Chapter 10 - The Stranger at the Diner
Alex returned to Marlow’s against Dominic’s wishes.
Not secretly.
That would have been impossible.
She simply informed him.
“I’m going to work.”
“No.”
“I wasn’t requesting permission.”
“You’ve been threatened repeatedly.”
“And disappearing tells Victor I’m scared.”
“You are scared.”
“Of course I’m scared.”
Dominic stopped.
Alex rarely admitted fear.
She touched his hand.
“But I need one normal day.”
Dominic eventually agreed under conditions.
Marco inside.
Two plainclothes men outside.
Dominic nowhere visible.
At 8:15 Tuesday morning, Alex stepped behind Marlow’s counter.
Bobby hugged her.
Then complained she had missed payroll reconciliation.
Normal.
Beautifully normal.
For four hours nothing happened.
At 12:23 p.m., an elderly man entered.
Gray coat.
Cane.
Silver hair.
Alex had never seen him.
He sat in Dominic’s back booth.
Marco immediately noticed.
The old man ordered tea.
When Alex brought it, he said, “You use green ink.”
She froze.
“Excuse me?”
“Elena used blue.”
Marco stood.
The old man lifted one hand.
“If I meant her harm, she’d never have seen me.”
“That is not reassuring,” Alex said.
The stranger smiled.
“You sound exactly as Dominic described.”
Marco approached.
“Name.”
“Samuel Grayson.”
Marco’s face hardened.
Alex stared.
“Grayson?”
“Salvatore is my younger brother.”
That brought Dominic through the kitchen door thirty seconds later.
Apparently “nowhere visible” had meant twenty feet away.
Samuel looked at him.
“Michael’s boy.”
Dominic stopped beside the booth.
“Don’t call me that.”
“You have his eyes.”
“Why are you here?”
Samuel stirred his tea.
“Because Salvatore is dead.”
Silence.
Dominic sat.
“When?”
“Last night.”
“How?”
“Heart attack.”
“You expect me to believe that?”
“No.”
Samuel looked toward Alex.
“I expect her to look at numbers.”
Alex sat reluctantly.
Samuel placed an envelope on the table.
Inside were medical records and bank statements.
Alex reviewed them.
Salvatore had received regular payments from Briar Holdings.
Then, two months earlier, payments stopped.
Yesterday, hours before his death, a new transfer arrived.
One dollar.
“Why one dollar?” Alex asked.
Samuel looked at Dominic.
“Victor’s signature.”
Dominic’s expression darkened.
“When Victor wanted somebody to know their usefulness had ended, he sent one dollar.”
“You knew?”
“My brother knew.”
“Then why didn’t he tell me?”
“Pride.”
Samuel’s mouth tightened.
“And guilt.”
“What was Salvatore guilty of?”
Samuel stared into his tea.
“Helping Victor create the war that killed your father.”
Dominic went still.
Alex felt the temperature drop.
Samuel continued.
“Michael Russo was planning to remove Victor from the organization.”
“Why?”
“He discovered the accounts.”
“Briar?”
“An earlier version.”
Samuel looked toward Alex.
“Your father’s accountant found irregularities.”
Dominic’s voice was dangerously quiet.
“Who?”
“Thomas Mercer.”
Alex stopped breathing.
The diner disappeared.
“What did you say?”
Samuel looked at her.
“Thomas Mercer.”
“My father’s name was Thomas Mercer.”
Dominic turned toward Alex.
She looked pale.
“My father died when I was twelve.”
“How?”
“Car accident.”
Samuel closed his eyes.
“No.”
Alex’s hands began shaking.
“No what?”
“It wasn’t an accident.”
Dominic stood.
“Careful.”
Samuel looked at him.
“I came because enough children have paid for our generation’s sins.”
He turned back to Alex.
“Your father worked for Michael Russo.”
“That’s impossible.”
“He was an independent accountant.”
“For several clients. One was Michael.”
Alex remembered her father’s office.
Boxes.
Receipts.
Green pens.
Her green pens.
She had started using them because he did.
“He found Victor’s theft,” Samuel said. “He made copies.”
“What happened?”
“Victor found out.”
Alex’s eyes filled.
Dominic looked sick.
“My father…”
His voice failed.
Samuel nodded.
“Michael tried to protect Thomas. That’s why Victor needed Michael gone too.”
Alex stood so quickly the table shook.
“No.”
She walked toward the kitchen.
Dominic followed.
“Alex.”
“Don’t.”
“I didn’t know.”
“I know.”
“Alex.”
She turned.
Tears stood in her eyes.
“Your world killed my father.”
Dominic absorbed the words.
He did not defend himself.
“My father tried to protect him.”
“Your father brought him into it.”
“Yes.”
That honesty made the anger worse.
She pressed both hands against the counter.
“I spent twenty years thinking my father fell asleep behind the wheel.”
Dominic stood six feet away.
He did not touch her.
“I’m sorry.”
“It doesn’t fix anything.”
“I know.”
Samuel appeared in the doorway.
“There may be proof.”
Alex looked up.
“Where?”
“Thomas kept a duplicate ledger.”
“Victor never found it?”
“No.”
“Where is it?”
Samuel looked at her.
“He gave it to Elena Russo.”
Dominic understood.
“My mother.”
“Elena hid it after Michael died.”
“Where?”
Samuel shook his head.
“I don’t know.”
Alex suddenly remembered something from the stone house.
Elena’s piano.
The brass key.
The grandfather clock.
And a photograph she had seen inside the bench.
Elena standing beside Thomas Mercer.
Alex’s father.
Both holding the same green accounting ledger.
She had thought nothing of it.
Now it meant everything.
Before she could speak, the diner window exploded inward.
Dominic pulled Alex down.
Marco moved.
Customers screamed.
There was no second shot.
No attack.
Only a brick lying among broken glass.
A note was tied around it.
Dominic opened the paper.
Three words.
TIME IS OVER.
May you like
And beneath them:
BRING ME ELENA’S BOOK.
