Chapter 2 - The Brother Who Was Never Supposed to Talk
Khloe had imagined hundreds of reasons Liam might have been framed.
None of them included Elias Russo.
That was the problem.
For months, Brendan Gallagher had insisted Liam was nothing but collateral.
A stupid kid who got caught near the wrong car.
A convenient name Gallagher could use whenever Khloe resisted him.
But as she stood in the middle of her wrecked apartment holding an evidence tag marked with her brother’s case number, Khloe realized Liam had never been random.
Someone had chosen him.
And if the address on the back was real, someone had chosen him because of something connected to Elias.
“I need to see my brother.”
Elias looked at the tag.
“Tonight.”
“I said I need to see him.”
“I heard you.”
Khloe stepped toward him.
“You know people.”
“Yes.”
“You pay cops.”
“I did.”
“You own half the docks.”
“Not half.”
She stared at him.
“Are you really correcting me right now?”
His expression did not move.
“Bad habit.”
Khloe almost laughed from disbelief.
Instead, tears filled her eyes.
“My sister is missing.”
Elias’s face hardened.
“And that is why we cannot make noise yet.”
“She’s seventeen.”
“I know.”
“No, you don’t.”
Khloe moved closer.
“You don’t know anything about her.”
Elias didn’t step back.
“She hates algebra. She sleeps with the hallway light on when she’s scared. She pretends she doesn’t care about Liam because if she cries about him, she thinks I’ll break.”
Her voice weakened.
“And Gallagher knows all of that.”
Elias looked at Dominic.
“Can we get into Rikers?”
Dominic checked his phone.
“Not officially.”
Khloe looked between them.
Elias’s answer came immediately.
“I wasn’t asking officially.”
Forty-five minutes later, they were in a private conference room inside a correctional facility Khloe had spent months avoiding because every visit left her unable to sleep.
Liam Dawson was twenty.
He had been nineteen when he was arrested.
The boy who entered Rikers had been loud, sarcastic, skinny, and convinced every problem could be solved with enough confidence.
The young man who walked into the interview room that night looked older.
There was a small scar above his eyebrow.
His shoulders had hardened.
But when he saw Khloe, something in his face broke.
“Khlo?”
She stood.
He crossed the room and hugged her.
Khloe held him so tightly she could barely breathe.
“You okay?”
“What are you doing here?”
“Are you okay?”
“I’m fine.”
“Don’t lie to me.”
Liam pulled back.
Then he noticed Elias.
His face changed.
“No.”
Khloe saw it.
Not confusion.
Recognition.
“You know him?”
Liam stared at Elias.
Elias stared back.
“I’ve never met your brother.”
Liam laughed bitterly.
“That doesn’t mean I don’t know you.”
Khloe’s stomach tightened.
“Liam.”
He looked at her.
“What happened?”
“Maya’s gone.”
All the color left his face.
“What?”
“Gallagher took her.”
Liam slammed both hands onto the table.
“No.”
“Sit down.”
“No, no, no.”
“Liam!”
“He said he wouldn’t touch her.”
Khloe froze.
“What?”
Liam’s eyes closed.
Khloe stepped closer.
“What did you just say?”
“He said if I kept quiet, he’d leave you both alone.”
Silence.
Khloe whispered.
“Kept quiet about what?”
Liam looked at Elias.
“His trucks.”
Elias’s expression sharpened.
“What trucks?”
Liam sat.
His hands shook.
“Eight months ago, before I got arrested, I was working nights at a towing yard in Brooklyn.”
Khloe knew that.
What she didn’t know was why Liam had suddenly quit.
“One night,” he continued, “Gallagher showed up with two guys. They brought in a van. No plates.”
Elias said nothing.
“The van had Russo Logistics paperwork in the glove compartment.”
Elias’s eyes narrowed.
“Continue.”
Liam swallowed.
“I wasn’t supposed to be in the back lot, but I heard something from inside.”
Khloe felt cold.
“What?”
“Someone crying.”
Khloe’s hand covered her mouth.
Liam looked at the table.
“It was a girl.”
Elias’s jaw tightened.
“Age?”
“I don’t know. Maybe sixteen. Maybe eighteen.”
Khloe’s knees weakened.
Liam continued.
“I called Gallagher because I thought he was handling the vehicle.”
“You called the cop who brought it there?”
“I didn’t know he brought it.”
Liam looked at Khloe.
“He showed up ten minutes later and told me I was confused. Said the van was evidence.”
Elias’s voice was flat.
“And then?”
“I saw another man behind him.”
“Who?”
Liam hesitated.
“I never knew his name.”
“Describe him.”
“Older. Bald. Gray coat. Scar along his chin.”
Dominic, standing near the wall, went still.
Elias noticed.
“You know him.”
Dominic nodded.
“Viktor Malkin.”
The name meant nothing to Khloe.
But it meant something to Elias.
“A broker,” Elias said.
Dominic nodded.
“East European network. We shut him out of the waterfront three years ago.”
Liam leaned forward.
“Gallagher told me to forget the van. I didn’t.”
“What did you do?”
“I copied the registration slip and took pictures.”
Elias’s gaze hardened.
“Where are they?”
Liam looked at Khloe.
“I gave them to someone.”
“Who?”
“Dad.”
Khloe blinked.
“Our father?”
“He was alive then.”
Their father, Michael Dawson, had died seven months earlier from what doctors called a sudden heart attack.
Khloe had never questioned it.
Until that moment.
Liam continued.
“Dad said he knew someone in Internal Affairs.”
Khloe shook her head.
“He never said anything.”
“He was trying to protect you.”
“From what?”
“Gallagher.”
Liam’s voice dropped.
“Dad knew him.”
Khloe stared.
“What do you mean?”
“Gallagher used to work with him.”
Their father had been a city bus mechanic.
At least that was what Khloe had always believed.
“What are you talking about?”
Liam’s eyes filled with regret.
“Dad wasn’t always a mechanic.”
Khloe said nothing.
“He was NYPD.”
The room changed.
Elias slowly leaned back.
Khloe stared at her brother.
“No.”
“Before we were born.”
“No.”
“He left after some corruption investigation went bad.”
Khloe felt dizzy.
“Why didn’t he tell us?”
“Because one of the officers involved was Gallagher’s uncle.”
Khloe’s voice became a whisper.
“So Gallagher knew Dad.”
“Yeah.”
“And he framed you because of a van?”
“Not only the van.”
Liam looked at Elias.
“He wanted what Dad had.”
Elias’s attention sharpened.
“What did Michael have?”
“A ledger.”
Dominic stepped forward.
“What ledger?”
Liam shrugged.
“I never saw it. Dad just said it connected cops, dock companies, and a bunch of shell businesses.”
Elias’s face darkened.
“My businesses?”
“I don’t know.”
“Think.”
“I don’t know!”
Khloe put a hand on Liam’s shoulder.
“What happened after Dad took the photos?”
“He called me two days later and said he had enough to reopen something from twenty years ago.”
“What?”
“He wouldn’t say.”
Liam paused.
“Three days later, Dad died.”
Khloe sat down.
She remembered that day.
Her father collapsing in the garage.
Gallagher arriving at the hospital before any detective had a reason to be there.
Offering sympathy.
Offering help.
Offering Khloe his card.
She had thought he was kind.
The memory made her sick.
Elias looked at Dominic.
“Get Michael Dawson’s death file.”
“I’m on it.”
Liam leaned forward.
“There’s more.”
Khloe looked at him.
“Gallagher visited me last week.”
Her heart dropped.
“What did he want?”
“The ledger.”
“Do you know where it is?”
Liam shook his head.
“I told him Dad never told me.”
“Did he believe you?”
“No.”
“What did he say?”
Liam’s jaw tightened.
“He said he’d ask Maya.”
Khloe closed her eyes.
That explained everything.
Maya wasn’t only leverage.
Gallagher thought she knew where the ledger was.
Elias stood.
“Khloe, we have to go.”
She turned to Liam.
“I’m getting you out.”
He gave her a tired smile.
“You can’t promise that.”
“Yes, I can.”
“Khlo—”
“I’m getting you out.”
Liam reached for her hand.
Then his eyes dropped to her bruised wrist.
His expression changed.
“What did he do?”
Khloe covered it.
“Nothing.”
“Don’t do that.”
“Liam.”
“Did Gallagher do that?”
She didn’t answer.
Liam pushed away from the table.
“I’m going to kill him.”
“You’re not going anywhere.”
“He touched you?”
“Liam, stop.”
Elias stepped forward.
“Your sister needs you alive.”
Liam looked at him with disgust.
“You don’t get to talk about my sister.”
“No.”
Elias’s voice remained even.
“But I understand what happens when anger makes decisions.”
Something about the way he said it silenced the room.
For the first time, Khloe wondered what Elias Russo had lost.
A guard knocked.
Time.
Khloe hugged Liam again.
At the door, he called after her.
“Khlo.”
She turned.
“Dad left something for you.”
Her chest tightened.
“What?”
“A key.”
“What key?”
“I don’t know. It was taped under the old piano bench.”
Their father’s piano still sat in the apartment.
Khloe stared.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Because Dad said only tell you if Gallagher ever mentioned Pier 19.”
Elias went still.
Khloe looked at him.
“Why?”
Liam’s eyes moved between them.
“Because Dad said Pier 19 was where the whole thing started.”
They returned to Queens before dawn.
Dominic had men watching the building.
Khloe ignored the overturned chair and went straight to the old upright piano in the corner.
She knelt.
Her hands searched beneath the bench.
Nothing.
Then her fingers touched tape.
She pulled.
A small brass key came free.
Attached was a paper tag.
Only three words.
GRAND CENTRAL. 618.
Elias looked at Dominic.
“Locker.”
Twenty minutes later, they entered Grand Central Terminal.
Locker 618 sat in a row near the lower concourse.
Khloe inserted the key.
Turned it.
The door opened.
Inside sat a small black case.
Khloe pulled it out.
Elias stood beside her.
Dominic checked the hallway.
Khloe opened the case.
Inside was a flash drive.
A photograph of her father in a police uniform.
And a folded note.
Khloe opened it.
Her father’s handwriting.
If you are reading this, Brendan Gallagher has already decided that protecting himself matters more than protecting you.
Trust evidence, not badges.
Trust Elias Russo only after he tells you what happened to his brother.
Khloe slowly turned toward Elias.
For the first time since she had met him, the mafia boss looked afraid.
Not of Gallagher.
Of the question.
Khloe held up the note.
“What happened to your brother?”
Elias stared at the photograph.
Then at her.
“My brother disappeared twenty-one years ago.”
Khloe waited.
Elias’s voice dropped.
May you like
“And your father was the last police officer known to have seen him alive.”
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