Chapter 8 - The Trap at the LakeVincent exited first.
Anna hated him for doing it.
Not because it was foolish.
Because it reminded her of the man she had once believed he was—the man who would step into danger before her.
“Hands above your head!” an officer shouted.
Vincent obeyed.
Sophia whispered, “We need to explain.”
Anna grabbed her wrist.
“Not until we know which police we’re explaining it to.”
Five patrol vehicles surrounded the lake house.
Too many for a routine trespassing call.
Vincent was handcuffed.
An officer entered.
“We have a report of stolen police evidence.”
Sophia stared.
“That’s impossible.”
The officer looked toward the safe.
“Step away.”
Anna watched carefully.
The officer already knew where to look.
Before anyone had told him.
She whispered to Sophia, “They knew.”
The gun was recovered.
Vincent was arrested for possession of stolen evidence and obstruction.
At the county station, Helen Park arrived furious.
“This operation wasn’t authorized.”
Vincent sat inside an interview room.
“Then who called them?”
“Anonymous tip.”
“Carlo.”
“Probably.”
Helen leaned forward.
“But there’s a bigger problem.”
“What?”
“The weapon disappeared from police evidence twenty-four years ago.”
Vincent almost laughed.
“And they think I stole it when I was fourteen?”
“No. They think you possessed it tonight.”
Anna entered with an attorney.
“We’re getting you out.”
Vincent looked at her.
“Why?”
She frowned.
“Why what?”
“Why help me?”
Anna folded her arms.
“Do not confuse cooperation with forgiveness.”
He almost smiled.
It vanished quickly.
Sophia entered next.
“My father hid the gun.”
Helen asked, “Why?”
“I don’t know.”
“Did he kill Antonio?”
Sophia recoiled.
“No.”
“Then why possess the murder weapon?”
Sophia looked shaken.
“I don’t know.”
The question poisoned the room.
What if Raymond Carter had killed Antonio?
What if everything they believed about Carlo was wrong?
Anna refused the easy conclusion.
“Marcus trusted Raymond.”
Vincent said, “Marcus also trusted my father.”
Sophia snapped, “What does that mean?”
“It means trust didn’t keep anyone alive.”
Helen interrupted.
“The ledger will help. If it’s authentic.”
“It is,” Sophia said.
“We need verification.”
Anna looked toward the interview-room camera.
“Somebody knew we were there before we opened the safe.”
Helen nodded.
“The lake house may have been monitored.”
“By Carlo?”
“Or someone else.”
Vincent’s attorney secured his release before dawn.
Outside, reporters waited.
The story had already leaked.
MAFIA BILLIONAIRE FOUND WITH MURDER WEAPON FROM FATHER’S UNSOLVED KILLING.
Anna watched Vincent read the headline.
“You should disappear for a while.”
He shook his head.
“I’ve spent my whole life letting Carlo define the story.”
“You being arrested won’t help Gabriel.”
Vincent looked at her.
“That’s why I’m not disappearing.”
They returned to Anna’s townhouse.
Elias met them at the door.
“Gabriel is asleep.”
Anna exhaled.
Then Elias added, “Someone tried to enter the courtyard tonight.”
Vincent’s face changed.
“Who?”
“Security scared him away.”
Anna rushed upstairs.
Gabriel slept peacefully beneath a navy blanket.
She sat beside him, touching his curls.
Vincent remained in the doorway.
“You were right.”
Anna didn’t turn.
“About what?”
“Hiding him.”
She looked back.
Vincent’s eyes were wet.
“You kept him alive.”
Anna swallowed.
“I didn’t do it alone.”
“Elias?”
“And Rebecca.”
Vincent frowned.
“The flight attendant?”
“She got me out.”
“But she died.”
“After saving us.”
Vincent closed his eyes.
For three years, Rebecca Nolan had been listed among the crash victims.
He had paid for her memorial.
He had never known she had saved his wife and child.
Anna continued.
“She forced the rear door open. The blast threw us beyond the fence.”
“How did she die?”
“Internal injuries.”
Vincent whispered, “Was she conscious?”
“For ten minutes.”
“Did she say anything?”
Anna hesitated.
“Yes.”
“What?”
“She said the explosion happened too fast.”
Vincent looked up.
“She had been trained for aircraft fires. She said fuel shouldn’t have ignited where it did.”
“That’s evidence.”
“It was.”
“What else did she say?”
Anna’s face changed.
“She said someone opened the rear fuel access panel after landing.”
Vincent stared.
“Who?”
“She couldn’t see.”
Anna rose.
“But she heard a voice outside before the blast.”
“Whose?”
Anna looked directly at him.
“She thought it was Dominic.”
Vincent froze.
His CFO.
The man who claimed his credentials had been stolen.
The man who helped them escape the warehouse.
Vincent immediately called Dominic.
No answer.
Again.
Nothing.
They drove to Dominic’s apartment.
The door was unlocked.
Inside, furniture had been overturned.
A chair lay broken.
Blood marked the kitchen floor.
Anna whispered, “Oh God.”
Vincent checked the rooms.
Empty.
On Dominic’s desk sat a laptop.
The screen displayed one unsent email.
TO: VINCENT MORETTI.
SUBJECT: I LIED ABOUT THE PLANE.
Vincent opened it.
The message contained one sentence.
CARLO DIDN’T ORDER ME TO SABOTAGE THE JET.
Vincent scrolled.
Nothing else.
The email had never been completed.
Anna looked at the blood.
“If Carlo didn’t order him…”
Vincent finished quietly.
“Someone else did.”
A sound came from the hallway.
Elias shouted from downstairs.
“Vincent!”
They ran out.
A package had been left at the door.
Inside was Dominic’s expensive wristwatch.
And a photograph.
Dominic sat alive in an unknown room, tied to a chair.
Across the photograph someone had written:
BRING MARCUS BENNETT’S DRIVE OR DOMINIC DIES.
Anna stared.
Vincent’s voice became cold.
“Carlo knows about the drive.”
Elias shook his head.
“Maybe.”
Anna looked at him.
“What do you mean?”
Elias pointed to the handwriting.
“I’ve seen this before.”
“Where?”
He looked toward Anna.
“On the warning delivered to the clinic the night Gabriel was born.”
Anna’s blood chilled.
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