Chapter 4 - THE BROTHER WHO NEVER CAME HOME
Adrian Cain learned his brother might be alive while sitting in the same office where he'd once signed orders that frightened entire neighborhoods.
Samuel placed June Ellis's statement on his desk.
Adrian stared.
"Julian?"
Samuel nodded.
"She's claiming she helped him disappear."
Adrian stood so abruptly his chair struck the wall.
"Julian died in a warehouse fire."
"That's what your father told everyone."
"I saw the building."
"But not his body."
Adrian stopped.
He remembered the funeral.
An empty coffin.
His father refusing to let anyone question the official story.
Julian had been twenty-one.
A gifted medical student.
Idealistic.
Stubborn.
Always arguing that the Cain family had enough money to help people without controlling them.
Then he vanished.
Adrian spent years believing his brother died because of a business feud.
Now he wondered whether Julian's disappearance had been connected to the charitable foundation.
"I want to speak to June," Adrian said.
Samuel nodded.
"But she needs to agree."
Adrian looked toward Hannah's photograph.
"And her daughter?"
"She's with her."
"Good."
That evening, my mother agreed to meet Adrian in a lawyer's office.
Not his mansion.
Not an abandoned warehouse.
A public professional building where we could leave whenever we wanted.
I insisted on coming.
Mom didn't argue.
Adrian arrived wearing a plain charcoal suit.
Without the torn coat, he looked almost unreal.
The man I'd fed outside Rossi's was Chicago's most feared mafia boss.
Yet when he saw me, he didn't smile arrogantly.
He looked uncomfortable.
"Hannah."
I crossed my arms.
"So the homelessness was an act."
He nodded.
"Yes."
"That was a strange hobby."
Samuel coughed to hide a laugh.
Adrian almost smiled.
"Fair criticism."
I looked directly at him.
"Did you know who I was?"
"No."
I studied his expression.
Then nodded.
"All right."
Mom stepped forward.
"Adrian."
He turned toward her.
"June."
Her eyes filled.
"You look like Vincent."
His expression hardened.
"I hope not."
For a moment, neither spoke.
Then Mom took a photograph from her handbag.
Julian Cain.
Older than in the hospital photograph.
Standing beside a wooden cabin.
The date was only eighteen months earlier.
Adrian stared.
His hands began trembling.
"That's Julian."
Mom nodded.
"He contacted me."
"Where is he?"
"I don't know where he lives now."
Adrian took a shaky breath.
"Why didn't he contact me?"
Mom's expression softened.
"Because he believed your father had made you part of the scheme."
Adrian closed his eyes.
For years, he'd been the heir.
The loyal son.
The man who followed Vincent Cain's orders without asking enough questions.
Now he was discovering that loyalty had cost him his brother.
"Was I involved?" he asked quietly.
Mom hesitated.
"You were seventeen when the records disappeared."
Adrian opened his eyes.
"Then why did Julian fear me?"
Mom reached into her handbag again.
A folded letter appeared.
"Because someone sent him this."
Adrian opened it.
His name appeared at the bottom.
A handwritten threat ordering Julian to remain silent.
Adrian stared.
"That's not my handwriting."
Mom nodded.
"I believe you."
His voice tightened.
"Who forged it?"
Mom looked toward the office door.
Then whispered, "The man your father trusted most."
May you like
Samuel Bishop went completely still.
And for the first time that evening, I wondered whether the man standing beside Adrian was the real danger.
