Chương 5
“Good.”
“The other payments were larger. They went to Morrow and two officers in the organized crime unit. Gabriel believed they were selling shipment schedules to a rival group and then arranging police seizures when it benefited them.”
“What was being shipped?”
“Sometimes cigarettes. Sometimes stolen pharmaceuticals. Sometimes nothing illegal at all.”
“Sometimes?”
Nathaniel’s gaze hardened. “I am not asking you to admire me.”
“That would be a long night.”
“Gabriel copied records. Before he could bring them to me, he took my car to meet an attorney. Morrow followed him.”
“You said the crash was an attack.”
“Morrow forced him off the road. When Gabriel survived the impact, Morrow approached the car.”
“With the ring.”
“Yes.”
“How do you know?”
“Gabriel remembers pieces. A gray coat. The ring against the window. Brutus attacking through broken glass.”
Wren’s hands went cold.
The memory returned in flashes: the mastiff bleeding from his muzzle, a man backing away, another car’s headlights disappearing through rain. She had run from the bus stop because she thought someone was trapped. She had found Gabriel half outside the driver’s door, his face gray, Brutus pinned behind him.
“Why didn’t Morrow finish it?”
“You arrived.”
“I didn’t see his face clearly.”
“He did not know that.”
“And he let me call 911.”
“He believed the officers he controlled would erase your statement. They did.”
“Then what changed?”
“My brother changed.”
Nathaniel turned the medal with one finger.
“Gabriel spent three months in a hospital. He had surgeries, infections, memory loss. He could not speak for weeks. When he recovered enough to understand what had happened, he refused to cooperate with me.”
“Why?”
“He blamed me.”
“Was he wrong?”
Nathaniel looked toward the river.
That was the first question he did not answer immediately.
“No,” he said at last.
Wren watched his reflection in the dark glass. His posture remained straight, but his hand had closed around the edge of the counter.
“Gabriel left Rhode Island,” he continued. “He spent four years in a rehabilitation community under another name. Last winter, one of the men involved in the port scheme died. Gabriel decided to testify.”
“To whom?”
“A federal prosecutor in Massachusetts.”
“Why Massachusetts?”
“Some of the payments crossed state lines. The prosecutor had no history with Providence police.”
“And Morrow found out.”
“He found out someone had reopened the records. He killed the attorney Gabriel met the night of the crash.”
Wren’s mouth went dry. “When?”
“Three weeks ago.”
“How?”
“An apparent overdose.”
“You said killed.”
“The attorney had been sober for eleven years.”
“That isn’t proof.”
“No.”
The quiet answer carried something close to approval.
Nathaniel continued, “The attorney’s office had requested old emergency intake logs. Your name appeared. Morrow learned someone was looking for the missing witness statement.”
“And you learned too.”
“Yes.”
“From the prosecutor?”
“From someone who works near her.”
“So you have people inside that office too.”
“I have people who tell me when my brother may be killed.”
Wren pushed the untouched water away.
“You could have warned me.”
“I tried.”
“No, you watched me. You arranged a fake date. You put me in front of him.”
“I believed a direct warning would send you to the local police, where Morrow would learn exactly what you remembered and where you had gone.”
“I did not remember anything until I saw the medal.”
Nathaniel’s eyes moved to it.
“That,” Wren said, “was your plan.”
His silence answered.
“You brought the dog.”
“Brutus insisted on coming.”
“You brought the medal.”
“It never leaves his collar.”
“You placed me in the same room with the only two things that might force my memory back.”
“Yes.”
She stood.
Brutus stood with her.
Nathaniel remained where he was. “Where are you going?”
“Home.”
“You cannot.”
“I can.”
“Morrow knows your address.”
“So do you. Apparently everybody gets a key except me.”
“Wren.”
The way he said her name stopped her—not from authority, but because it was the first time he had used it.
She looked at him.
“If you leave alone,” he said, “I will follow you.”
“That sounds like a threat.”
“It is a description.”
“You don’t get to decide where I sleep.”
“No. I decide whether the man who shot at you gets another unobstructed opportunity.”
“Listen to yourself.”
“I have been listening to myself for thirty-nine years. It has not improved me.”
She stared at him.
A door opened down the hall. Dahlia returned wearing an oversized gray sweatshirt and black drawstring pants. Her blonde hair had been pulled into a loose knot. Without the floral dress and gold hoops, she looked younger and far more frightened.
“I vote we don’t go home,” Dahlia said.
“You live across town.”
“Celeste has my address too.”
Nathaniel picked up his phone. “Your apartment will be watched.”
Dahlia looked offended. “Was it not already?”
“No.”
“Somehow that hurts.”
Wren rubbed the cut near her thumb. “I need my medication.”
Nathaniel’s attention sharpened. “What medication?”
“Iron pills. It’s not dramatic.”
“Anything else?”
“Toothbrush. Phone charger. The normal artifacts of captivity.”
“You are not captive.”
“Open the elevator.”
“No.”
Dahlia whispered, “That did sound like captivity.”
Nathaniel took a slow breath. He looked toward Brutus, then back to Wren.
“The elevator will open,” he said. “Two men will accompany you. If you attempt to leave the building, they will not touch you. They will follow. I will notify the federal prosecutor that you are alive and willing to speak, assuming you are.”
“You have her number?”
“I can obtain it.”
“That means no.”
“It means I do not call federal prosecutors directly.”
“Healthy boundary.”
Dr. Armitage reentered and tossed Nathaniel a folded towel. “There’s blood on your neck.”
He touched beneath his ear. His fingers came away red from a small cut.
“You should sit,” she said.
“I’m fine.”
Wren and Dahlia looked at each other.
Dr. Armitage sighed. “It runs in the family.”
May you like
No one slept.
Dahlia tried. She took the guest room and turned off the lights, but Wren heard the mattress shift every few minutes. Dr. Armitage left after arranging for Caleb to be treated under an alias that Wren did not ask about.
