Chapter 7 - What Mr. Bennett Was Hiding
The computer did not merely shut down.
It erased itself.
We discovered that fifteen minutes later.
Dominic sent someone upstairs to disconnect the machine from the network, but when it restarted, every folder on Emily’s flash drive displayed as empty.
Emily stared at the screen.
“No.”
She clicked again.
Nothing.
“No, no, no.”
Dominic took the drive.
“Was it encrypted?”
“Yes.”
“Did you open it on any other computer?”
“My sister’s laptop.”
“Connected to the internet?”
Emily closed her eyes.
“Yes.”
Dominic exhaled.
“They may have installed something.”
Mr. Bennett appeared in the doorway.
“What a tragedy.”
Emily turned.
“You did this.”
He shrugged.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Dominic held up the flash drive.
“Then you won’t mind if we give this to federal investigators.”
Bennett smiled.
“Go ahead.”
That confidence frightened me more than panic would have.
Dominic saw it too.
“You’re very sure.”
“Because there’s nothing on it.”
“How did you know?”
Bennett stopped smiling.
Dominic stepped closer.
“I never said the files were gone.”
Silence.
Bennett looked at me.
Then Emily.
Then Dominic.
“I assumed.”
“No,” Dominic said. “You knew.”
Mr. Bennett straightened.
“I think you should all leave.”
Dominic nodded.
“We will.”
It sounded too easy.
Bennett appeared suspicious too.
Dominic turned toward me.
“Claire, coat.”
I frowned.
“What?”
“You’re coming.”
“Why?”
“Because you heard him ask for their location.”
“I’m not in danger.”
Dominic gave me a look.
“You were just fired by a man connected to someone who breaks into apartments.”
That ended the argument.
We left Bellamy’s through the kitchen.
Chef Marco pressed a paper bag into Sophie’s hands.
“For breakfast.”
It was full of bread, fruit, and two containers of pasta.
Emily’s eyes filled.
“I can’t—”
Marco cut her off.
“If you argue, I add cannoli.”
She laughed through tears.
“Thank you.”
In the alley, two black SUVs waited.
I hesitated.
I had never willingly climbed into a vehicle associated with a man suspected of organized crime.
Sophie did it before me.
That was somehow reassuring.
Dominic rode in front.
Emily, Sophie, and I sat in back.
For the first five minutes, nobody spoke.
Chicago passed outside in wet streaks of amber and white.
Finally Sophie asked, “Are you a bad guy?”
I nearly choked.
Emily whispered, “Sophie.”
“What? People act weird around him.”
Dominic looked at her through the mirror.
“That’s a complicated question.”
“My teacher says complicated questions still need answers.”
“I’ve done things I’m not proud of.”
Sophie considered that.
“Claire too.”
Emily covered her mouth.
I stared at the ceiling.
Dominic looked amused.
“Yes.”
Sophie continued, “But she bought me cake.”
Dominic nodded seriously.
“A strong defense.”
Emily whispered, “Please stop interrogating people.”
“I’m just asking.”
Dominic looked forward again.
“No, Sophie. I’m not going to hurt you or your mother.”
“Okay.”
That was enough for her.
Children sometimes understand the difference between reputation and immediate truth better than adults.
The hotel was not really a hotel.
It occupied the top floors of a restored stone building near the river with no sign outside except a brass number.
A woman at the desk greeted Dominic without surprise.
No identification requested.
No paperwork.
That should have made me nervous.
It did.
But I was too tired.
Emily and Sophie received a suite with two bedrooms.
I was given the room across the hall.
“I have an apartment,” I told Dominic.
“You also have a former employer who thinks you know where Emily is.”
“I don’t.”
“He doesn’t know that.”
Emily appeared in the doorway.
“You should stay.”
I looked at her.
After what I had done at Bellamy’s, she was worried about me.
Shame is a strange thing.
Sometimes it makes you want to hide.
Sometimes it forces you to become someone different.
“Okay.”
Dominic took Nathan’s envelope from his jacket.
Emily stared at it.
“We should open it.”
She hesitated.
“It says it’s for Sophie.”
Dominic nodded.
“Then she decides.”
Emily looked toward the bedroom.
Sophie was already asleep with one of Marco’s bread rolls still wrapped in a napkin beside her.
“She’s eight.”
“It’s still hers.”
Emily sat at the table.
For a long moment she said nothing.
Then she whispered, “Nathan died when she was eleven months old.”
Dominic pulled out a chair.
“I know.”
“He left for work that morning.”
Her hands trembled.
“He kissed me. He kissed Sophie. We argued because he forgot to pay the electric bill.”
She laughed painfully.
“That’s my last memory of him alive. Me standing in the kitchen angry about an electric bill.”
Dominic looked down.
Emily continued.
“A truck hit his car on Lake Shore Drive.”
“Yes.”
“The police said the driver fell asleep.”
“Yes.”
She looked at him.
“Was that true?”
Dominic did not answer.
Her face changed.
“Oh, God.”
“I don’t know.”
“You suspect something.”
“I have for seven years.”
“And you never told me.”
“I had no proof.”
“You could have told me!”
“And then what?”
His voice remained calm, but pain entered it.
“You had an eleven-month-old child. Nathan was dead. The files were gone. The men connected to the accounts disappeared within days.”
Emily stood.
“You decided for me.”
“Yes.”
“Who gave you that right?”
“No one.”
She stared at him, furious and grieving at once.
Dominic did not defend himself.
“I thought silence would keep you safe.”
Emily wiped her face.
“It didn’t.”
“No.”
That single word contained seven years of regret.
Then Sophie appeared in the hallway.
Barefoot.
Sleepy.
Holding the old envelope.
All three of us froze.
“I found this on the table.”
Emily walked toward her.
“Honey, that belonged to Daddy.”
“I know.”
Sophie looked at the handwriting.
“What does it say?”
Emily read it softly.
“For Sophie, when she’s old enough.”
Sophie frowned.
“How old is old enough?”
No one knew.
She looked at Dominic.
“Did Daddy trust you?”
Dominic seemed shaken by the question.
“I think he did.”
Sophie held the envelope out.
“Then you open it.”
Emily whispered, “Sophie—”
“It might be important.”
Dominic took it carefully.
Inside was a folded letter.
And a small brass key.
Nothing else.
Dominic read the first line.
His face went still.
“What?” Emily asked.
He handed her the letter.
Nathan’s handwriting filled two pages.
Emily read silently.
Then she sat down hard.
I moved beside her.
“What does it say?”
Her lips barely moved.
“He knew.”
“Knew what?”
She looked at Dominic.
“Nathan knew someone was stealing millions.”
Dominic nodded.
“That part we suspected.”
Emily looked down at the letter again.
“No.”
Her hands began shaking.
“He knew who.”
She turned the paper toward us.
Near the bottom, Nathan had written one sentence in block letters.
If anything happens to me, do not trust Arthur Bennett. He is not working alone.
Below it were six more words.
Dominic knows the seventh man.
Emily looked at him.
“What seventh man?”
Dominic stared at Nathan’s handwriting.
Then he whispered a name.
May you like
And I realized the danger was much bigger than Bellamy’s.
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