Chapter 5 - What Anthony Never Told Me
I called Anthony at 2:14 in the morning.
He answered immediately.
“Emma?”
“Where are you?”
A pause.
“Home.”
“Are you alone?”
Another pause.
“No.”
I exhaled.
“Security?”
“Yes.”
“Good.”
His voice sharpened.
“What happened?”
I sent him the image.
Silence followed.
Long enough to make me sit up straighter in Louise’s guest bed.
“Anthony?”
“I’m here.”
“Whoever this is photographed you.”
“I see that.”
“They said I could lose something.”
“I see that too.”
I hated his calm.
“How are you not reacting?”
“I am.”
“You sound like you’re ordering coffee.”
“That’s deliberate.”
The truth of that unsettled me.
His restraint wasn’t absence of fear.
It was discipline.
“Emma, wake Louise.”
“Why?”
“Because I want you to move away from windows until Daniel confirms where the image was taken.”
“It was my shop.”
“I know.”
“Then why—”
“Please.”
I got up.
By 2:30, Louise sat in her kitchen wearing a robe covered in tiny yellow flowers, drinking coffee as if threatening photographs at two in the morning were merely inconvenient.
“I told you that Russo boy was trouble,” she said.
“You also accepted his marquee money.”
“That sign looks beautiful.”
“Louise.”
“Two things can be true.”
Anthony arrived at 3:05.
I opened the door before he knocked.
He wore jeans and a black sweater instead of a suit.
It should have made him look less intimidating.
It didn’t.
Daniel followed him.
Louise pointed toward the kitchen.
“No guns at my table.”
Daniel froze.
Anthony sighed.
“Louise.”
“I don’t know what either of you carry.”
Anthony looked at Daniel.
Daniel slowly removed a holstered handgun and placed it in a locked case from his vehicle.
I stared at Anthony.
“You?”
“No.”
Louise narrowed her eyes.
Anthony lifted both hands.
She inspected him with her gaze.
“Sit.”
The most feared man in Rochester sat.
I almost smiled.
Almost.
Daniel spread photographs and property records across the table.
“The second picture was taken from a parking structure opposite Emma’s shop,” he explained. “Camera footage shows a gray sedan entering twenty minutes before and leaving afterward. Plate was obscured.”
“Same people as the SUV?” I asked.
“We don’t know.”
Anthony studied the photo.
“What about metadata?”
“Stripped.”
Louise sipped coffee.
“Explain why anyone wants my ugly building badly enough to stalk people.”
Daniel looked at Anthony.
Anthony nodded.
Daniel pulled out a map.
“Holloway’s shell companies currently control fourteen parcels along the industrial corridor.”
Riverside sat almost in the middle.
“If they acquire the center and three adjacent lots,” Daniel continued, “they can create continuous road access between the rail spur and the highway connector.”
“What happens if I refuse?” Louise asked.
“Normally? Nothing.”
“Normally.”
Daniel tapped another document.
“But somebody filed a preliminary zoning inquiry last week describing Riverside as ‘vacant community-use property.’”
Louise slammed down her mug.
“Vacant?”
“Exactly.”
“We serve four hundred families a month.”
“They’re creating a paper trail.”
“For what?”
Anthony answered.
“Eminent-domain pressure.”
The phrase made the room colder.
I stared at him.
“The city can just take Riverside?”
“Not easily. But if Holloway convinces officials the project creates enough jobs and Riverside is underused, they can pressure a sale or reclassification.”
Louise stood.
“I’ll show them underused.”
Anthony almost smiled.
Then Daniel slid another page forward.
“There’s more.”
Of course there was.
“Holloway isn’t working alone.”
Anthony’s expression became unreadable.
Daniel continued.
“Some property transfers were financed through North Lake Freight Services.”
I looked at Anthony.
The name meant nothing to me.
It meant something to him.
“Whose company?” Louise asked.
Anthony said nothing.
Daniel answered.
“Officially? Several investors.”
“Unofficially?”
Daniel’s eyes flickered toward Anthony.
“Russo family interests.”
I stared at him.
“You’re involved?”
“No.”
“But your family is?”
“Yes.”
“Who?”
Anthony leaned back.
“My uncle, Vincent.”
The name stirred vague memories.
Vincent Russo was Anthony’s father’s younger brother.
I had seen photographs in newspapers years earlier.
“Does he work for you?”
“Not anymore.”
“What does that mean?”
Anthony’s gaze stayed on the map.
“When my father died seven years ago, the businesses were divided.”
“Like an inheritance.”
“Like a war avoided by paperwork.”
That sentence said more than he intended.
“My father had legal companies and illegal operations,” he continued. “Freight. Construction. Clubs. Betting. Loans. Vincent believed nothing should change.”
“And you?”
“I wanted out of several things.”
“Several.”
He didn’t flinch.
“I didn’t become a different man overnight, Emma.”
“At least you know that.”
“I sold clubs. Closed betting rooms. Converted cash businesses. Put legitimate management into freight operations.”
Daniel added, “And made powerful enemies.”
Anthony gave him a look.
Daniel shrugged.
“She needs to understand.”
I agreed.
“What did your uncle do?”
“He kept operating the old way through companies I didn’t control.”
“And now he’s working with Holloway.”
“It appears that way.”
Louise looked between them.
“So your family feud is landing on my front lawn.”
Anthony’s face tightened.
“I didn’t know Vincent was connected when I donated.”
“I believe you,” Louise said.
I stared at her.
She ignored me.
Anthony looked surprised too.
“Why?”
Louise shrugged.
“Because if you were trying to steal Riverside, you wouldn’t be sitting in my kitchen at three-thirty in the morning explaining how somebody else is trying to steal Riverside.”
Fair point.
I looked at Anthony.
“What happens when Vincent finds out you’re stopping him?”
“He already knows.”
“How?”
Anthony’s silence answered.
The photographs.
“Those messages aren’t only about Riverside,” I said.
“No.”
“They’re for you.”
“Yes.”
“Then why involve me?”
His eyes met mine.
“Because he thinks you matter.”
My chest tightened.
“Do I?”
Nobody moved.
Even Louise stopped drinking.
Anthony looked down at his hands.
Then back at me.
“Yes.”
One word.
No dramatic speech.
No smile.
Just yes.
It frightened me.
Not because of him.
Because part of me felt relieved.
I stood.
“I need air.”
Anthony started to rise.
“Stay.”
He sat again.
I stepped onto Louise’s back porch.
The sky was beginning to lighten above neighboring rooftops.
A minute later, Louise joined me.
“You like him.”
“I’m currently deciding whether his family is trying to steal your building.”
“That wasn’t my question.”
“He lied to me.”
“Yes.”
“He’s involved in things I don’t understand.”
“Yes.”
“He scares people.”
“Yes.”
“Could you disagree once?”
“No.”
I looked at her.
Louise smiled.
“I remember his mother.”
I froze.
“What?”
“Maria Russo. Pretty woman. Sad eyes.”
“Anthony said you probably wouldn’t remember.”
“Anthony underestimates old women.”
Apparently.
“She used to come to Riverside?”
“For about a year. Wednesday dinners mostly. Sometimes Saturday mornings.”
“With Anthony?”
“He was skinny then.”
I tried to imagine it.
“You knew who his father was?”
“Eventually.”
“Why didn’t you tell anyone?”
Louise gave me a look.
“Because women hiding from powerful husbands do not need community-center directors advertising their location.”
The implication hit me.
“Was his father abusive?”
Louise looked toward the kitchen window.
“I never saw him strike her.”
That was not an answer.
“She was frightened,” Louise said. “That was enough for me.”
My anger toward Anthony didn’t disappear.
But it shifted.
“He donated because of her.”
“I figured.”
“You knew?”
“Twenty-five thousand dollars arrives anonymously two weeks after a Russo company asks for an electrical permit near Riverside? I’m old, not dead.”
I laughed despite everything.
Then Louise became serious.
“Emma, understanding a man is not the same as excusing him.”
“I know.”
“Good.”
“Do you think he’s dangerous?”
“Yes.”
I turned.
She held up a hand.
“Powerful men are dangerous even when they mean well. Sometimes especially then.”
That stayed with me.
“What should I do?”
“Make him prove what kind of danger he is.”
Inside, Anthony’s phone rang.
His voice changed.
“What?”
Daniel stood.
Anthony listened.
“When?”
He ended the call.
I stepped back inside.
“What happened?”
He looked at Louise.
“City inspection team is at Riverside.”
Louise frowned.
“At six in the morning?”
“Exactly.”
We drove there immediately.
When we arrived, two city vehicles were parked outside.
Three inspectors stood near the entrance.
A yellow notice had been taped to the door.
Louise marched toward it.
“What is this?”
One inspector held up his hands.
“Ma’am, we received an emergency structural complaint.”
“From who?”
“Anonymous.”
Louise ripped the notice from the door.
Anthony read it.
His face darkened.
TEMPORARY CLOSURE PENDING SAFETY REVIEW.
“No,” Louise said.
The inspector looked uncomfortable.
“We have reports of electrical hazards, roof instability and occupancy violations.”
“The electrical system was inspected last month.”
“I understand.”
Anthony stepped forward.
The inspector recognized him instantly.
“Mr. Russo.”
Anthony held up the closure notice.
“Who authorized this?”
“I’m not sure.”
“Find out.”
The man swallowed.
I touched Anthony’s arm.
He stopped.
One second.
That was all.
But everyone saw it.
His expression changed.
He handed the paper back instead of moving closer.
“Please,” he said, correcting himself. “Find out.”
The inspector nodded.
Anthony looked at me.
I realized what had just happened.
He had almost used fear.
Then remembered his promise.
No threats.
No intimidation.
He had chosen differently because I was watching.
Before I could say anything, Louise pointed upward.
“The sign.”
We looked.
The restored marquee was dark.
Anthony’s electrician checked the power box.
Five minutes later he returned.
“Feed cable was cut.”
“Accident?” I asked.
He shook his head.
“Clean cut.”
Anthony stared at the dead sign.
The same sign his mother once used as a beacon toward safety.
Someone had deliberately turned it off.
Then my phone buzzed.
A message from an unknown number.
LIGHTS GO OUT ONE BUILDING AT A TIME.
Beneath it was an address.
I knew it immediately.
Corner Print & Copy.
Anthony saw my face.
“What?”
I handed him the phone.
He read the message.
Then looked toward his driver.
“Emma’s shop. Now.”
My stomach dropped.
We reached Monroe Avenue twelve minutes later.
The building was still there.
Windows intact.
Door locked.
For one second, I felt foolishly relieved.
Then I noticed the darkness.
Every storefront on the block had electricity.
Coffee shop.
Pharmacy.
Dry cleaner.
All glowing.
Corner Print & Copy was black.
Anthony’s security man opened the electrical panel.
His expression changed.
“What?”
He reached inside carefully.
Then held up a small burned component.
“Main breaker was sabotaged.”
Anthony looked at me.
I looked through the dark window at my printers, my counter, the business I had spent six years building.
Nobody had destroyed it.
They had done something more deliberate.
They had turned off the lights.
Riverside first.
My shop second.
A message.
And Anthony understood it exactly when I did.
Vincent Russo wasn’t trying to win a property dispute anymore.
May you like
He was showing Anthony he could reach every place either of us cared about.
And unless we found a way to stop him, the next thing he turned off might not be a building.
