Chapter 10 - A Debt Seven Years Old
I barely slept.
At nine the next morning, Agent Torres fitted me with a recording device so small I could hardly see it.
Dominic hated every second.
“You don’t have to do this,” he said for the fifth time.
“Yes, I do.”
“No. You want to.”
“There’s a difference?”
“A large one.”
We were in a quiet parking garage three blocks from Bellamy’s.
Torres checked the transmitter.
“If anything feels wrong, you leave.”
“How?”
“Say you need to call your mother.”
“My mother would love being an emergency code.”
Dominic did not laugh.
He stood in front of me.
“You see Sloane, you leave.”
“Okay.”
“You see anyone you don’t recognize—”
“I work in a restaurant. There are usually strangers.”
“Claire.”
“I know.”
His expression softened.
“Being brave doesn’t mean being careless.”
I nodded.
Then I walked to Bellamy’s.
The restaurant looked different in daylight.
Smaller.
Less magical.
Without chandeliers and candles, I could see scratches in the marble, dust in corners, chipped paint beneath the host stand.
Maybe places are like people.
Lighting can hide a lot.
Mr. Bennett waited in the private dining room.
He was alone.
“Sit.”
I remained standing.
“You fired me.”
“You disappointed me.”
“You told police I stole from you.”
He sighed.
“That can be corrected.”
“So can my employment?”
“Yes.”
“And the police report?”
“Yes.”
“What do you want?”
He looked pleased.
He thought desperation had worked.
“Where is Emily Bennett?”
“I don’t know.”
“Then find out.”
“How?”
“Moretti trusts you.”
I laughed.
“He barely knows me.”
“He brought you with them.”
“So?”
“Dominic does nothing accidentally.”
That sentence stayed with me.
Bennett pushed an envelope across the table.
Cash.
I did not touch it.
“How much?”
“Five thousand.”
My heart accelerated.
Not because I wanted the money.
Because Bennett had just committed himself.
“For an address?”
“For useful information.”
“And if I refuse?”
He leaned back.
“Theft charges proceed.”
“I didn’t steal anything.”
“That may not matter.”
There it was.
The threat.
Clear.
Recorded.
I kept my expression uncertain.
“I need more.”
Bennett smiled.
“Now you’re thinking.”
“I lost my job because of this.”
“Ten.”
“Fifteen.”
“Twelve.”
The number hit me.
Twelve dollars.
Exactly what Emily had possessed.
I nearly laughed.
“Fine.”
Bennett studied me.
“Where are they?”
“I said I don’t know.”
“Then why am I paying you?”
“I can find out.”
“How?”
“Dominic offered me a job.”
Bennett’s eyes sharpened.
“Doing what?”
“He didn’t say.”
“Accept it.”
I stared at him.
“You want me working for Moretti?”
“I want you listening.”
Bennett stood.
“Names. Meetings. Anything about Nathan’s files.”
I forced surprise.
“Nathan?”
His face froze.
A mistake.
Tiny.
But real.
“Who?”
“Emily’s husband.”
“I don’t know anything about him.”
“You just said his name.”
“No, you did.”
I let silence hang.
Then Bennett smiled again.
“You’re cleverer than I thought.”
“Apparently not clever enough to keep my job.”
He walked closer.
“Be careful, Claire.”
“I am.”
“No.”
His smile disappeared.
“You don’t understand the people involved.”
“Then explain.”
“You don’t need to know.”
“Is Julian Cross involved?”
He slapped me.
Fast.
Not hard enough to knock me down.
Hard enough to tell me I had hit the truth.
For one second I forgot the microphone.
I forgot Torres.
I forgot Dominic.
Then Bennett stepped back, equally surprised by what he had done.
I touched my cheek.
“You just hit me.”
“You shouldn’t have said that name.”
“Why?”
He stared.
Then the private dining room door opened.
Victor Sloane entered.
My stomach dropped.
Dominic’s warning screamed in my head.
You see Sloane, you leave.
I stepped backward.
“I need to call my mother.”
Bennett looked confused.
Sloane did not.
His eyes moved immediately toward my jacket.
“No,” he said.
Then he smiled.
“Let’s see what Claire is wearing.”
I ran.
I made it through the dining room before Sloane caught my coat.
I twisted free.
A chair fell.
Kitchen staff shouted.
Then the front doors opened.
Agent Torres entered with four federal officers.
“Federal agents! Nobody move!”
Everything happened quickly after that.
Sloane raised his hands.
Bennett began yelling about harassment.
Torres pulled the recorder from my coat.
“You okay?”
“My face hurts.”
Dominic appeared behind the officers.
I stared at him.
“You weren’t supposed to be here.”
He shrugged.
“I was across the street.”
Torres glared.
“I told you to stay away.”
“I stayed away.”
“You are literally here.”
“Now.”
Despite the pain, I laughed.
Bennett pointed at me.
“She entrapped me!”
Torres looked amused.
“You invited her.”
“She demanded money.”
“You offered it first.”
His face changed.
The recording had everything.
The threat.
The bribe.
Nathan’s name.
His reaction to Julian Cross.
But Torres did not arrest him.
That shocked me.
“Why?” I asked afterward.
“Because I want the network, not just Bennett.”
Dominic looked toward the restaurant.
“He’ll run.”
“We’re watching him.”
“He’ll destroy evidence.”
“We’re watching that too.”
Emily arrived at the safe location later and hugged me.
Actually hugged me.
“I’m sorry.”
I laughed.
“Everyone needs to stop apologizing.”
She touched the red mark on my cheek.
“You did that for us.”
“I did it because he needed to be stopped.”
Dominic stood near the window.
Emily looked at him.
“You still owe me an answer.”
He knew which one.
Nathan.
Seven years.
The debt.
Dominic poured coffee and sat.
“The night Nathan died,” he began, “he called me at 11:43.”
Emily held her breath.
“He said he found seven men using my companies without my knowledge.”
“Your companies?”
“One warehouse and two distribution contracts.”
“Money laundering?”
Dominic nodded.
“I had legitimate and illegitimate businesses then.”
Emily’s face hardened.
“At least you admit it.”
“I stopped lying to myself years ago.”
He continued.
“Nathan wanted to go to federal authorities.”
“Did you stop him?”
“No.”
His voice grew quieter.
“I told him to wait until morning.”
Emily stared.
“Why?”
“Because I thought I could identify everyone first.”
“And that night he died.”
“Yes.”
Dominic looked down.
“I have asked myself for seven years whether he would still be alive if I had told him to go immediately.”
Emily’s anger disappeared.
Not forgiveness.
Something more complicated.
“You blamed yourself.”
“I still do.”
She looked at Nathan’s letter.
“That’s why you helped us.”
“At first.”
“And now?”
Dominic looked toward Sophie, who was drawing at the table.
“Now I don’t need Nathan as a reason.”
Sophie looked up.
“Reason for what?”
Dominic replied, “To make sure you get dinner.”
She smiled.
Then Agent Torres’s phone rang.
Her expression became serious.
She answered.
Listened.
“Where?”
Pause.
“When?”
She looked directly at Dominic.
“What happened?” he asked.
Torres ended the call.
“Arthur Bennett just left Bellamy’s through the loading entrance.”
Dominic frowned.
“So?”
“He was carrying a metal case.”
Emily stood.
“Nathan’s originals.”
Torres nodded.
“We think so.”
“Where is he going?”
Torres looked toward the window.
“To meet Julian Cross.”
May you like
And this time, they were meeting at the warehouse where Nathan Bennett had spent his final day alive.
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