Chapter 2 - THE MISSING KEY
Dominic didn’t raise his voice.
That was the first thing Emily noticed.
Men like Ray got loud when they were scared. Customers got loud when they wanted attention. Madeline got sharp when she felt control slipping away.
Dominic Russo became quieter.
He stared at the security image for several seconds, then handed the phone back to the guard.
“Find Mercer.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Do not call him. Do not let him know we’re looking.”
The guard nodded and disappeared down the hall.
Madeline gave a disbelieving laugh. “You cannot seriously be doing this.”
Dominic turned to her. “Where is the key?”
“I have no idea.”
“Elliot was here.”
“Then ask Elliot.”
“I will.”
Madeline’s mouth tightened. “And when he tells you he came for something related to the Friday signing, will you apologize to me?”
“No.”
That answer landed harder than any accusation.
She stared at him.
Dominic looked at Ray. “Who knows about the hallway camera outage?”
“Me. The owner. Security.”
“Anyone else?”
Ray hesitated.
Dominic’s eyes narrowed.
“Ray.”
“Madeline asked me two weeks ago how long the cameras keep recordings.”
Emily felt every muscle in her body stiffen.
Madeline took a step toward Ray. “You are unbelievable.”
Ray backed up.
Dominic moved between them without touching either person.
“You’re done here tonight,” he told Madeline.
She smiled coldly. “Are you throwing me out of a restaurant you don’t own?”
“No. I’m asking my fiancée to go home because I don’t trust what I’ll say if you stay.”
The smile vanished.
For a moment Emily thought Madeline might slap him.
Instead, she looked at Emily.
Not at Dominic.
At Emily.
There was no embarrassment in her eyes.
Only warning.
Then she walked away.
Dominic waited until the sound of her heels disappeared.
“Emily.”
She looked at him.
“Your mother. Is she safe?”
The question hit her differently than everything else had.
She grabbed her phone.
“I don’t know.”
Her fingers shook as she called the assisted-living facility.
A receptionist answered after four rings.
“Rosewood Residence, how may I direct your call?”
“This is Emily Carter. I need to check on Helen Carter, room 214.”
“One moment.”
The music on hold lasted twelve seconds.
It felt like twelve minutes.
Then a nurse came on the line.
“Emily? Your mom is fine. She’s asleep.”
Emily closed her eyes.
“Has anyone visited her tonight?”
A pause.
“Not tonight.”
“Today?”
Another pause.
“A woman stopped by around four. She said she was a friend from Helen’s old job.”
Emily’s eyes opened.
Dominic was watching her.
“What woman?”
“She signed in as Madeleine Crane.”
Emily’s stomach dropped.
“Can you spell the last name?”
The nurse did.
It didn’t matter.
The first name was enough.
“Did she see my mother?”
“For about fifteen minutes.”
“Was anyone with them?”
“I don’t think so.”
Emily gripped the phone. “Please don’t let anyone visit her unless it’s me or my brother. No exceptions.”
“Of course. Is something wrong?”
Emily looked at Dominic.
“Yes,” she said. “I think there might be.”
When she ended the call, no one spoke for a few seconds.
Then Dominic asked, “What time did your mother give you the key?”
“About two yesterday.”
“And Madeline visited her today?”
“At four.”
“How would she know where your mother lives?”
Emily looked toward Ray.
Ray’s face drained of color.
“Employee emergency contacts,” he said.
Dominic turned slowly.
Ray lifted both hands. “I didn’t give them to her.”
“Who has access?”
“Managers. Payroll. The owner.”
“And the office computer?”
Ray shut his eyes.
“Anyone with the code.”
“Who knows the code?”
Ray opened his eyes.
“Madeline.”
Emily stared at him.
Ray looked ashamed. “She planned your engagement dinner here last month. She needed to print seating charts. I gave it to her once.”
Dominic’s jaw flexed.
Emily felt anger rise through the fear.
“So she found my mother because you gave her access to employee records?”
“I didn’t know—”
“No. You didn’t want to know.”
Ray flinched.
She turned away before she said something worse.
Dominic pulled out his phone and made two calls.
The first was to Rosewood. He identified himself, asked for the night administrator, and arranged for a private security officer to be posted near Helen Carter’s floor.
The second call was shorter.
“Car at the service entrance. Five minutes.”
Emily looked at him. “I’m not going anywhere with you.”
“You’re going to your mother.”
“I can drive.”
“Someone searched your locker, took a key, and visited your mother using a false name. You can be angry at me later.”
“I’m not angry at you.”
“Good. That saves time.”
Despite herself, Emily almost laughed.
Almost.
Then Dominic’s expression softened just enough for her to notice.
“Your mother comes first,” he said.
That ended the argument.
Forty-five minutes later, they were heading west on the Massachusetts Turnpike in a black SUV driven by a man named Nico Bell. Dominic sat in the back beside Emily, leaving enough space between them that she understood it was deliberate.
He had changed since the restaurant.
Not clothes.
Energy.
At Bellucci’s he had looked like a man deciding whether a lie mattered.
Now he looked like a man who knew it did.
Emily stared out the window.
“You remember my mother?”
“Yes.”
“You said her name before I did.”
Dominic nodded.
“She worked for my father for four months near the end. He hated having strangers in the house. Your mother was one of the few people he tolerated.”
“That sounds like her.”
“She beat him at cards.”
Emily turned. “What?”
“Gin rummy. He accused her of cheating.”
“She probably was.”
For the first time that night, Dominic smiled.
It changed his face more than Emily expected.
Then the smile disappeared.
“My father trusted almost no one. If he gave Helen a key, he had a reason.”
“Maybe she misunderstood.”
“Maybe.”
“You don’t believe that.”
“No.”
Emily twisted her fingers together.
“Mr. Russo—”
“Dominic.”
She glanced at him.
“This isn’t a formal deposition.”
“Fine. Dominic. What exactly are you signing Friday?”
He watched the highway lights pass across the glass.
“A consolidation agreement. My father owned controlling shares in three companies through a private trust. After he died, those shares passed to me with restrictions for eighteen months.”
“And Friday?”
“The restrictions can be dissolved early if I sign a consent drafted by Mercer.”
“Why would you do that?”
“Because the businesses need to refinance. At least that’s what I was told.”
“And Madeline benefits?”
“Not directly.”
Emily gave him a look.
Dominic corrected himself.
“Not on paper.”
That answer made more sense.
Rosewood Residence was quiet when they arrived. A night nurse met them in the lobby, clearly trying not to stare at Dominic’s security man.
Helen Carter was awake after all.
She sat in a pale blue chair beside her window, a blanket over her knees and a book open upside down in her lap.
“Mom?”
Helen looked toward the door.
Her face brightened.
“Emily.”
Emily crossed the room and hugged her carefully.
For several seconds, nothing else mattered.
Then Helen noticed Dominic.
Her smile disappeared.
Not with fear.
Recognition.
“Oh,” she whispered.
Dominic stepped closer.
“Mrs. Carter.”
Helen stared at him for a long time.
“You got older.”
Dominic’s mouth moved slightly. “So did you.”
“That was rude.”
Emily covered a laugh with her hand.
Dominic actually looked embarrassed.
Helen pointed at the chair across from her.
“Sit down, Victor’s boy.”
Dominic obeyed.
Emily had never seen anyone order Dominic Russo around with so little effort.
Helen studied his face.
“You have his eyes when you’re angry.”
“I’m not angry.”
“You’re furious.”
Dominic didn’t deny it.
Emily sat beside her mother. “Mom, the key you gave me is gone.”
Helen’s fingers tightened on the blanket.
For a second, confusion clouded her face.
“What key?”
Emily’s heart sank.
“The brass key. Number 317.”
Helen looked toward the window.
“I don’t like winter.”
“Mom.”
Dominic leaned forward.
“Mrs. Carter, my father gave you something before he died.”
Helen’s gaze snapped back to him.
“Yes.”
The clarity came so suddenly Emily stopped breathing.
“He told me not to trust the lawyer.”
Dominic went still.
“Elliot Mercer?”
Helen nodded.
“He said Elliot smiled too much after Victor got sick.”
Emily looked at Dominic.
“What was the key for?” he asked.
Helen lifted one hand and touched her temple.
“Three-seventeen.”
“We know the number.”
“Not a bank.”
Dominic frowned.
Emily leaned closer. “Then what?”
Helen looked at her daughter.
“The station.”
“What station?”
“South Station.”
Dominic’s eyes sharpened.
Helen continued slowly.
“Old luggage lockers. Lower level. Victor said banks make records. Stations make people disappear.”
Emily felt a chill move over her skin.
Dominic’s voice stayed calm.
“What did he put there?”
Helen looked at him.
“Something he said you would hate him for.”
No one spoke.
Then Helen reached for Emily’s hand.
“Your pretty woman came today.”
Dominic’s face hardened.
“Madeline?”
“She asked about the key.”
“What did you tell her?” Emily asked.
Helen smiled faintly.
“I told her I gave it to my daughter.”
Emily closed her eyes.
That explained the locker search.
Dominic stood.
“We’re going to South Station.”
Helen’s hand shot out and caught his wrist with surprising strength.
“No.”
Dominic looked down.
Her voice became urgent.
“Not yet.”
“Why?”
“Because Victor made me promise something.”
“What?”
Helen glanced toward the open door.
Then she whispered:
“He said if Madeline Cross ever learned about locker 317, it meant she already knew where the second key was.”
Dominic froze.
Emily stared at her mother.
“There’s another key?”
Helen nodded.
“Victor gave it to the only man he trusted more than me.”
Dominic’s voice was barely audible.
“Who?”
Helen looked directly at him.
“Your brother.”
Dominic didn’t blink.
May you like
Emily knew only what every Boston newspaper knew about the Russo family.
Dominic Russo had been an only child.
