Chương 4
Jamie had never been her husband.
Mave had once planned to marry him. Then Finn was born, doctors found the defect in his heart, and every plan they made became something they would revisit after the next appointment. Jamie died before any of those plans returned.
The hospital public-relations office sent a woman named Kelsey to discuss media exposure. Kelsey wore a navy suit, carried no visible pen, and used the phrase patient privacy six times while explaining that the hospital could not stop reporters from waiting on public sidewalks.
Mave asked for her phone.
Kelsey suggested limiting social media.
“I don’t have social media.”
“That may help.”
“I need my phone.”
Kelsey placed it on the tray table.
There were eighty-three missed calls.
One came from a blocked number. The voicemail contained seven seconds of breathing and a man’s voice.
“You should have let the girl fall.”
Mave listened twice before Detective Ortiz took the phone.
Finn arrived twenty minutes later with Mrs. Keating, Bear, and a paper bag containing clothes Mave would not be able to put on without help. Finn stopped at the doorway.
He was small for nine, though he hated anyone saying it. His brown hair had been cut badly around one ear because Mave had tried to save money. The stuffed bear beneath his arm had once been tan. Years of washing had turned it the color of weak tea. Most of the fur was gone from its head, and one black plastic eye had been replaced with a button.
Mave smiled. “You brought the criminal.”
Finn stared at the bruising visible above her gown.
His face folded for half a second before he recovered.
“Bear says you look terrible.”
“He always was honest.”
Mrs. Keating pushed Finn gently forward. She was seventy-three, wore red glasses, and had arrived in slippers despite the heat outside. She placed the paper bag on a chair, then looked at Rafe, who stood near the window.
“You,” she said.
Rafe inclined his head.
“You own the place?”
“I do.”
“You should hire better.”
“I should.”
The answer disappointed her. She had prepared for resistance.
Finn climbed carefully onto the bed. Mave used her left arm to draw him close. He smelled of grape toothpaste and Mrs. Keating’s lavender detergent.
“Does it hurt?” he whispered.
“Yes.”
“Are you going to die?”
“No.”
“Did the doctor say?”
“The doctor said I’m difficult to kill.”
Rafe looked away.
Finn noticed him. “Are you the brother?”
Rafe turned back. “Yes.”
“Your sister cries quietly.”
Elena, sitting beside the wall, wiped her cheek with the heel of her hand. “I thought I was being subtle.”
“You sniff.”
“I’ll work on it.”
Finn placed Bear on Mave’s blanket. The bear tipped sideways because one leg contained less stuffing than the other. Mave reached to steady it, but pain stopped her.
Rafe stepped forward and set the bear upright.
Finn watched his hand. “He doesn’t like strangers.”
“Neither do I.”
“That’s not the same.”
“No,” Rafe said. “It isn’t.”
Detective Ortiz returned with a second officer. She asked Mrs. Keating to take Finn and Elena to the family lounge. Finn refused until Mave promised not to leave the hospital without him. Elena offered to buy him hot chocolate. He looked suspicious.
“Hospital hot chocolate is mostly water.”
“I know a place downstairs.”
“You can’t leave. Somebody tried to kill you.”
Elena glanced at Ortiz.
The detective said, “He’s right.”
They settled for vending-machine crackers. Finn carried Bear out by one arm.
Ortiz waited for the door to close.
“We found this in Salcedo’s locker at the county facility.”
She placed a printed photograph on the tray table.
It showed Finn outside his school, wearing a blue backpack. The picture had been taken from across the street. A date printed in the corner placed it five days earlier.
Mave’s good hand closed around the sheet.
“There’s more,” Ortiz said.
The second photograph showed Mave leaving The Salt Line after midnight. The third showed Mrs. Keating unlocking the front door of their apartment building. The fourth showed Jamie Donovan’s grave in Dorchester.
Rafe did not move.
Mave looked at him. “Tell me.”
“I don’t know yet.”
“You know something.”
“I know Jamie worked for my family.”
“He drove trucks.”
“He drove one truck that disappeared for six hours before he died.”
Mave’s fingers tightened around Finn’s photograph. “The accident report said he fell asleep.”
“The accident report was written by a state trooper who retired eighteen months later with cash he couldn’t explain.”
Ortiz’s gaze sharpened. “You have proof of that?”
“No.”
“Then be careful.”
Mave stared at Rafe. “How long have you known?”
“That the report was false? Three years.”
Jamie had been dead for seven.
The monitor beside Mave quickened. A nurse appeared at the door, glanced at the screen, and asked everyone to keep the conversation calm. Nobody answered her. She adjusted Mave’s oxygen and left.
Mave spoke slowly. “You knew the father of my child may have been murdered, and you let me serve wine in your restaurant.”
“I didn’t know why he was killed.”
“You knew enough.”
“I knew my father ordered an internal review after the crash. I knew Carlo handled it. I knew the file was closed.”
“Carlo.”
Rafe’s eyes remained on hers. “Yes.”
The word entered the room and stayed there.
Ortiz collected the photographs. “Salcedo’s lawyer says his client won’t speak without a deal. The district attorney is considering attempted murder and aggravated assault. The federal organized-crime unit has asked to be notified if the Colazo businesses appear involved.”
“They always ask,” Rafe said.
“This time they have a viral video and a frightened city councilman who was eating six tables away.”
Mave looked at Jamie’s grave in the photograph. The grass around the stone had been cut unevenly. She had been there last Sunday. Finn had complained about mosquitoes and left a green plastic race car beneath the marker.
May you like
The race car appeared in the image.
Whoever had taken the picture had been there after them.
