Chapter 3 - THE DEAD WIFE AT PIER NINE
Dwayne Cross had been a widower for four years.
At least, that was what everyone believed.
His wife, Celeste, died when her car went over an embankment outside Hartford.
Rain.
Broken guardrail.
Vehicle burned badly enough that identification relied on dental records.
Dwayne had stood beside a closed casket.
Addison watched his face.
“You didn’t know.”
It was not a question.
Dwayne said nothing.
Simon was taken to a private room beneath L’Aura before the detectives could interfere.
They were not there for Addison.
They were there because she had anonymously tipped them about a drug courier expected elsewhere in the restaurant.
A distraction.
Smart.
Infuriatingly smart.
Dwayne entered the private room.
Addison followed.
“You stay outside.”
“No.”
“This concerns my wife.”
“It concerns my brother.”
He stared.
She stared back.
Dwayne gave up first.
Simon sat with blood at the corner of his mouth from trying to fight security.
Dwayne remained standing.
“Celeste.”
Simon closed his eyes.
“What about her?”
“You said Nathan saw her.”
“I shouldn’t have said that.”
“Yet here we are.”
Simon looked at Addison.
“She was alive.”
Dwayne felt the room contract.
“When?”
“The night Nathan disappeared.”
Dwayne’s voice lowered.
“Celeste had been dead eleven months.”
“No.”
Simon swallowed.
“She staged the crash.”
Addison went still.
Dwayne laughed once.
No humor.
“Why?”
“She was leaving you.”
“Why fake her death?”
“Because leaving Dwayne Cross alive was dangerous.”
The sentence hurt more than he expected.
Not because it was false.
Because years ago, it might have been true.
“What was she doing at Pier Nine?”
“Moving money.”
“For who?”
Simon looked away.
Dwayne grabbed his chair and pulled it closer.
“Who?”
“Your father.”
Dwayne froze.
Vincent Cross had been dead six years.
Every answer seemed to resurrect someone.
Simon continued.
“Your father created accounts nobody knew about. Celeste found them after he died.”
“What accounts?”
“Emergency money.”
“For what?”
“To destroy you.”
Addison looked at Dwayne.
His expression became unreadable.
Simon explained that Vincent Cross believed his son was too soft to hold the empire.
Before dying, he left money and instructions with selected captains.
If Dwayne ever tried to legitimize the docks, they were to remove him.
Celeste discovered the plan.
“So she helped them?”
“No.”
Simon looked sick.
“She stole the money.”
Dwayne stared.
“Why?”
“To get away.”
Addison interrupted.
“And Nathan?”
“He was checking container seals.”
“He saw Celeste.”
“Yes.”
“What did you do?”
“I moved him.”
“Where?”
Simon hesitated.
Dwayne stepped closer.
“Where is Nathan Lynwood?”
Simon whispered:
“I don’t know.”
Addison’s face broke.
“You had him.”
“I did.”
“Then what?”
“Celeste took him.”
Dwayne turned.
“What?”
“She said she couldn’t let me kill an innocent man.”
For the first time, something good entered a terrible story.
Then Simon added:
“She took Nathan and disappeared.”
Addison whispered:
“So my brother left willingly?”
“No.”
Simon looked at her.
“He was injured.”
“How?”
Silence.
“Simon.”
Dwayne’s voice made the walls feel colder.
May you like
Simon finally answered:
“I shot him.”
