolen.
No drawers had been emptied.
The lock showed no obvious damage.
Someone had entered for one reason.
To leave the photograph.
Diane heard footsteps behind her.
She spun around.
A detective stood near the doorway.
“Ms. Harper?”
“Yes.”
“I’m Detective Lawson.”
He nodded toward the photograph.
“You recognize the people?”
“My parents.”
“When did they die?”
“Two years ago.”
“How?”
“Car accident.”
“Any connection to Ravi Greedy?”
“No.”
The answer came automatically.
Then Diane remembered the message.
“I mean... none that I know about.”
Lawson wrote something in his notebook.
“How did you meet Mr. Greedy?”
Diane almost laughed at the absurdity.
“Tonight.”
“And someone broke into your apartment tonight?”
“Yes.”
Lawson studied her.
“That’s quite a coincidence.”
“I don’t think it is.”
Neither did he.
After the police left, Diane went downstairs and carried a sleeping Sadi home.
She placed her sister gently in bed and stood there watching her.
Ten years old.
Innocent.
Unaware that their world had changed again.
Diane returned to the kitchen.
She pulled out her phone.
Ravi had never given her his number.
But apparently he didn’t need to.
A message appeared from an unknown number.
Do not stay in your apartment tonight.
Diane stared.
Another message followed.
Take your sister somewhere safe.
Her anger overcame her fear.
She typed back.
How did you get my number?
The response arrived almost immediately.
That is not the important question.
Diane typed:
Did you send someone into my apartment?
Three dots appeared.
No.
Then how do you know someone broke in?
This time, the response took longer.
Because whoever did it wanted you to contact me.
Diane looked at the photograph.
Why?
The phone rang.
Unknown number.
She answered.
“Tell me what you know.”
Ravi’s voice came through.
“Not over the phone.”
“You don’t get to decide that.”
“Actually, tonight I do.”
Diane stood.
“My parents are dead. Someone breaks into my apartment and leaves your name beside their photograph, and you think you can give me orders?”
Silence.
Then Ravi said something unexpected.
“I knew your father.”
Diane’s anger vanished.
“What?”
“I knew Thomas Harper.”
Her knees weakened.
“How?”
“Take Sadi somewhere safe.”
“You know her name?”
“Yes.”
“How?”
“Diane.”
“Answer me!”
Ravi’s voice remained calm.
“Because your father once saved my life.”
Diane gripped the phone.
“That’s impossible.”
“No.”
“My father was an accountant.”
“Yes.”
“He hated criminals.”
“I know.”
“Then why would he know you?”
“Because for eighteen months, Thomas Harper worked for a company that secretly moved money for people connected to my organization.”
Diane couldn’t speak.
Ravi continued.
“Your father discovered it.”
“No.”
“He tried to expose it.”
“No.”
“And two weeks before he died, he came to me.”
Diane closed her eyes.
Her father had never mentioned any of this.
“What did he want?”
“Protection.”
“For himself?”
“No.”
Ravi paused.
“For you and Sadi.”
Diane’s hand began trembling.
“What happened?”
“That conversation cannot happen on a phone.”
“Why should I trust you?”
“You shouldn’t.”
The answer surprised her.
“You should verify everything I tell you.”
Diane looked toward Sadi’s bedroom.
“Where?”
“Tomorrow morning. Nine o’clock. Greedy Tower.”
Diane almost laughed.
“I’m not walking into your building alone.”
“Bring Detective Lawson if you want.”
That surprised her even more.
“You know who the detective is?”
“I know who entered your apartment too.”
Diane’s breath stopped.
“Who?”
“Tomorrow.”
The call ended.
At exactly nine the next morning, Diane entered Greedy Tower.
She had expected something sinister.
Instead, she found polished stone, glass elevators, receptionists, lawyers, executives, and people carrying coffee.
Ravi’s office occupied the forty-seventh floor.
He stood beside the windows when Diane entered.
Same dark hair.
Same controlled expression.
But without the ballroom and tuxedo, he somehow looked different.
More human.
Almost.
Diane placed the photograph on his desk.
“Talk.”
Ravi looked at it.
For the first time since she had met him, his composure visibly cracked.
“Where did you get this?”
“My kitchen table.”
He picked it up.
“You’ve seen it before.”
“Yes.”
“Where?”
Ravi walked toward a cabinet.
He unlocked it.
Inside were files.
He removed one.
Then he placed another copy of the same photograph beside Diane’s.
Her mouth fell open.
“Why do you have that?”
“Your father gave it to me.”
Diane stared at him.
“He told me if anything happened to him, I was supposed to protect his daughters.”
Her anger exploded.
“Then where were you for two years?”
Ravi accepted the accusation without flinching.
“I thought you were safe.”
“You thought wrong.”
“Yes.”
The admission disarmed her slightly.
He opened the file.
Inside were financial documents.
Her father’s handwriting covered the margins.
“What is this?”
“Evidence.”
“Of what?”
“A laundering network operating through several legitimate businesses.”
Diane looked at the pages.
“And you were involved?”
“My organization was.”
“That means you were.”
“Yes.”
Again, no excuse.
“But the accounts your father discovered weren’t mine.”
Diane looked up.
“Whose were they?”
“That was the question Thomas was trying to answer.”
Ravi turned a page.
“Someone had been moving money through my companies without authorization.”
“Someone stole from you?”
“Millions.”
“And my father discovered it?”
“Yes.”
Diane remembered the accident report.
Rain.
A highway.
A truck crossing lanes.
Police had called it tragic bad luck.
“Was my parents’ accident really an accident?”
Ravi didn’t answer immediately.
That was answer enough.
Diane backed away.
“No.”
“I never found proof.”
“You suspected it?”
“Yes.”
“And you said nothing?”
“Your father made me promise.”
“To hide the truth from me?”
“To keep you alive.”
Diane stared at him.
“Who was he afraid of?”
Ravi looked toward the photograph.
“A man named Victor Dane.”
The name meant nothing to her.
“Who is that?”
“He worked for me.”
“Worked?”
“He disappeared three days after your parents died.”
Diane’s stomach tightened.
“You think he killed them?”
“I think Victor knew why they died.”
Ravi opened another folder.
A surveillance photograph showed a middle-aged man leaving an office building.
Diane leaned closer.
Then froze.
She knew him.
“That’s impossible.”
Ravi noticed.
“You recognize him?”
Diane stepped back.
She had seen that face recently.
Very recently.
Then she remembered.
The charity ball.
A man standing beside Catherine.
A man who had watched Diane kiss Ravi.
“He was there last night.”
Ravi’s expression changed.
“Where?”
“At the party.”
“Are you certain?”
“Yes.”
Ravi reached for his phone.
Diane stopped him.
“Wait.”
Something else had surfaced in her memory.
Victor had not merely been at the ballroom.
He had spoken to Catherine.
Diane remembered carrying champagne past them.
Catherine had leaned close to him.
Victor had whispered something.
Then Catherine had looked directly at Diane.
The realization struck hard.
“Catherine knew.”
Ravi went still.
“Knew what?”
“She didn’t choose me randomly.”
Ravi stared at her.
Diane suddenly understood why Catherine had been watching her before making the offer.
“She knew who I was.”
Ravi’s jaw tightened.
“Which means the kiss wasn’t Catherine’s revenge.”
Diane looked at the photograph of Victor.
“What was it?”
Ravi’s answer was quiet.
“A message.”
“To you?”
“No.”
His eyes settled on Diane.
“To whoever has been waiting two years for you to meet me.”
Before Diane could respond, her phone rang.
Sadi’s school.
Diane answered immediately.
“Hello?”
A woman spoke.
“Ms. Harper, this is the school office.”
“Yes?”
“We wanted to confirm something.”
Diane’s stomach tightened.
“What?”
“A gentleman arrived ten minutes ago asking to pick up Sadi.”
Diane stopped breathing.
“What gentleman?”
“He said he was her uncle.”
“I don’t have an uncle.”
Ravi was already moving toward her.
The secretary’s voice became nervous.
“That’s what concerned us.”
“Where is Sadi?”
“She’s safe. We didn’t release her.”
Diane closed her eyes.
“Thank God.”
“But there’s something else.”
“What?”
“He left when we asked for identification.”
Diane gripped the phone.
“Did you see him?”
“Yes.”
“Can you describe him?”
The secretary began.
“About fifty. Gray hair. Tall—”
Diane looked at Victor’s photograph.
Her blood turned cold.
“Was he wearing a dark gray coat?”
A pause.
“Yes.”
Diane lowered the phone.
Ravi already understood.
“Victor.”
She nodded.
Then the elevator behind them chimed.
One of Ravi’s security men stepped into the office carrying an envelope.
“This was delivered downstairs.”
Ravi took it.
No return address.
He opened it.
Inside was a photograph taken less than thirty minutes earlier.
Sadi leaving school.
Diane nearly collapsed.
Written beneath the photograph were seven words.
May you like
THOMAS HID SOMETHING. THE GIRL KNOWS WHERE.
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