Chương 9
“It probably was.”
Claire shrugged helplessly.
“He also said if he ran, Vale would assume he was talking.”
Ethan frowned.
“Was he talking?”
“Not yet.”
I looked back at the letter.
The final pages explained what came next.
Ortega had spent eighteen months tracing money.
My father had met with Julian three more times without telling my mother.
The meetings were documented with dates and locations.
One at a diner in Fredericksburg.
One at a motel outside Baltimore.
One in a hospital cafeteria near Washington.
Each time, Julian had brought information.
Account numbers.
Corporate names.
Copies of wire instructions.
Not enough for an arrest.
Enough to build a map.
Then, abruptly, the meetings stopped.
The final entry was dated nine years earlier.
Three weeks before my father died from a heart attack.
Julian failed to appear.
No contact since.
At the bottom, my father had written one line.
If Julian disappears completely, assume Vale discovered something.
I read it again.
My phone vibrated.
The unknown number.
This time the message was longer.
Your father was right about Vale.
He was wrong about me.
I showed the message to Claire.
She frowned.
“Who is this?”
A second message arrived before I could answer.
Julian was supposed to help expose Charles.
He chose Victoria instead.
A third followed.
And Victoria made sure he never saw Elena's messages.
My mother whispered, “Samuel.”
I looked at her.
“What?”
“The investigator.”
She pointed at the old business card.
“Samuel Ortega.”
I stared at the number.
“You think this is him?”
“He's the only other person who knew all of it.”
I called.
The line rang twice.
A man answered.
His voice sounded older, roughened by years and perhaps cigarettes.
“Elena.”
My grip tightened.
“You know who I am.”
“Yes.”
“Then you know I don't appreciate anonymous threats.”
“That wasn't a threat.”
“You told me not to make you regret staying quiet.”
“Fair.”
He coughed.
“That sounded worse than I intended.”
“Who are you?”
“Samuel Ortega.”
My mother closed her eyes.
I switched to speaker.
“Why now?”
“Because I watched the tournament.”
Of course.
Everyone had watched the tournament.
“And?”
“And I saw Julian look at those boys.”
His voice softened.
“I knew the secret was over.”
“What secret?”
There was a pause.
“Not the twins.”
Something cold moved through me.
“What then?”
“Why Julian really stayed with Victoria.”
I looked at my sons.
Leo was staring at the phone.
Ethan held his medal so tightly the ribbon cut into his fingers.
“Tell me.”
“Now.”
“No.”
My anger sharpened.
“You don't get to decide that.”
“I do if you want evidence instead of another family story.”
I looked at the clock.
Marissa sounded the horn again.
“I have to leave.”
“I know.”
“How?”
“Because your briefing was moved.”
Every muscle in my body tightened.
“How do you know that?”
He exhaled slowly.
“Because the thing your Pentagon people are briefing tonight is connected to Charles Vale.”
For a moment, nobody in my mother's living room moved.
Samuel Ortega's voice came through the phone with the faint crackle of distance.
I looked at the clock again.
“Connected how?”
“Not over an open line.”
“You called me.”
“I called because if I had waited until tomorrow, you would have walked into that briefing without knowing your family is part of the file.”
My stomach tightened.
“Whose file?”
“Vale's.”
General Avery's briefing suddenly stopped being an escape.
It became another room Julian had somehow reached before me.
“What exactly is the Pentagon looking at?”
“I said not over the phone.”
“You know my clearance.”
“I know more about your clearance than I should.”
“That is not reassuring.”
“It wasn't meant to be.”
Leo stood and came closer.
“Ask him if Julian is in trouble.”
I looked at my son.
Samuel heard him anyway.
“Julian has been in trouble for thirteen years.”
Leo's face hardened.
“That isn't an answer.”
“No.”
Samuel sounded tired.
“It isn't.”
Ethan leaned toward the phone.
“Are you the guy who sent the creepy messages?”
My mother closed her eyes.
Samuel was silent for half a second.
“Yes.”
“They were creepy.”
“I've been informed.”
“By who?”
“Your mother.”
“I like her.”
“Ethan.”
“What?”
Samuel coughed again.
Then his voice changed.
Less guarded.
“Your grandfather liked you boys before he met you.”
Neither twin spoke.
I felt the sentence move through the room.
My father had died when they were four.
They remembered him only in fragments.
A red baseball cap.
Peppermint candies.
The way he let them put toy dinosaurs in the bathtub while he shaved.
“You knew Grandpa?” Leo asked.
“Well enough to lose arguments to him.”
“That doesn't narrow it down,” Claire said.
Samuel laughed once.
“So you're there too.”
Claire folded her arms.
“You could have called years ago.”
“I could have.”
“Why didn't you?”
“Because your father told me not to.”
“And you listen to dead people?”
“More than living ones lately.”
My mother whispered, “Samuel.”
His humor disappeared.
“Ruth.”
It was the first time he had said her name.
Something passed across my mother's face that I did not understand.
Not affection.
Not exactly.
Recognition mixed with shame.
I filed that away too.
“Where are you?” I asked.
“Virginia.”
“Specific.”
“Retired people enjoy mystery.”
“No, retired investigators enjoy control.”
“That too.”
“I have to leave for Washington.”
“I know.”
“You keep saying that.”
“Because your schedule is part of why I contacted you now.”
My patience snapped.
“If you have information relevant to a Pentagon briefing, you contact the proper authorities.”
“I tried that nine years ago.”
The room went quiet.
“What happened?”
“Your father died.”
“That was not the question.”
“No.”
Samuel paused.
“The person I was supposed to meet canceled.”
“Who?”
“Samuel.”
“Elena, listen carefully.”
His tone hardened enough that even Leo stopped moving.
“Charles Vale is not a cartoon villain in a dark room.”
“I didn't think he was.”
May you like
“Good.”
“He's an old man with lawyers, board seats, political donors, retired regulators on consulting contracts, and enough people who owe him favors that nobody is ever sure where influence ends and coincidence begins.”
