Chapter 3 - What Was Hidden in Hannah’s Car
Dominic was already moving.
“Lock the gates.”
Marco spoke into his radio.
“Teams two and four, Mercer’s vehicle. Suspect is Caleb Rourke. Do not lose him.”
Hannah stood.
“I’m coming.”
“No.”
She looked at Dominic.
“That's my home.”
“It may be a crime scene.”
“It was already a crime scene. I slept in it.”
Dominic opened his mouth.
Then stopped.
“Fine.”
They reached the station wagon eleven minutes later.
Caleb was gone.
The black case was gone.
The rear passenger door hung open.
One blanket lay in the street.
Hannah rushed forward.
“My papers.”
She searched beneath the front seat.
Then behind it.
Her birth certificate was still inside a plastic freezer bag.
Her nursing license paperwork.
Old photographs.
Everything seemed present.
Except something she never knew existed.
Dominic examined the rear wheel well.
“How long has the car been parked here?”
“Four months.”
“Same spot?”
“Mostly.”
Marco crouched.
“Fresh adhesive under the frame.”
Hannah stared.
“What does that mean?”
“Someone attached something beneath your car.”
“A tracker?”
Marco shook his head.
“Bigger.”
Dominic looked toward the direction Caleb had fled.
“The case.”
Hannah’s stomach turned.
“You're saying somebody hid it under my car?”
“Yes.”
“When?”
“Could've been yesterday. Could've been months ago.”
Hannah thought about all the nights she had slept there.
All the footsteps she had heard.
All the shadows she had ignored because survival required ignoring many things.
Evelyn’s key.
Caleb.
The case.
None of it was random.
“Why me?”
Dominic looked at her.
“I don't know yet.”
Hannah hated those words.
Because for two years, not knowing had become the shape of her life.
Why had her evidence disappeared?
Why had Caleb targeted her?
Why had nobody believed her?
Why had a woman with good references and a decade of steady employment become somebody sleeping behind a laundromat?
Every disaster had arrived wearing the mask of coincidence.
Maybe none of it had been coincidence.
Marco's phone rang.
He answered.
His expression changed.
“We found the van.”
“Where?” Dominic asked.
“Abandoned under the east bridge.”
“Caleb?”
“No.”
“Anything inside?”
Marco looked at Hannah.
“One body.”
Hannah went cold.
The body belonged to the second kidnapper.
He had been shot after fleeing the alley.
No identification.
No phone.
Only a tattoo behind his ear.
A small black crown.
Dominic recognized it.
“The Crown Syndicate.”
Hannah stared at him.
“That sounds made up.”
“I wish it was.”
“What are they?”
Dominic glanced at Marco.
Then answered.
“People who move things.”
“What things?”
“Money. Drugs. Information.”
“People?”
“Yes.”
Hannah looked away.
Dominic continued.
“They've operated quietly for years. No permanent leadership anyone could prove. Caleb working with them changes things.”
“How?”
“He knows hospitals.”
Hannah understood.
Medication.
Records.
Patients.
People who died without attracting questions.
“What was your mother carrying?”
Dominic looked toward Evelyn.
She had insisted on coming.
Evelyn sat inside one of the SUVs, looking suddenly older.
“A key,” Dominic said.
“To what?”
“Apparently something my father hid.”
Hannah crossed her arms.
“You're leaving out a lot.”
“So is my mother.”
Evelyn opened the SUV door.
“I heard that.”
“Good.”
She walked toward them.
“My husband wasn't a saint.”
Dominic's expression hardened.
Hannah said nothing.
Evelyn continued.
“Your father built businesses with dangerous men.”
“I know.”
“No. You know the version we allowed you to know.”
Dominic's jaw tightened.
Evelyn looked at Hannah.
“Fourteen years ago, my husband discovered that one of his partners had expanded into trafficking medicine through hospitals and care facilities.”
“Caleb?” Hannah asked.
“Caleb was young then. An assistant. But yes.”
Dominic stared.
“Dad found out?”
“He kept records.”
“The evidence the key opens.”
“Yes.”
“Where?”
Evelyn hesitated.
“St. Catherine’s.”
Hannah felt the ground disappear beneath her.
“The hospital.”
Evelyn nodded.
“Your hospital.”
Hannah stepped back.
“No.”
“The evidence was hidden there because nobody connected the building to our family.”
“You're telling me I accidentally took a job at the exact hospital where your husband hid evidence against criminals?”
“No.”
Hannah stared.
Evelyn’s eyes filled with regret.
“You were hired because someone wanted you there.”
The words landed slowly.
“Who?”
“I don't know.”
“That's convenient.”
“Hannah—”
“Six years of my life.”
“I know.”
“No, you don't.”
Her voice rose.
“You went home last night to a mansion. When my life collapsed, I slept in shelters. Then couches. Then this car.”
She pointed toward the station wagon.
“I spent winter nights waking up every two hours because I was afraid somebody would smash the window.”
Evelyn flinched.
“Hannah.”
“So don't tell me you know.”
Dominic stepped forward.
“My mother didn't do this.”
“I know.”
“Then aim your anger at the people who did.”
“I've been trying.”
Dominic looked at her.
“Then let me help.”
Hannah laughed bitterly.
“Why?”
“Because you saved my mother.”
“There it is.”
“What?”
“The debt.”
“This isn't a debt.”
“Everything with rich people is a debt.”
Dominic considered that.
Then he took out his wallet.
Hannah stiffened.
He removed nothing.
Instead, he closed it and put it away.
“You refused my mother's money because accepting it would turn what you did into a transaction.”
Hannah said nothing.
“So I won't buy your trust.”
“Good.”
“I'll earn it.”
She studied him.
The alleged Mafia boss.
The man people probably feared.
For the first time, Dominic looked almost ordinary.
Not harmless.
Never harmless.
But sincere.
“Start with the truth,” Hannah said.
“All of it.”
Dominic nodded.
“All right.”
They returned to the Vale estate.
Evelyn opened a locked desk.
Inside were letters written by Dominic’s father, Anthony Vale.
One referenced St. Catherine’s.
Another referenced a hospital employee identified only as H.M.
Hannah stared.
“My initials.”
“Yes.”
“But this was written fourteen years ago.”
“You were twenty-four,” Evelyn said.
“I didn't work there then.”
Dominic took the letter.
A line had been underlined.
FIND H.M. BEFORE ROURKE DOES.
Hannah's mouth went dry.
“Caleb's father?”
Evelyn nodded slowly.
“Walter Rourke.”
Dominic turned the page.
Walter had been one of Anthony Vale’s business partners.
Caleb inherited more than his name.
Hannah suddenly remembered her father.
Not much.
Daniel Mercer had disappeared when Hannah was eleven.
Her mother always said he ran away.
Hannah had spent years hating him.
“What was my father's name?” she asked quietly.
Evelyn looked confused.
“Daniel Mercer.”
Evelyn stopped breathing.
Dominic noticed.
“Ma?”
Hannah stared at her.
“You knew him.”
Evelyn sank into a chair.
“Oh, God.”
“You knew my father.”
“Yes.”
Hannah’s pulse thundered.
“How?”
Evelyn looked toward Anthony Vale’s letters.
“Daniel Mercer worked for my husband.”
The room became silent.
“What did he do?”
“He kept financial records.”
Hannah sat down because her knees had suddenly weakened.
“Did he leave us?”
Evelyn's eyes filled.
“No.”
One word destroyed a twenty-seven-year-old belief.
Hannah whispered, “Then where did he go?”
Evelyn opened another envelope.
Inside was a photograph.
Anthony Vale stood beside a younger man.
Hannah recognized him immediately.
Her father.
On the back were six handwritten words.
DANIEL FOUND THE LEDGER. THEY KNOW.
Hannah covered her mouth.
“Was he killed?”
Evelyn could not answer.
Dominic opened the final envelope.
Empty.
Except for an address.
St. Catherine’s Medical Center.
Basement level.
Room B-17.
Hannah stood.
“We go now.”
Dominic nodded.
An hour later, they entered the old service wing of St. Catherine’s.
Room B-17 had supposedly been sealed for twelve years.
The brass key from Evelyn's necklace fit the lock.
Dominic turned it.
The door opened.
Inside stood rows of dusty file cabinets.
And one chair.
Someone was sitting in it.
Hannah stepped forward.
The man slowly raised his head.
Her knees almost gave way.
He was older.
Thinner.
Gray-haired.
But Hannah knew his eyes.
May you like
The man she had believed abandoned her twenty-seven years earlier looked directly at her.
“Hannah?”
