Chapter 9 - My Sister Confessed to Save Me
Vanessa’s proffer lasted six hours.
I was not allowed in the room.
Mara was, because Vanessa insisted her confession directly affected my defense.
I waited across the hall with Carter under the supervision of two federal agents who clearly hated the arrangement.
At hour three, Carter bought vending-machine coffee.
“This tastes like litigation,” he said.
“You drink espresso from porcelain cups.”
“I contain multitudes.”
“You contain organized-crime allegations.”
“Also that.”
I smiled despite myself.
Then felt guilty.
My sister was in a room confessing to felonies.
“Do you think she’s telling the truth?”
Carter leaned back.
“About forging your records?”
“Yes.”
“Yes.”
“About Gabriel?”
“I don’t know.”
“You hate not knowing.”
“I hate people using uncertainty as a weapon.”
“That sounds familiar.”
He looked at me.
It did.
When Mara finally emerged, she looked exhausted.
“She confessed.”
My chest tightened.
“To what?”
“Identity theft. Fabricating corporate records. Routing funds through your credentials. Coordinating with Dominic’s people.”
“Why?”
“She says she owed Dominic money.”
“How much?”
“Not money-money.”
I frowned.
“What does that mean?”
Mara sat.
“Your mother Evelyn had gambling debts.”
I laughed.
“No.”
“She did.”
“Mom hated casinos.”
“Publicly.”
Carter looked away.
I knew that expression now.
“You knew?”
“I knew she visited private games.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“You didn’t ask me whether your dead mother gambled.”
“Do not become technically innocent with me.”
Mara interrupted.
“Focus.”
I exhaled.
“What do Mom’s debts have to do with Vanessa?”
“When Evelyn died, Dominic acquired the notes.”
“How?”
“He bought them from the lender.”
“Why?”
“Leverage.”
Of course.
Mara continued.
“Vanessa says Dominic threatened to expose the debts, seize assets tied to Evelyn’s estate, and reveal your parentage unless Vanessa cooperated.”
“So she framed me.”
“Yes.”
“That was her solution?”
“She claims Dominic said you would never go to prison. Only be pressured into handing over the gallery and your father’s archives.”
I laughed bitterly.
“Everyone keeps protecting me with crimes.”
Carter said nothing.
Good.
Mara looked at me carefully.
“There’s more.”
“Always.”
“Vanessa says she continued after realizing Dominic intended to sacrifice you because by then she had committed enough crimes that she believed she couldn’t stop.”
“That is not a defense.”
“No.”
“Did she apologize?”
Mara paused.
“Yes.”
I hated how much that hurt.
“What did she say?”
“I think you should hear it from her.”
I stood.
“Can I?”
“Maybe tomorrow.”
Carter asked, “Gabriel?”
Mara nodded.
“Vanessa claims she met him six months ago.”
My heartbeat changed.
“Where?”
“At a private club in Atlantic City.”
“Did he tell her who he was?”
“Not at first.”
“How did she know?”
“He had Daniel Vale’s watch.”
My father’s watch.
I looked down at the brass key around my neck.
Dad had worn two old watches, alternating them for years. One disappeared after his death.
“Gabriel had Dad’s watch?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because Daniel gave it to him.”
My eyes burned.
“He knew him.”
“According to Vanessa, Daniel supported Gabriel secretly for decades.”
Carter looked furious.
“My mother lost a son and Daniel hid him?”
“Maybe Alessandra asked him to,” Mara said.
“That doesn’t make it right.”
“No.”
I looked at Carter.
For once, the anger between us came from the same place.
Parents who decided truth belonged to them.
Mara continued.
“Vanessa says Gabriel returned because he learned Blue Mercy still existed.”
“Does he want the ledger?”
“No.”
“What does he want?”
“She says he wants to destroy every record tying Alessandra to Salvatore.”
Carter frowned.
“Why?”
“Because he believes Salvatore wasn’t the man who killed her.”
My stomach tightened.
“Who does he think did?”
“Daniel.”
Again.
Carter stood.
“Based on what?”
“A letter.”
“From whom?”
“Alessandra.”
The black envelope Vanessa stole.
I knew it.
“What did it say?”
Mara shook her head.
“Vanessa never read it. Gabriel took it from her before Dominic’s people arrived.”
“Then Dominic has Gabriel and the letter.”
“Yes.”
“That’s why Vanessa stabbed him?”
“Vanessa says Dominic admitted he arranged the raid on Marlowe House and intended to kill Gabriel once he got the letter.”
I sat down.
The entire story had become a chain of people weaponizing old love.
My father and Alessandra.
Salvatore and Alessandra.
Vanessa and me.
Carter and Dominic.
Then a federal agent opened the door.
“Mara, prosecutor wants you.”
“Why?”
“New evidence.”
We followed.
Inside the conference room, a prosecutor placed a tablet on the table.
Security footage from a parking garage.
Dominic Rafe walked beside a man in a baseball cap.
The man turned toward the camera.
I stopped breathing.
He was older than in the boxing-gym photograph.
Gray at the temples.
Scar on his jaw.
But the eyes were mine.
Gabriel.
He was alive.
And he was not being held captive.
He was laughing with Dominic.
The prosecutor paused the video.
“Timestamp is this morning.”
Carter stared.
“So Vanessa lied.”
The prosecutor nodded.
“About the kidnapping, yes.”
My stomach turned.
“Why?”
Mara looked toward the closed interview room where my sister sat.
“Maybe to get herself released.”
Carter said, “Or to get us looking at Dominic instead of Gabriel.”
I stared at the screen.
My brother.
Possibly.
A man I had never met.
He looked directly into the camera at the end of the clip.
Almost like he knew we would watch it.
Then he lifted one hand.
In it was the black envelope.
He smiled.
And mouthed four words.
May you like
Come ask me yourself.
Mara let me read part of Vanessa’s signed proffer before we left. Her handwriting trembled only once—beside the sentence where she admitted using my password. I hated that I noticed. I hated even more that I knew exactly what it meant. Vanessa could lie beautifully while speaking, but when she was frightened, her right hand shook. It had since childhood. The confession was real. So was the damage. Those truths did not cancel each other. On the drive back, Carter asked whether I wanted him to say anything about her. “No,” I told him. “I need to learn how to have feelings without hiring a jury.” He nodded as if that made perfect sense. Maybe in his world it did. Mine was beginning to resemble his more than I liked.
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