Chapter 4 - What Dominic Was Signing
Tessa made the call from a laundromat three neighborhoods away, where the dryers rattled loudly enough to drown out a conspiracy.
She'd parked behind a pharmacy, walked two blocks, and bought detergent she didn't need. She disliked every part of the performance. What frightened her most was how quickly it had begun to feel necessary.
Salvatore Reyes answered on the fifth ring.
“If you're selling something, I have already died and left everything to the cat.”
“My name is Tessa Moreno. I work for Vincent Corvino.”
Silence. Then the voice changed entirely.
“Is he alive?”
The question angered her on Vincent's behalf. “He's alive. He wants to know why his oldest friend hasn't called.”
“I've called every week.”
“He hasn't received the calls.”
Someone moved in the background at Salvatore's end. A door shut.
“Tell me exactly what he asked you to ask,” he said.
Tessa unfolded the paper from her pocket. The questions were written in Vincent's angular script. Is the organization still meeting? Who controls the harbor accounts? Who told you not to visit?
Salvatore answered the last question first.
“Dominic said Vincent couldn't tolerate people seeing him in a wheelchair. Arya confirmed it. She cried when she asked me to give them privacy.”
Tessa closed her eyes. She remembered Arya laughing in the hallway and wondered how much theater one woman could perform without getting tired.
“What about the harbor?”
“Dominic's been calling himself acting head. He's appointed people Vincent would never have approved. He's rushing a property transfer, but nobody will explain why.”
“And the money?”
Salvatore hesitated. “A security company started receiving substantial payments just before the shooting. More afterward. I don't have the records yet, but I have somebody who can get them legally.”
Tessa was relieved to hear the word legally.
“Then you need to talk to Vincent directly.”
“I've been trying. If he's ready, I'll come with an attorney and nobody else. But listen carefully. If somebody's watching you, stop running errands for us. Get somewhere safe.”
“It's comforting to hear that after I've been photographed outside his house.”
“What?”
She described the message. He asked her to preserve it and offered to connect her with a lawyer who handled harassment complaints. He didn't ask for her address. He didn't make grand promises.
She liked him immediately.
During the call, Salvatore had asked one more question that Tessa hadn't expected. “Does Vincent still draw?” She'd stared at the noisy washing machines and said she'd found a dusty building plan in his room. The old man on the other end of the line sounded unexpectedly moved. He told her that, as boys, they used to walk past vacant lots and Vincent would sketch the buildings he imagined standing there. Salvatore had always assumed his friend would eventually reclaim that dream. Instead, their families had given them jobs with salaries big enough to make surrender seem voluntary.
Tessa hadn't put the exchange into her official notes; it wasn't part of the investigation. But she wrote it on the back of the paper because it seemed like something Vincent needed to hear. She also spent twenty minutes at the laundromat wondering what kind of world taught a person to hide a harmless ambition but display a violent reputation. When she finally left, she bought Ellie her favorite lemon cookies. Conspiracies could wait long enough for a decent snack. That was a boundary Tessa intended to keep.
Tessa first confirmed that nobody had followed her from the laundromat. She'd asked her lawyer how to document the earlier message without turning herself into an amateur investigator, and the answer had been reassuringly ordinary: preserve the original, write down what she remembered, and call for help if anyone approached her again. It wasn't exciting advice. It was useful advice. Vincent listened carefully when she repeated it, resisting the urge to offer the name of a man who could make inconvenient strangers vanish. The old solution rose automatically in his mind, and for once he let it pass.
At the mansion the next morning, Vincent listened without interrupting as Tessa read her notes. He remained expressionless until she repeated Arya's claim that he'd forbidden visitors. Then he closed his eyes.
“She made my friends believe I didn't want them.”
“She made them believe you were protecting yourself,” Tessa said. “It was clever because it sounded kind.”
“Cruelty usually works better when it borrows kindness's coat.”
He asked her to put the notes in the locked drawer beside the Harbor House drawings. She refused.
“They stay with me. If your cousin decides to search your room, I don't want him finding my handwriting.”
“Fair.”
“And I talked to a lawyer about the photograph. Not your lawyer. Mine.”
“Good.”
“Don't sound so surprised.”
“I'm surprised I didn't think to suggest it first.”
Vincent had another decision to make. For months he'd allowed other people to speak on his behalf. That afternoon he instructed his physician and rehabilitation team in writing that only he could approve appointment changes. He also requested an independent audit of his business holdings through his attorney, Daniel Kessler, whose supposedly disconnected number Salvatore provided.
Daniel answered Vincent's call from Tessa's prepaid phone on the first ring.
“Vincent? Tell me you aren't under duress.”
“Not from the woman standing here.”
“Then tell me what you need.”
“Everything I signed since March. Every transfer touching the harbor. And a copy of any document claiming I've delegated authority to Dominic.”
Daniel was quiet. “There is a document like that.”
Vincent gripped his armrest. “When was it executed?”
“Two days after your surgery.”
“I was still sedated two days after surgery.”
“I know. That's why I refused to certify it.”
“Then how is Dominic operating under it?”
“Somebody used a different attorney.”
After the call, Tessa placed his coffee on the desk and stepped back. He looked at the floor for several seconds before speaking.
“I built a business where people obey whoever looks strongest. I shouldn't be shocked somebody took advantage when I couldn't stand.”
“You're confusing being unable to stand with being unable to lead. Your cousin wants you to do that.”
He raised his eyes to hers. “What if I want out of the kind of business that made this possible?”
“Then make that decision while you still can.”
She meant to leave the moment her shift ended, but an unfamiliar man was waiting near her car. He wore a gray suit and held a business card between two fingers.
“Miss Moreno? Dominic Corvino would like a word.”
May you like
Tessa didn't move toward him.
The man smiled and said, “He already knows about your sister.”
