Chapter 10 - THE SON WHO FINALLY CHOSE THE TRUTH
Trent Mallory had treated me terribly for more than two years.
He'd shouted at me.
Threatened my job.
Blamed me for mistakes I hadn't made.
But when I learned his father had taken him, I didn't feel satisfaction.
I felt fear.
Because I knew what Victor Mallory was capable of.
Kareem stood near the conference room window.
His jaw was tight.
"Victor knows the recording is in police custody."
Omar nodded.
"Yes."
"Then he knows everything is collapsing."
The detective entered.
"We're tracking his vehicles and financial activity. We need everyone to remain available for interviews."
Kareem nodded.
For once, he wasn't giving orders.
He was cooperating.
I sat in silence.
My phone vibrated.
Unknown number.
A message appeared.
Your manager wanted to protect you.
I stared.
Then another message arrived.
He knew your grandmother.
My breath caught.
A photograph followed.
Trent Mallory as a teenager.
Standing beside Grandma.
Both smiling.
I couldn't believe it.
"Look."
Kareem examined the photograph.
His expression changed.
"Samira knew Trent?"
I nodded slowly.
"Apparently."
A third message appeared.
Ask him why he never fired you.
I stared at the screen.
Trent had threatened to fire me countless times.
But somehow, I always kept my job.
Even when customers complained.
Even when shifts disappeared from the schedule.
Even when I confronted him.
He always found a reason to keep me.
A terrible realization formed.
"What if Trent wasn't trying to get rid of me?"
Kareem looked at me.
"What do you mean?"
"What if he was keeping me close because he thought I was safer where he could watch me?"
Omar considered it.
"That would explain why he insisted you work certain shifts."
I remembered something.
Every time a wealthy Middle Eastern businessman visited the restaurant, Trent became unusually nervous.
He never let me serve those tables.
I thought he was ashamed of me.
Maybe he was afraid someone would recognize me.
Then the detective returned.
"We found Trent's personal statement."
I looked up.
"What statement?"
"He emailed it to his attorney before disappearing."
The detective summarized the document.
Trent had discovered his father's criminal activities years earlier.
When Samira approached him, she explained who I was.
She asked him to keep an eye on me.
After her death, Trent arranged for me to be hired at the Bellweather Room.
He believed the restaurant was one of the few places where he could monitor his father's contacts and warn me if danger approached.
But he'd handled it terribly.
He used intimidation instead of honesty.
Control instead of trust.
And he'd hurt me while claiming to protect me.
I wiped my tears.
"He should have told me."
Kareem nodded.
"Yes."
Then Omar received a call.
His expression sharpened.
"Sir, Victor's vehicle has been located."
"Where?"
"At an abandoned shipping terminal in Red Hook."
Kareem froze.
Red Hook.
The location of the warehouse explosion thirty-eight years earlier.
Then a message arrived on my phone.
This one contained a video.
Trent sat tied to a chair.
His face was bruised.
Victor Mallory stood behind him.
He looked directly into the camera.
"Nia Brooks."
My blood ran cold.
"Bring me the brass key."
May you like
He smiled.
"And perhaps I'll tell you where your grandfather has been hiding all these years."
