Chapter 6 - The Brother Who Disappeared
Liam Bennett had spent eleven months running from a mistake he never intended to make.
Vincent listened to the story without interrupting.
Norah did not.
“You found evidence somebody was planning to kill him and your first thought was gambling?”
Liam lowered his head.
“No.”
“Then what?”
“I panicked.”
“That is not an answer.”
“Norah.”
“No. I paid your debt for eleven months. I worked two jobs.”
“I know.”
“You disappeared.”
“I know.”
“You let me think you were dead.”
His face twisted.
“I know.”
Norah stood and walked toward the window.
Vincent watched her.
He recognized the anger.
It was the kind that existed only when love had been injured.
Liam continued.
“The documents were inside a sealed section behind drywall. The building had been renovated twice before. I was supposed to tear everything out.”
“Why didn’t you go to the police?” Enzo asked.
Liam laughed bitterly.
“Because half the names in the documents were cops, city inspectors, contractors, people with badges.”
Vincent’s jaw tightened.
“Where are the papers?”
Liam looked at him.
“I hid them.”
“Where?”
“I’ll tell you after Norah is safe.”
Norah spun around.
“Do not use me to negotiate.”
“I’m trying to protect you.”
“You’re eleven months late.”
Vincent raised a hand.
Both stopped.
“Liam. Why the gambling debt?”
Liam looked down.
“I needed cash.”
“For what?”
“To leave.”
Vincent understood.
“You borrowed from Silas Crane.”
“Yes.”
“Then lost it.”
Liam nodded.
“I thought I could double it first.”
Norah closed her eyes.
“You gambled money you borrowed to escape gamblers?”
“When you say it like that—”
“How else could anyone say it?”
Liam rubbed his face.
“I was scared.”
Vincent leaned back.
Fear.
Again.
It explained more terrible decisions than greed ever had.
“Crane discovered what Liam had,” Enzo said.
Liam nodded.
“I think so. He stopped caring about the debt. He wanted the documents.”
“Who told him?”
“I don’t know.”
“Martin?”
“Maybe.”
Vincent stared at the table.
Martin had advised the Rossy family for nearly a decade.
He had stood at funerals.
Attended weddings.
Handled legal companies.
Met Vincent in the hospital after the poisoning.
Every day.
Martin had brought flowers.
Vincent suddenly remembered something.
The lilies.
He had hated their smell.
Martin replaced them twice.
A man planning his death had visited his hospital bed to measure whether the poison worked.
“Where are the originals?” Vincent asked.
Liam shook his head.
“No.”
Vincent’s eyes sharpened.
Norah stepped between them.
“He wants protection.”
“He has it.”
“He doesn’t know that.”
Vincent looked at her.
She was standing between him and her brother.
Five weeks ago, anyone interrupting an interrogation would have been removed.
Now he found himself explaining.
“Liam stays here.”
“This isn’t exactly comforting.”
“Not this apartment. The estate.”
Norah stared.
Vincent continued.
“Guest wing. Guarded. Nobody outside my personal team knows.”
Liam looked skeptical.
Vincent leaned closer.
“You have information about a man who tried to kill me. There is nowhere safer for you than twenty feet from me.”
“That is one of the least reassuring reassuring things I’ve ever heard,” Liam said.
Enzo laughed.
Vincent almost did.
An hour later, they traveled back separately.
Norah sat beside Vincent in the rear of an SUV.
Rain moved across the windows.
Neither spoke for several minutes.
Then Vincent said, “You should have told me.”
“About the call?”
“Yes.”
“I didn’t trust you.”
“Do you now?”
Norah looked toward him.
“I don’t know.”
He nodded.
An honest answer.
Vincent preferred it.
Norah looked outside again.
“My brother is an idiot.”
“Yes.”
She turned.
“Don’t agree that fast.”
“He borrowed fifty thousand dollars from a loan shark and gambled it.”
“Fine. He’s an idiot.”
Vincent smiled faintly.
“But he’s my idiot.”
“I understand.”
“Do you?”
“Yes.”
The humor disappeared.
Vincent looked at his hands.
“My older brother died when I was nineteen.”
Norah had never heard that.
“What happened?”
“Wrong place. Wrong business.”
“Yours?”
“My father’s.”
He looked out at the rain.
“After that, I became very good at making sure nothing could happen to people without my permission.”
“That sounds impossible.”
“It is.”
He smiled without humor.
“Took me years to learn.”
Norah studied him.
“Is that why you need control?”
Vincent looked back.
“Careful.”
“It was a question.”
“You ask dangerous questions.”
“You answer some of them.”
“Apparently.”
The car slowed.
Vincent’s phone buzzed.
Enzo.
He answered.
“What?”
Silence.
Vincent’s expression changed.
“When?”
Another pause.
“Lock down the house.”
Norah straightened.
“What happened?”
Vincent ended the call.
“Someone searched your locker.”
“At work?”
“At the estate.”
“For what?”
“Probably whatever they think Liam gave you.”
Her face paled.
“He gave me nothing.”
“They don’t know that.”
The SUV accelerated.
Vincent called another number.
“No one leaves. No vehicles. No deliveries. Check every camera between six and noon.”
Norah stared at him.
This was the Vincent Rossy everyone feared.
Cold.
Immediate.
Commanding.
Yet when he ended the call, he looked at her.
“Are you all right?”
The contrast unsettled her.
“Yes.”
“No, you’re not.”
“I’ll survive.”
His jaw tightened.
“I’m getting tired of people around me saying that.”
Twenty minutes later, they reached the estate.
Security gates closed behind them.
Inside, Norah found her locker torn apart.
Her spare uniform.
Shoes.
Bag.
Everything searched.
But nothing stolen.
Vincent stood in the doorway.
“Who knew Liam was your brother?”
“Enzo.”
“Anyone else?”
“The debt collector.”
“Name.”
“Reed.”
“Full name.”
“I don’t know.”
Vincent looked toward Enzo.
“Find him.”
Enzo nodded.
Norah bent down.
Something white was visible beneath the locker.
She reached for it.
Vincent caught her wrist.
“Don’t.”
He pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and used it to retrieve the object.
A folded note.
Three words were written across it.
WHERE IS IT?
Liam had told the truth.
Someone believed Norah possessed the evidence.
Vincent stared at the message.
Then his expression hardened.
Whoever had searched the locker was not outside the estate.
They were already inside.
May you like
And that meant one of Vincent’s own people was still working for Martin Vale.
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