Chapter 8 - The Dinner That Became a Trap
Thomas Mercer had disappeared nine years earlier.
Officially retired.
Unofficially nobody knew.
Roman spent two days locating him.
Daniel Price, the federal prosecutor, found him first.
Mercer was living under another name in Wisconsin.
That should have comforted me.
It didn’t.
Especially when Daniel explained that Mercer had agreed to speak only if Roman came without his men.
“No,” Lily said.
We were in Roman’s study.
It had become our unofficial war room.
Roman looked at her.
“No?”
“You’re not going.”
“I need answers.”
“You told me not to do dangerous things.”
“This is different.”
“Because you’re you?”
Roman opened his mouth.
Closed it.
I smiled.
“She’s learning.”
“This is your fault.”
“Definitely.”
Daniel arranged the meeting at a federal building.
Public.
Secured.
Boring.
Roman hated it.
Which meant I loved it.
Mercer was seventy-two.
Thin.
White hair.
Shaking hands.
He looked nothing like the monster Sophia had described.
Perhaps that was the point.
Roman sat across from him.
I waited behind mirrored glass with Daniel and Lily.
Mercer began with Elena.
“She came to me because she found records Vincent hid.”
Roman’s voice came through the speaker.
“What records?”
“Payments.”
“For what?”
“Judges. Inspectors. Police. Competitors.”
Daniel’s expression tightened.
Roman asked, “My father authorized them?”
“Some.”
“And the others?”
“Vincent.”
Roman leaned forward.
“Why did Elena care?”
“Because the money continued after your father died.”
“From my accounts?”
“Yes.”
“How?”
“Shell companies. Vincent made it look like old obligations.”
Roman stared.
“Elena found them.”
“She found more.”
Mercer’s hands shook harder.
“What?”
“Evidence Vincent wasn’t just stealing from you.”
A pause.
“He was building his own organization underneath yours.”
Roman’s face went cold.
“How long?”
“Years.”
“Did he kill Elena?”
Mercer looked down.
“I don’t know.”
Roman’s voice sharpened.
“Look at me.”
Mercer did.
“Did Vincent kill my sister?”
“I know he ordered someone to follow her.”
Lily covered her mouth.
I put an arm around her.
Mercer continued.
“The night she died, she was bringing evidence to me.”
Roman stopped breathing.
“She never arrived.”
“Who followed her?”
“I don’t know.”
“Then what do you know?”
Mercer reached inside his jacket.
Security immediately moved.
He froze.
“It’s paper.”
They searched him.
Then allowed him to place a folded document on the table.
A photocopied shipping manifest.
One company name had been circled.
CARUSO FREIGHT SOLUTIONS.
“Elena told me if something happened,” Mercer said, “the original ledger would prove everything.”
“Where?”
“She didn’t tell me.”
Roman’s fist tightened.
“Then you’re useless.”
Mercer looked toward the mirror.
Toward us.
“She said the girl knew.”
Lily stiffened.
Roman stood.
“This meeting is over.”
He walked out.
When he entered our room, Lily looked terrified.
“I don’t know where it is.”
Roman crouched.
“I know.”
“I swear.”
“I know.”
“She didn’t tell me.”
“I believe you.”
Lily started crying.
Roman held her.
And something shifted again.
Instead of demanding information, he simply stayed.
That evening Sophia insisted on proceeding with a family dinner previously planned for Vincent’s birthday.
I thought she was insane.
Roman agreed.
Which confirmed insanity might be genetic.
“We cancel,” I said.
Roman adjusted his cuff.
“Vincent will know we suspect him.”
“He already stole a recipe box.”
“He thinks we haven’t connected it.”
“You don’t know that.”
“No.”
“Why take the risk?”
“Because I want to watch him.”
“You have surveillance cameras.”
“I want him comfortable.”
I stared at Roman’s suit.
Then realized.
“You’re setting a trap.”
“Not exactly.”
“That’s what people say before traps.”
Roman looked at me.
“You don’t have to attend.”
“Are you kidding? Someone has to stop you from declaring war over appetizers.”
His mouth curved.
“Fake girlfriend?”
“Temporary public nuisance.”
“Close enough.”
At dinner Vincent was charming.
Too charming.
He complimented my dress.
Asked about the bakery.
Told Lily he had bought her a birthday gift early.
Lily barely responded.
Roman played his role perfectly.
Relaxed.
Warm.
Almost affectionate.
His hand rested lightly at my back as we crossed the room.
I knew it was performance.
My body apparently had not received that information.
At one point he leaned down.
“Smile.”
“I am smiling.”
“You look like you want to poison Vincent.”
“That is my smile.”
His lips twitched.
“Convincing.”
Vincent watched us.
That was the purpose.
Later I went to the kitchen for water.
On my way back I heard voices behind the library door.
Vincent.
Another man.
“…girl remembers more than Roman thinks.”
I stopped.
“She’s sixteen,” the second man said.
“Sixteen is old enough to cause problems.”
“What about the baker?”
My blood went cold.
Vincent laughed softly.
“Temporary.”
I stepped backward.
The floor creaked.
Silence.
Then the library door handle moved.
I ran.
Not dramatically.
Not heroically.
I walked very quickly until I turned the corner.
Then Roman appeared.
He saw my face.
“What happened?”
“Don’t react.”
His expression changed instantly.
I grabbed his jacket.
“Roman, listen to me.”
I told him.
Every word.
He didn’t move.
That was when the library door opened.
Vincent stepped into the hall.
He saw us.
Roman’s arm slid around my waist.
His face transformed into calm affection.
Vincent smiled.
“Everything all right?”
Roman looked at me.
For anyone watching, we were simply a couple having a private moment.
“Perfect,” Roman said.
Vincent walked away.
Only after he disappeared did I feel Roman’s hand trembling against my side.
Not with fear.
With rage.
“We leave,” he whispered.
“What about Lily?”
“Already moving.”
“You planned an exit?”
“I plan everything.”
Five minutes later we were in the car.
Lily sat between Sophia and me.
Roman rode in front.
Halfway to the mansion his phone rang.
He answered.
Listened.
Then turned toward us.
His face was pale.
“What?” I asked.
May you like
Roman looked directly at me.
“Someone just entered Honey & Rye.”
