THE LIGHT IN THE THIRD-FLOOR WINDOW
Alex did not tell Dominic about the photograph.
For forty-eight hours she convinced herself this was reasonable.
By Friday morning, she knew it was stupid.
She kept the picture inside the locked drawer beneath Marlow’s cash register.
Every time somebody entered the diner, she looked up too quickly.
Every unfamiliar customer became suspicious.
Every car that slowed near the front window tightened something in her chest.
Bobby noticed.
“You’re jumpy.”
“I drank too much coffee.”
“You always drink too much coffee.”
“Then I’m consistently jumpy.”
Bobby wiped the counter.
“Is this about Russo?”
Alex looked at him.
“Why would it be?”
“Because he hasn’t been here.”
“It’s been one Tuesday.”
“You’ve checked the door every nine seconds since.”
“I have not.”
Bobby looked toward the clock.
Alex followed his eyes.
The clock still said 11:47.
“Very scientific.”
“I’m observant.”
“You’re annoying.”
“That too.”
The bell rang.
Alex’s heart jumped.
It was a delivery driver.
She hated herself for the disappointment.
At 10:20 that night, Dominic finally appeared.
Two men followed him.
His expression was darker than usual.
Alex walked toward his booth.
“You’re late.”
“It’s Friday.”
“You’re three days late.”
One eyebrow lifted.
“I didn’t know attendance was mandatory.”
“It isn’t.”
“You sound disappointed.”
“I sound like someone who needs your receipts.”
“Of course.”
He handed her a folder.
Alex reached for it.
Dominic did not release it.
Their fingers touched.
His eyes narrowed.
“What happened?”
“Nothing.”
“You’re lying.”
“You don’t know me well enough to know when I’m lying.”
“I know you rub your thumb against the edge of your index finger when you’re nervous.”
Alex immediately stopped doing it.
Dominic’s expression became dangerous.
“What happened?”
She looked toward his men.
“Coffee first.”
“Alex.”
“Coffee.”
He released the folder.
Ten minutes later they were inside Bobby’s tiny office.
Alex locked the door.
She opened the drawer.
Placed the photograph on the desk.
Dominic’s face changed.
It happened gradually.
The warmth disappeared first.
Then whatever remained behind his eyes turned cold.
Very cold.
“Who gave you this?”
“I don’t know.”
“When?”
“Tuesday.”
Dominic looked at her.
“You waited three days?”
“I was thinking.”
“No.”
His voice was quiet.
“You were hiding it.”
“From you.”
“Yes.”
“That was intentional.”
“Why?”
Alex folded her arms.
“Because I knew you’d do exactly what you’re doing now.”
“What am I doing?”
“Thinking about who you’re going to hurt.”
His jaw tightened.
“You have no idea what I’m thinking.”
“I’ve seen that expression.”
“Where?”
“On documentaries about sharks.”
Dominic almost smiled.
Almost.
Then he picked up the photograph.
“You should’ve called.”
“I don’t have your number.”
Dominic stared at her.
“You have six of my accountants’ numbers.”
“That isn’t the same thing.”
He pulled out his phone.
“What’s yours?”
“No.”
His stare sharpened.
“Alex.”
“You don’t get my number because somebody sent me a creepy picture.”
“You get mine.”
He held out his phone.
She hesitated.
Dominic waited.
Alex took it.
Entered her number.
His phone immediately called hers.
Her purse vibrated.
“There.”
“What name did you put yourself under?”
“Dominic.”
“How original.”
“Would you prefer Your Majesty?”
“I was thinking Tuesday Coffee Problem.”
For the first time that night, he laughed.
The moment passed quickly.
He looked at the photograph again.
“Did you see anyone unusual?”
Alex told him about the man in the gray sedan.
Description.
Time.
Direction.
Dominic listened without interrupting.
When she finished, he called one of his men.
“Marco.”
The door opened instantly.
“Find the gray sedan from Tuesday night.”
Marco took the photograph.
His expression hardened.
“Who?”
“Don’t know.”
“I’ll find out.”
Dominic looked at him.
“Quietly.”
Marco nodded.
“And nobody touches anybody unless I say so.”
Alex looked at Dominic.
He noticed.
“Happy?”
“Slightly.”
Marco left.
Dominic leaned against the desk.
“You need protection.”
“No.”
“That wasn’t a question.”
“And that’s why the answer is no.”
“Alex.”
“I’m not walking around with two guys in black suits.”
“They have other clothes.”
“I’m delighted.”
“This isn’t funny.”
“I know.”
For the first time her voice shook.
Dominic stopped.
Alex looked down.
“I know it isn’t funny.”
Something softened in him.
“I didn’t bring this into your life intentionally.”
“You still brought it.”
“Yes.”
That answer mattered.
No denial.
No manipulation.
Just truth.
Dominic always gave her uncomfortable truths when easy lies would have worked better.
“Maybe you should stop coming here,” she said.
He went still.
“For a while.”
Dominic looked toward the closed office door.
“Is that what you want?”
Alex wanted to say yes.
The sensible answer was yes.
Instead she said, “I don’t know.”
Dominic nodded slowly.
“That’s fair.”
No argument.
No threat.
He left through the rear door that night.
For the next two weeks, he stayed away.
Alex hated how relieved she felt.
She hated even more how empty the back booth looked.
Tuesday nights became ordinary again.
She should have been grateful.
Instead she began noticing stupid things.
The coffee pot stayed fuller.
Bobby complained there were fewer customers because Dominic’s men no longer over-tipped.
Mrs. Keller asked where “the handsome criminal” had gone.
Alex nearly dropped a plate.
Then, on the third Tuesday, a handwritten note appeared beneath the sugar jar in the back booth.
Alex recognized Dominic’s handwriting from tax forms.
No flowers.
No dramatic declaration.
Only seven words.
YOU WERE RIGHT. I’M STAYING AWAY.
Below that:
BUT I MISS THE TERRIBLE COFFEE.
Alex stood there staring at it for nearly a minute.
She smiled.
Then she noticed a second piece of paper beneath the note.
A photocopy of a bank transfer.
Two million dollars.
A company name she did not recognize.
And an accounting code that made her blood run cold.
Because Alex had seen that code before.
Inside Dominic Russo’s books.
May you like
Somebody was moving money out of his organization.
And judging by the amount, they had been doing it for years.
Related Stories
Chapter 4 - The Black SUV Across the Street
Chapter 5 - Numbers That Could Get Her Killed
Chapter 6 - Six Months of Silence
Chapter 7 - The Night the Deal Went Wrong
Chapter 8 - You Belong With Me
Chapter 9 - The Price of Wanting Something Real
