Chapter 3 - THE DETECTIVE WHO VANISHED
I should have walked away from Victor Romano that morning.
Any reasonable person would have.
A criminal organization.
A dead wife.
A missing investigator.
And my abusive ex-boyfriend somehow connected to all of it.
Instead, I found myself sitting across from Victor in a coffee shop two blocks from my apartment.
Not because he demanded it.
Because I needed answers.
"Start with Elena," I said.
Victor looked into his coffee.
"She was a schoolteacher."
That surprised me.
"A schoolteacher?"
"Third grade."
He smiled faintly.
"She loved children. Hated expensive parties. Thought my suits were ridiculous."
I almost smiled.
"She sounds sensible."
"She was."
Then his expression changed.
"Elena found financial records connected to a charitable foundation I supported."
"What kind of records?"
"Donations that never reached the schools they were supposed to help."
I leaned forward.
"Someone was stealing charity money?"
"Millions."
My stomach tightened.
"Who?"
"That's what Elena was trying to prove."
Victor explained that his wife had contacted a private investigator named Daniel Whitaker.
Whitaker discovered connections between several shell companies and executives working inside Victor's own businesses.
Then Elena died.
Three months later, Whitaker disappeared.
"Did the police investigate?"
"Yes. But the case went nowhere."
"Why?"
Victor's expression hardened.
"Evidence disappeared. Witnesses changed their statements. People I trusted told me to let it go."
I studied him.
"And you did?"
"No."
His voice was quiet.
"I spent seven years looking for the truth."
A waitress approached with fresh coffee.
Victor thanked her politely.
When she left, I asked the question that had been bothering me.
"What does any of this have to do with Trent?"
Victor took out his phone.
He showed me a photograph.
A younger Trent stood outside a courthouse wearing a navy suit.
Beside him was an older man with silver hair.
"Recognize him?"
I shook my head.
"Who is he?"
"Martin Hayes."
"Should I know that name?"
"He was the attorney who handled several financial disputes involving Elena's foundation."
I frowned.
"And Trent?"
Victor looked at me.
"Trent's full name isn't Trent Walker."
My stomach dropped.
I had lived with him for three years.
I'd signed a lease with him.
I'd traveled with him.
I'd believed I knew everything about him.
"What is it?"
Victor turned the photograph around.
On the back, someone had written two names.
Martin Hayes.
Trenton Hayes.
My hands went cold.
"He's Martin's son."
Victor nodded.
I stared.
Then he revealed the connection that made my entire relationship feel like a lie.
"Claraara, Trent began dating you three weeks after you received a promotion at the historical society."
I swallowed.
"So?"
Victor leaned closer.
"Your department had just acquired the private archives of Elena's charitable foundation."
The coffee shop seemed to spin.
And suddenly, I remembered something.
Trent had never been interested in history.
May you like
Except for one collection.
The Romano papers.
