Chapter 5 - The Man in the BasementThe prisoner was tied to a metal chair.
Claire saw him through the reinforced glass.
Forty-something.
Blood on his face.
Broken nose.
Terrified eyes.
Gabriel stood across from him.
“Name.”
The man spat blood.
“Tom Reyes.”
“Who hired you?”
“No one.”
Gabriel smiled.
It was a terrible smile.
“Everyone says that.”
Claire stayed behind the glass with Lily.
The child stared at Tom.
Then she whispered:
“He smelled like gasoline.”
Claire looked at her.
“You remember his smell?”
Lily nodded.
“Red door.”
Tom suddenly looked toward the observation window.
His face collapsed.
“Oh God.”
Gabriel noticed.
“You recognize someone?”
Tom's eyes locked onto Lily.
“She survived?”
Gabriel grabbed his collar.
“Who were you working for?”
Tom began trembling.
“Not working.”
“What?”
“I was told to drive.”
“By whom?”
Tom looked at Claire.
Then at Lily.
Then down.
“Mrs. Mercer.”
Gabriel went completely still.
Claire felt her stomach twist.
“What did she pay you for?” Gabriel asked.
Tom answered in a whisper.
“To take the girl.”
Gabriel released him.
The room went silent.
Claire stepped toward the glass.
“You were told to kidnap Lily?”
Tom shook his head.
“Not kidnap.”
“What then?”
“Transfer.”
The word sounded obscene.
“Transfer her where?”
Tom stared at the floor.
“To the D'Alessio family.”
Gabriel's face became terrifyingly blank.
The D'Alessios were not just rivals.
They were the one family Varrick had spent fifteen years keeping out of New York.
If they had gotten Lily alive, the balance of power would have collapsed.
“Why did you fail?”
Tom laughed bitterly.
“I didn't.”
Claire frowned.
“What?”
“I delivered her.”
Gabriel's eyes narrowed.
“Lily was never delivered to them.”
Tom looked at Lily.
“She was.”
Gabriel grabbed him.
“You’re lying.”
“I wish I were.”
Tom's breathing became frantic.
“She was taken to the red-door house. Mrs. Mercer brought her herself.”
Claire looked at Lily.
The little girl had gone completely pale.
Tom continued.
“Then the shooting started.”
Gabriel whispered:
“Who shot Elena?”
Tom closed his eyes.
“That's the part I don't know.”
Gabriel leaned closer.
“But I know who paid for it.”
“Who?”
Tom opened his eyes.
“Your wife.”
The room stopped.
Gabriel stared at him.
“My wife is dead.”
Tom swallowed.
“She wasn't when the payment was made.”
Claire turned toward Lily.
The little girl was staring at Gabriel.
Not at Tom.
Not at the guards.
At her father.
Then Lily whispered:
“Mommy told me Daddy would blame the wrong woman.”
Gabriel looked like he'd been shot.
And somewhere upstairs, a woman's voice began singing the lullaby.
“Hush now, little sparrow…”
Claire spun around.
May you like
She knew that voice.
Evelyn.
