Chapter 3
Camille kept the pistol pointed at the floor.
That was the only reason nobody shot her.
Adrian stood between me and the gun.
Marcus moved carefully toward the fireplace.
Peter Voss did not move at all.
He said, “Camille, put it down.”
She looked at him.
“You hid Helen.”
“Yes.”
“Where?”
“She disappeared.”
Camille’s face changed.
“You lost her?”
Voss narrowed his eyes. “You did not know.”
“No.”
That mattered.
Adrian heard it too.
“Who knew Site C?”
Voss looked toward Julian.
Camille did the same.
Julian stopped smiling.
Adrian said, “There it is.”
Julian’s jaw tightened.
Camille pointed the gun at her brother.
“You told me Helen was irrelevant.”
“She was.”
“You knew where she was.”
“I knew where Dominic hid her.”
“You promised you would leave her alone.”
Julian laughed. “You still think promises are contracts.”
Camille’s arm trembled.
Adrian spoke softly.
“Give me the gun.”
She looked at him.
“I did love you.”
“Maybe.”
“I did.”
“That does not make the lies disappear.”
“No.”
“Gun.”
She lowered it.
One of the guards took it.
Camille covered her face.
Then said, “Julian changed Dominic’s medication.”
Adrian stared at her.
“I know.”
“No. You know he signed the changes.”
“What is the difference?”
“He was not the one who administered the final dose.”
Silence.
Marcus looked at her.
“Who did?”
Camille’s eyes closed.
“I did.”
Adrian stopped breathing.
She began crying.
“I thought it was pain medication. Julian prepared the syringe.”
Julian shouted, “Stop talking.”
She looked at him.
“You told me Dad’s old contacts would kill Adrian if Dominic exposed them.”
“I told you the truth.”
“You told me Dominic had hours left anyway.”
Adrian whispered, “So you injected my father.”
Camille looked at him.
“Yes.”
He turned away.
That was worse than anger.
She said his name.
He did not answer.
Detective Aaron Pike arrived twenty minutes later.
He had handled Dominic’s original death report.
He looked at the open safe.
The burned files.
Julian under guard.
Camille crying.
Marcus alive.
Me with bruises around my throat.
Then he said, “I’m going to need a larger notebook.”
Nobody laughed.
Pike separated everyone.
I communicated by writing.
He photographed my injuries.
He read Dominic’s letter.
When he reached the line about Helen being alive, he sat back.
“I signed her death paperwork eight years ago.”
Voss said, “You were a patrol officer.”
Pike stared at him.
“That does not make me feel better.”
Marcus gave his statement next.
Then Pike received a video anonymously.
Dominic’s study.
Three nights before he died.
Marcus entered at 11:42 p.m.
He left twelve minutes later.
Julian entered after midnight.
Camille followed.
Pike looked at Marcus.
“You told everyone you were in Montreal.”
Marcus nodded.
“I lied.”
Adrian laughed bitterly.
“Family motto.”
Pike said, “Your fingerprints are on Dominic’s medication case.”
Marcus explained that Dominic dropped it.
Pike did not look convinced.
Julian smiled.
“Arrest him.”
Helen was not there to interrupt.
But I noticed something.
Julian knew about the video before Pike described it.
I wrote quickly and showed Adrian.
HE SENT IT.
Adrian looked at Pike.
“Ask Julian how he knew the footage existed.”
Pike froze.
Then turned.
Julian’s smile disappeared.
That small change saved Marcus from handcuffs.
Pike seized Julian’s phone.
The messages were worse.
Camille: Did he take the pills?
Julian: Enough.
Camille: You promised not to hurt him.
Julian: He was dying anyway.
Camille: That was not the agreement.
Julian: Stop pretending you are innocent.
Another thread:
Camille: I won’t let you frame Marcus.
Julian: Then Adrian goes down with him.
Camille: Leave Adrian out.
Julian: Too late.
Adrian read the messages in silence.
Then handed the phone back.
“Take him.”
Julian finally looked afraid.
Marcus admitted the federal investigation that night.
He had contacted prosecutor Sarah Klein six months earlier.
“I gave her Laurent records,” he said.
Adrian folded his arms.
“And Romano records?”
“Historical transfers.”
“With my signature?”
“Some.”
Adrian stared.
Marcus added, “I told her you did not know what the transactions were.”
“Did she believe you?”
“I don’t know.”
Adrian laughed once.
“You say that a lot.”
“Because I do not control federal prosecutors.”
“No. Apparently you only control whether I know I am under investigation.”
Marcus looked away.
Voss interrupted.
“Dominic contacted Klein too.”
Adrian turned.
“Of course he did.”
“Two weeks before he died.”
“What did he promise?”
“The original will and Helen’s recordings.”
My mother again.
Always one step beyond my understanding.
I wrote:
WHAT RECORDINGS?
Voss looked at me.
“Your mother recorded meetings for years.”
WITH WHO?
“Dominic. Étienne Laurent. Julian. Marcus.”
Marcus frowned. “Me?”
“Yes.”
“What did I say?”
“You asked her to hold the nine million.”
Adrian looked at him again.
Marcus swore.
Voss continued.
“She agreed because the funds were evidence.”
I wrote:
WHERE ARE RECORDINGS?
Voss’s expression changed.
“Dominic believed Helen hid them with you.”
I stared.
WITH ME?
Then I remembered the music box.
Blue enamel.
Broken ballerina.
A gift from my mother when I was twelve.
I wrote:
MY APARTMENT.
Adrian immediately said, “We go together.”
Pike said, “No one goes anywhere without police.”
For once, I agreed with both.
My apartment door was broken.
The living room had been destroyed.
Couch cushions cut.
Books dumped.
Kitchen drawers pulled out.
Mattress torn open.
I ran to the bedroom.
The shelf where my music box had sat was empty.
My chest tightened.
Adrian stood behind me.
“Gone?”
I nodded.
Marcus entered and swore.
Pike photographed everything.
Then Adrian noticed an envelope on my bed.
Inside was a photograph.
Camille sitting in a car.
My music box in her lap.
On the back:
COME TO THE LAKE HOUSE ALONE.
I looked at the handwriting.
Block letters.
My mother had taught me to notice handwriting when I was a child.
She said people revealed themselves in pressure and spacing.
Helen’s old lessons came back.
I showed Voss.
NOT CAMILLE.
He agreed.
Adrian asked, “Who?”
I stared at the final stroke on the A.
Familiar.
From Dominic’s letter.
I wrote:
SOMEONE COPYING YOUR FATHER.
Marcus read it.
His face darkened.
“Julian had access to Dad’s records.”
Pike looked toward the window.
“So the lake house is a trap.”
Adrian picked up the photograph.
“Yes.”
I took it from him.
Then wrote:
WE STILL GO.
He looked at me.
“No.”
I raised an eyebrow.
Marcus said, “You know that means she is going.”
Adrian glared at him.
Marcus shrugged.
“I’m learning.”
Despite everything, I almost smiled.
Then Pike’s phone rang.
He listened.
His face changed.
“We found a vehicle linked to Julian.”
“Where?” Adrian asked.
Pike looked at the photograph in my hand.
“Two miles from the Romano lake house.”
That night, another detail mattered.
Police technicians cataloged every item from Dominic’s safe. Some recordings were labeled only with dates. Some carried initials belonging to men who were already dead. Others belonged to people currently sitting on charity boards, corporate committees, and political commissions. The scale of the secret widened with every evidence bag. Pike stopped making sarcastic remarks. Even Marcus grew quiet. Adrian watched his father’s private history become numbered exhibits. I wondered what it felt like to lose a parent twice: once to death, then again to the truth.
In the days that followed, the same lesson returned.
Police technicians cataloged every item from Dominic’s safe. Some recordings were labeled only with dates. Some carried initials belonging to men who were already dead. Others belonged to people currently sitting on charity boards, corporate committees, and political commissions. The scale of the secret widened with every evidence bag. Pike stopped making sarcastic remarks. Even Marcus grew quiet. Adrian watched his father’s private history become numbered exhibits. I wondered what it felt like to lose a parent twice: once to death, then again to the truth.
There was one more conversation I remembered.
Police technicians cataloged every item from Dominic’s safe. Some recordings were labeled only with dates. Some carried initials belonging to men who were already dead. Others belonged to people currently sitting on charity boards, corporate committees, and political commissions. The scale of the secret widened with every evidence bag. Pike stopped making sarcastic remarks. Even Marcus grew quiet. Adrian watched his father’s private history become numbered exhibits. I wondered what it felt like to lose a parent twice: once to death, then again to the truth.
Later, when things became quieter, I understood more.
Police technicians cataloged every item from Dominic’s safe. Some recordings were labeled only with dates. Some carried initials belonging to men who were already dead. Others belonged to people currently sitting on charity boards, corporate committees, and political commissions. The scale of the secret widened with every evidence bag. Pike stopped making sarcastic remarks. Even Marcus grew quiet. Adrian watched his father’s private history become numbered exhibits. I wondered what it felt like to lose a parent twice: once to death, then again to the truth.
May you like
That night, another detail mattered.
Police technicians cataloged every item from Dominic’s safe. Some recordings were labeled only with dates. Some carried initials belonging to men who were already dead. Others belonged to people currently sitting on charity boards, corporate committees, and political commissions. The scale of the secret widened with every evidence bag. Pike stopped making sarcastic remarks. Even Marcus grew quiet. Adrian watched his father’s private history become numbered exhibits. I wondered what it felt like to lose a parent twice: once to death, then again to the truth.
