Chapter 5 - THE FATHER EMILY THOUGHT WAS DEAD
Emily sat in Dominic’s office at two in the morning.
Lily slept on the sofa under Dominic’s suit jacket.
The stuffed rabbit rested beneath her chin.
Emily had not spoken for twelve minutes.
Finally:
“My mother told me he was dead.”
Dominic said nothing.
“My grandmother told me the same thing.”
Still nothing.
Then she looked at Antonio’s letter.
“Why would they lie?”
“Fear.”
“That isn’t an answer.”
“No.”
He respected that.
Antonio’s documents named Thomas Carter as senior internal auditor for Moretti Shipping seventeen years earlier.
Not mafia lieutenant.
Not gangster.
Accountant.
Emily almost laughed at that.
“My father was an accountant?”
“Apparently.”
“Grandma said he worked in transportation.”
“Technically true.”
She shot him a look.
Dominic continued.
Thomas discovered Vincent diverting pension and vendor money into offshore accounts.
Antonio confronted his brother.
Vincent denied everything.
Then Thomas found another problem.
Moretti Shipping had unknowingly been used to move contraband through third-party freight contracts.
Antonio claimed he had not authorized it.
Thomas believed him.
Vincent had.
“If your father exposed everything publicly, innocent employees could have lost pensions and the legitimate companies might have collapsed.”
“So he hid it?”
“No.”
Dominic turned a page.
“He created a restoration structure.”
Thomas and Antonio quietly moved recoverable money back through Carter Asset Management.
The same dormant company Emily found.
It was never supposed to become a theft vehicle.
It was supposed to return money.
Emily frowned.
“Then why are transfers leaving again now?”
Someone revived the system.
Probably Vincent.
Maybe Lombardi.
Maybe others.
Then Marco returned.
“We found Lombardi’s car.”
“Where?”
“Queens.”
“Lombardi?”
“No.”
“Ledger?”
“No.”
Emily rubbed her arms.
Dominic noticed.
“You need rest.”
“I need answers.”
“You need both.”
She looked at him.
“You order everyone around like that?”
“Yes.”
“Does it work?”
“Usually.”
“Not tonight.”
Again, he almost smiled.
Marco placed an evidence bag on the desk.
Found in Lombardi’s car:
A hospital bracelet.
Twenty years old.
Name faded.
But readable.
THOMAS CARTER.
Emily stood.
“What hospital?”
St. Vincent’s.
Admission date:
Seventeen years earlier.
Discharge field blank.
Dominic searched Antonio’s notes.
One date matched.
The night Dominic remembered overhearing the argument in his father’s study.
“You promised Margaret Carter that girl would be protected.”
That girl.
Emily.
Then Marco said:
“There’s more.”
Lombardi’s glove compartment contained a photograph.
Thomas Carter.
Alive.
Older.
Taken approximately six years ago.
Emily’s knees nearly gave out.
Dominic caught her elbow.
She pulled away automatically.
He released immediately.
“Sorry.”
She looked at the photo.
Thomas stood outside a building in Montreal.
Six years ago.
Not dead.
Not seventeen years ago.
Alive long enough that Emily had been thirty-one.
“What was he doing there?”
Marco turned the photograph over.
An address.
Private rehabilitation facility.
Emily whispered:
“Rehabilitation?”
Then Dominic’s phone rang.
Unknown Canadian number.
He answered.
A man spoke.
“Dominic Moretti?”
“Yes.”
“My name is Dr. Aaron Wells.”
Dominic looked at Emily.
“Why are you calling?”
“Because Thomas Carter asked me seventeen years ago to contact you if anyone ever came looking for his daughter.”
Emily stopped breathing.
Dominic said:
“Where is Thomas Carter?”
May you like
The doctor answered quietly.
“He’s alive.”
