Chapter 5 - THE DOCTOR WHO KNEW TOO MUCH
I wanted to go to the hospital.
Dominic said no.
I told him he was not my father, husband, supervisor, or legal guardian.
He said all four statements were correct.
Then told me no again.
I hated how reasonable his explanation was.
“Pierce accessed your child’s emergency-contact information.”
“I heard Grace.”
“He knows your address.”
“So does half the hospital.”
“He treated Enzo.”
“So did I.”
“He was on duty the night a man carrying evidence against Caruso died.”
“He died from internal injuries.”
Dominic looked at me.
“Are you certain?”
That shut me up.
I hated him for approximately six seconds.
Then I hated that I wasn’t certain.
Enzo had crashed.
He had significant injuries.
But Warren had controlled the case after I stabilized him.
Medications.
Orders.
Transfer decisions.
The official time of death.
I sat down.
“Oh God.”
Dominic’s voice softened.
“You didn’t know.”
“Stop.”
“I’m not trying to excuse anything.”
“I worked beside him.”
“I know.”
“Six years.”
“I know.”
“He gave Lily birthday presents.”
Dominic’s jaw tightened at that.
I noticed.
So did he.
“Don’t,” I said.
“What?”
“Make that face.”
“What face?”
“The face where you decide someone should disappear.”
“I don’t have that face.”
“You absolutely have that face.”
Lily entered.
“Mr. Dominic has lots of faces.”
He stared.
“Thank you, Lily.”
“You’re welcome.”
She walked to him carrying Mr. Buttons.
“Can you fix his ear?”
One seam had opened.
Dominic looked at me.
I shrugged.
Apparently mafia bosses could confront organized-crime conspiracies but feared stuffed-animal repair.
“I don’t know how.”
Lily looked disappointed.
Dominic immediately surrendered.
“Give him to me.”
He found a hotel sewing kit.
For ten minutes, the most feared man I had ever met sat beneath a crystal lamp repairing a stuffed rabbit.
Badly.
Lily supervised.
“Smaller stitches.”
Dominic looked at me.
“Is she always this demanding?”
“Yes.”
“She gets it from you.”
My pulse changed in an embarrassingly adolescent way.
I looked away.
Grace called again.
This time she was crying.
“Warren’s gone.”
“What?”
“Police came to speak to him. His locker is empty.”
“Car?”
“Gone.”
Dominic stood.
“Ask whether anyone else left.”
I repeated it.
Grace checked.
Then came back.
“Claire.”
“What?”
“There’s a pediatric nurse missing too.”
“Who?”
“Rebecca Sloan.”
I knew her.
Everyone did.
Rebecca had sometimes watched Lily when the daycare arrangement collapsed during overnight shifts.
My skin went cold.
“Why would she—”
Grace whispered:
“She accessed Lily’s chart yesterday.”
I closed my eyes.
Dominic took the phone.
“Grace, this is Moretti.”
A pause.
“Yes, that Moretti.”
Despite everything, I almost laughed.
He continued.
“Do not go home alone. Stay with security until police arrive.”
He hung up.
“You ordered my coworker around.”
“She seemed receptive.”
“She’s terrified of you.”
“Useful occasionally.”
“Not charming.”
“I wasn’t trying to be charming.”
“That may be your problem.”
His mouth curved.
Then one of his men entered.
“Dominic.”
The humor vanished.
“What?”
“Bellini didn’t show at the office.”
Of course.
Salvatore.
Warren.
Rebecca.
Three missing people after Adam’s files resurfaced.
Dominic turned toward me.
“They know.”
“How?”
“Someone told them we opened the box.”
“Who knew?”
“Police. Bank staff. My people.”
“And me.”
He looked at me.
“I am not considering you a leak.”
“How generous.”
“Claire.”
“Sorry.”
Fear made sarcasm automatic.
His man continued.
“There’s more. Bellini emptied two accounts.”
Dominic’s face hardened.
“How much?”
“Eight million.”
“Caruso?”
“Looks like it.”
Then Lily spoke from the rug.
“Peppermint man.”
Every adult stopped.
I looked at her.
“What?”
She pointed at Dominic’s man.
“He smells like peppermint.”
The guard looked confused.
“I chew gum.”
Lily nodded.
“Like the man at school.”
Dominic crouched.
“The shiny-ring man?”
She shook her head.
“No. The other one.”
My heart stopped.
“There was another man?”
Lily nodded.
“He stood by the big car.”
“What did he look like?”
She thought.
“Old.”
Dominic almost smiled.
“Old like me?”
“No.”
I covered my mouth.
The guard failed entirely.
Lily continued.
“White hair. Peppermint.”
Dominic’s expression changed.
“Did he talk to you?”
“No.”
“Did you see his face?”
“Yes.”
Dominic took out his phone.
He pulled up staff photographs.
One after another.
Lily shook her head.
Then:
“That one.”
Salvatore Bellini.
Dominic went absolutely still.
The traitor had been watching my daughter himself.
I felt my hands begin to shake.
Dominic stood.
“Rocco.”
“Yes.”
“Move Lily.”
I stepped between them.
“No.”
He looked at me.
“No one moves my child without telling me where.”
“Safe property north of the city.”
“Whose?”
“Mine.”
“No.”
“Claire.”
“She stays with me.”
“That makes both of you easier to find.”
“And separating us makes her terrified.”
Lily looked between us.
“I’m not scared.”
I knelt.
“You don’t have to be, baby.”
She whispered:
“Mr. Dominic’s scared.”
Silence.
Dominic looked at her.
“What makes you think that?”
“You get quiet.”
That landed.
Dominic looked away.
Lily understood him in four days better than most adults probably had in years.
Finally he said:
“You both go.”
“With you?”
“Yes.”
I nodded.
We left Manhattan before sunset.
The safe house turned out to be a stone property near Tarrytown overlooking the Hudson.
Not luxurious in the flashy sense.
Old.
Quiet.
Protected.
Lily loved it immediately because there was a swing.
I loved nothing about needing armed security.
That evening, after she fell asleep, Dominic found me on the back terrace.
“You should hate me.”
I looked at him.
“For what?”
“This came toward you because of my world.”
“No.”
He frowned.
“Adam found Caruso before I knew your name.”
“Bellini was mine.”
“Pierce was mine.”
“Your husband died because men around me were at war.”
“Adam died because he found evidence.”
I turned toward him.
“Don’t steal blame from the people who earned it.”
He studied me.
“You say uncomfortable things.”
“I work in emergency medicine. Comfort is rarely our opening strategy.”
He smiled faintly.
Then his expression softened.
“Lily told me something else at dinner.”
My stomach dropped.
“What now?”
“She said you keep Adam’s coffee mug.”
I looked away.
“She said sometimes you hold it.”
Heat touched my face.
“She talks too much.”
“She misses him.”
“So do I.”
“I know.”
“No, you don’t.”
He accepted that.
“You’re right.”
We stood quietly.
Then he said:
“My wife died twelve years ago.”
I turned.
“I didn’t know you were married.”
“Most people don’t.”
“What happened?”
“Cancer.”
Simple.
No mafia.
No bullets.
No conspiracy.
Sometimes death required no villain.
“I’m sorry.”
“She was twenty-eight.”
I swallowed.
“Adam was thirty-four.”
Dominic looked toward the river.
“I spent years thinking grief was a debt. If I stopped hurting, I was paying less than I owed.”
That hit too close.
“What changed?”
“Nothing dramatic.”
He looked at me.
“One morning I laughed.”
“At what?”
“My nephew fell into a fountain.”
I laughed.
“I felt guilty for three days.”
“That sounds exhausting.”
“It was.”
His hand rested near mine on the stone railing.
Not touching.
Close.
“I don’t think loving someone who died means agreeing to die slowly afterward.”
My throat tightened.
“Did Lily tell you to say that?”
“No.”
“She could have.”
“She’s intimidating.”
“She likes you.”
“I like her.”
I looked at him.
He added:
“I like her mother too.”
Everything inside me went still.
“Dominic.”
“I know.”
“Do you?”
“Yes.”
“My husband may have been murdered. Someone is tracking my daughter. Your chief adviser is apparently betraying you to another crime family.”
“When you list it like that, timing seems poor.”
I laughed despite myself.
He smiled.
Then headlights appeared beyond the gate.
Dominic’s smile disappeared.
No vehicle was scheduled.
Security moved.
One SUV accelerated toward the entrance.
Then another came from behind the tree line.
“Inside.”
Dominic grabbed my arm.
Gunfire cracked across the property.
I froze.
“Lily.”
“Rocco has her.”
“No!”
I ran.
Dominic stayed beside me.
Glass shattered behind us.
We reached the hallway.
Lily appeared at the top of the stairs in Rocco’s arms.
“Mommy!”
Relief hit so hard my knees weakened.
Then a side door exploded inward.
A man entered.
Dominic shoved me down.
A shot cracked.
He jerked.
“Dominic!”
Blood spread across his shirt near his shoulder.
He stayed standing.
Returned one shot toward the doorway.
The attacker disappeared.
Rocco shouted:
“Vehicle retreating!”
I grabbed Dominic.
“You’re hit.”
“Graze.”
“That is not a medical term.”
“It feels descriptive.”
“Sit down.”
“Claire—”
“I said sit.”
He sat.
Even Rocco looked impressed.
I pressed a towel against the wound.
Lily came close.
Her face pale.
“Mr. Dominic?”
He looked at her.
“I’m okay.”
She touched his sleeve.
Then frowned.
“Peppermint.”
Everyone stopped.
“What?”
She sniffed the air.
“Peppermint man.”
Rocco turned toward the broken side door.
A small silver gum wrapper lay near the threshold.
Dominic’s expression hardened.
Bellini had not merely found the safe house.
He had been inside.
May you like
And only six people had known where we were going.
One of them had arrived with us.
