Chapter 2 - The Man in the Red TieThe first thing Vincent heard was the bell above the diner door.
One soft chime.
Then another.
A man stepped inside carrying no umbrella.
Rain darkened the shoulders of his black coat.
He was in his late forties, perhaps fifty. Silver hair at the temples. Polished shoes. Thin leather gloves.
And a red tie.
Lily grabbed Vincent's sleeve.
“That’s him.”
Vincent did not move.
Neither did Sal.
Marco quietly slid his newspaper onto the empty table.
The man looked across the diner.
His eyes stopped on Lily.
Then on Vincent.
He smiled.
It was the kind of smile that had been practiced in mirrors.
“Mr. Romano.”
Vincent felt every muscle in his body tighten.
“Nobody calls me that here.”
The man removed his gloves finger by finger.
“Perhaps that is why I came.”
Sal moved between Lily and the newcomer.
Vincent raised one hand.
Not yet.
He wanted to know who this man was.
“And you are?”
The man smiled.
“Arthur Vale.”
The name meant nothing.
That bothered Vincent.
Men who operated around his family always had names that meant something.
Vale was new.
Or carefully hidden.
“What do you want?”
“I’m here for the child.”
Lily's grip tightened.
Vincent looked at her.
Then back at Vale.
“She’s not going anywhere.”
Vale's expression remained polite.
“She belongs with her mother.”
“Where is her mother?”
“That depends.”
“On what?”
“On whether you intend to involve yourself in a matter that has nothing to do with you.”
Vincent laughed once.
“No.”
Vale tilted his head.
“No?”
“I’m always interested when someone tells me something is none of my business.”
The man's smile faded by one millimeter.
There it was.
The first crack.
“Mr. Romano,” Vale said, “you have no idea what you’ve stepped into.”
Vincent glanced at the jar of coins.
“I think I have a pretty good idea.”
Vale's eyes followed his gaze.
For the first time, his composure broke.
Not much.
Enough.
“You were given something.”
“Apparently.”
“By Elena Carter.”
Vincent's eyes sharpened.
So he knew her name.
“You know Lily's mother?”
“I know what she stole.”
Lily spoke before Vincent could stop her.
“My mom doesn't steal.”
Vale looked at her.
“Your mother stole from dangerous people.”
“What did she steal?”
Vale's eyes returned to Vincent.
“A ledger.”
The word landed hard.
Vincent had spent fifteen years in a world where men lied about money, loyalty, murder, and family.
A ledger was different.
A ledger meant names.
Payments.
Dates.
Favors.
Debt.
Leverage.
A ledger could destroy an organization without firing a single bullet.
Vincent stepped closer.
“What ledger?”
Vale smiled again.
“You know exactly what ledger.”
“I don't.”
“Then ask your father.”
Vincent's face went still.
“My father is dead.”
“Exactly.”
Silence.
Lily's breathing became quicker.
Vincent looked at Vale.
“You have ten seconds to explain.”
Vale calmly reached into his coat.
Sal drew his weapon.
Marco did the same.
Vale froze.
Slowly, he removed a photograph.
He placed it on the table.
Vincent stared at it.
It showed a warehouse at night.
His father stood outside.
Beside him stood Vincent's older brother, Daniel.
Daniel was holding a baby.
A newborn.
Vincent's eyes moved to the date.
Twelve years ago.
The photograph had been taken three months after Daniel's funeral.
Daniel was supposed to be dead.
Vincent looked up.
“That photograph is fake.”
Vale shook his head.
“No.”
“Then Daniel wasn't dead.”
“Not when this was taken.”
Vincent felt the room tilt.
His brother had died twelve years earlier.
At least, that was what the family had told him.
Car crash.
Wet highway.
No survivors.
Private funeral.
Closed casket.
No questions.
Vincent had spent years believing the worst day of his life had already happened.
Apparently, it had been a lie.
“What does this have to do with Lily?”
Vale's gaze moved toward her.
“Ask her mother.”
Vincent stepped forward.
Vale lifted one hand.
“And before you chase me, Mr. Romano, you should know something.”
Vincent stopped.
“The ledger isn't the only thing Elena hid.”
Vale looked directly at Lily.
“She hid the truth about the night your brother died.”
Lily's face went white.
Vincent turned to her.
“What does he mean?”
She shook her head.
“I don't know.”
Vale smiled.
“She does.”
Then the front window exploded.
Glass tore across the room.
Sal tackled Lily to the floor.
Marco fired toward the street.
Vincent dropped behind the booth.
Another shot.
Then another.
Vale vanished through the side door.
Vincent crawled toward Lily.
“Are you hurt?”
She shook her head.
Then Vincent noticed something.
The jar was gone.
Lily stared at the empty space where it had been.
“They took my money.”
Vincent looked toward the shattered window.
There was a note pinned to the table with a knife.
He pulled it free.
Five words.
THE HOUSE ISN'T FOR YOUR MOTHER.
Underneath was an address.
Vincent recognized it immediately.
His brother Daniel's old house.
The house that had burned down twelve years ago.
Vincent stared at the address.
May you like
Then Lily whispered:
“That's where Mom told me never to go.”
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