Chapter 10 - THE NIGHT OF THE CRASH
Rachel stared at her mother.
“Running from you?”
Diane shook her head.
“He’s lying.”
Vincent laughed through the pain.
“You’ve always been good at that, Diane.”
Nicholas pressed a cloth against Vincent’s wound, keeping him alive long enough to talk.
Rachel stood.
“Mom.”
Diane looked broken.
“There are things I didn’t tell you.”
“That seems to be the theme of my life.”
Diane closed her eyes.
“The night your father died, we argued.”
“About what?”
“You.”
Rachel went still.
“Me?”
“Thomas wanted to disappear. New names. New country. He believed Vincent knew he had the evidence.”
“And you said no?”
“I said running would destroy your childhood.”
Rachel laughed once, bitterly.
“So instead he died.”
Diane flinched.
“I was wrong.”
Vincent muttered, “You were worse than wrong.”
Nicholas grabbed his collar.
“Careful.”
Diane looked at Rachel.
“Your father left furious. I followed him.”
Rachel’s stomach tightened.
“In what?”
“Our second car.”
Vincent smiled.
“And there it is.”
Diane’s eyes filled with tears.
“I saw the truck hit him.”
Rachel whispered, “Who was driving?”
“I couldn’t see.”
Vincent coughed.
“But I could.”
Daniel returned.
“Evan escaped through the east tunnel.”
Nicholas cursed.
Rachel ignored everything except Vincent.
“Name.”
Vincent stared at her.
Then laughed.
“You want the truth? Fine.”
He looked at Nicholas.
“Roberto.”
Nicholas froze.
His uncle.
His father’s younger brother.
The man who attended every Christmas dinner.
The man who stood beside Antonio’s coffin.
Vincent continued.
“Roberto drove. I paid him. Antonio discovered it later.”
Nicholas’s voice became dangerous.
“So you killed my father too.”
Vincent smiled.
“No.”
Nicholas’s face changed.
Vincent leaned back.
“I wanted Antonio dead. Roberto wanted him dead. Half the city wanted him dead.”
He looked toward Diane.
“But Antonio died before we could touch him.”
Rachel looked at Nicholas.
“How?”
“Heart attack,” Nicholas said.
Vincent laughed again.
“No autopsy. Closed casket. Private doctor.”
Nicholas grabbed him.
“What are you saying?”
Vincent’s eyes gleamed.
“Antonio Valenti never died.”
Silence swallowed the garage.
Nicholas released him slowly.
“That’s impossible.”
Vincent smiled.
“Then ask yourself one question.”
May you like
He leaned closer.
“Why has nobody ever found Antonio Valenti’s body?”
