Chapter 4 - Flowers for a Dead Woman
Gabriel Vale looked nothing like Damian.
Where Damian carried silence like armor, Gabriel entered rooms with easy charm.
He was thirty, impeccably dressed, clean-shaven, and smiling.
Until he saw Adrian Cross.
Then the smile disappeared.
“What is he doing here?”
Adrian looked amused.
“Still pretending?”
Damian stepped forward.
“Enough.”
Harper was beginning to hate that word.
Everyone obeyed Damian when he said it.
Everyone except her.
“Actually, no,” she said.
Four men looked at her.
“This is my shop. My mother is apparently connected to all of you. Somebody threatened me. Somebody left a key. Somebody hid documents under my building. So nobody gets to say ‘enough’ until I understand what is happening.”
Gabriel studied her.
“You're Harper.”
“And you're observant.”
His eyes flicked toward Damian.
“So this is her.”
Harper frowned.
“This is who?”
Damian's jaw tightened.
Gabriel smiled slightly.
“The florist.”
“You told your brother about me?”
“I told him there had been an incident.”
“You kissed him,” Gabriel said.
Harper closed her eyes.
“Why does everybody know that?”
“Because Damian hasn't done anything remotely interesting in years.”
Damian glared at him.
Adrian chuckled.
The moment of humor died quickly.
Harper pointed to the photograph.
“Explain.”
Gabriel saw it.
His expression changed.
“Where did you get that?”
“Adrian.”
Gabriel looked at Adrian.
“You were supposed to destroy it.”
Silence.
Harper slowly turned.
“What?”
Gabriel realized his mistake.
Damian did too.
“You knew about the photograph?” Damian asked.
Gabriel looked toward the door.
“Not here.”
Harper slammed her palm against the counter.
“Stop saying that!”
Gabriel sighed.
“Seventeen years ago, our father discovered Damian planned to give evidence to investigators. Damian ran. Your mother hid him.”
“I know.”
“What Damian doesn't know is that someone found him.”
“Who?”
“Me.”
Damian stared at his brother.
Gabriel continued.
“I was thirteen. I followed Father one night. I saw Evelyn help Damian escape.”
“You never told me.”
“I was a child.”
“You never told Father?”
“No.”
Adrian laughed softly.
“That's the lie.”
Gabriel's face hardened.
Adrian turned to Harper.
“Victor learned where Damian was because someone called him from a pay phone three blocks from this shop.”
“Adrian,” Gabriel warned.
“The caller was a boy.”
Damian looked at his brother.
Harper could almost feel something breaking between them.
Gabriel shook his head.
“I didn't know what Father would do.”
“You called him?”
“I was thirteen!”
“You called him.”
“I wanted you home!”
Damian went silent.
Gabriel's voice cracked.
“You disappeared. Mother was crying. Father said you'd been taken. I believed him.”
Adrian nodded.
“And Victor arrived here.”
Harper looked toward the staircase.
“What happened?”
“Evelyn refused to tell him where Damian had gone,” Adrian said.
“My mother stood up to Victor Vale?”
“She did more than that. She kept the documents Damian left behind.”
Damian looked at Harper.
“She never told me.”
Adrian continued.
“Victor spent years searching for them.”
“And my mother?”
“He watched her.”
Harper's stomach tightened.
“Until she died?”
Nobody answered.
Harper stepped toward Adrian.
“Was her accident really an accident?”
“I don't know.”
“That's convenient.”
“It's the truth.”
Damian watched Adrian carefully.
“Why come now?”
“Because Victor's records disappeared after his death. Somebody recently started looking for them again.”
“The men last night?”
Adrian nodded.
“They worked for me.”
Harper stared.
“You threatened Damian?”
“I was trying to convince him someone inside his own company was moving against him.”
“With a baton?”
Adrian shrugged.
“My employees occasionally lack subtlety.”
Damian's expression suggested this conversation would continue privately.
Harper had another question.
“Who left the key?”
Adrian shook his head.
“Not me.”
“Who called me?”
“Not me.”
That was worse.
Damian looked toward Gabriel.
His brother became angry.
“Don't.”
“Did you?”
“No.”
“Then who knew about locker 317?”
Gabriel hesitated.
Harper saw it.
“So you did know.”
“I knew Father used the terminal.”
“Who else?”
Gabriel looked at Damian.
“Elias.”
Everyone turned.
Elias stood near the window.
His face revealed nothing.
Damian's voice was quiet.
“Is that true?”
“Yes.”
“You told me you'd seen the key before.”
“I did.”
“You didn't say you knew the locker.”
“You didn't ask.”
Harper muttered, “Apparently evasiveness is contagious.”
Elias looked at her.
“Your mother gave me the key.”
Harper stopped.
“When?”
“Nine years ago.”
The room became silent.
“The day before she died.”
Harper's knees almost gave out.
Damian caught her elbow.
She pulled away.
“Why?”
“She told me to keep it until Damian was ready.”
“Ready for what?”
“I don't know.”
“Why did you leave it in the alley?”
“I didn't.”
Harper stared.
“Then who took it from you?”
Elias's expression darkened.
“It disappeared from my apartment two weeks ago.”
Somebody had stolen the key.
Somebody had deliberately dropped it beside Damian.
Somebody had known Harper would become involved.
This hadn't begun in the alley.
The alley had been arranged.
Harper looked around the flower shop that had belonged to her mother.
Suddenly every familiar corner felt different.
“There's more,” Elias said.
He reached into his jacket.
Damian tensed.
Elias removed a folded receipt.
“Evelyn gave me this with the key.”
It came from a florist supply warehouse.
Dated nine years earlier.
On the back, Evelyn had written:
If Harper ever meets Damian, take them to Rosehill together.
Harper's breath caught.
“Rosehill?”
She knew the name.
Rosehill Cemetery.
Her mother was buried there.
Forty minutes later, Harper stood beside Evelyn Ellison's grave.
Damian remained several feet away.
Harper knelt and touched the headstone.
“What were you trying to tell me, Mom?”
She noticed fresh flowers.
White peonies.
Exactly like the bouquet Damian had sent.
Harper looked at him.
“Did you put these here?”
“No.”
Elias shook his head too.
The flowers were fresh.
Placed that morning.
A small card rested beneath them.
Harper pulled it free.
Her mother's name was written on one side.
On the other:
HARPER — ASK DAMIAN WHAT HAPPENED ON OCTOBER 14.
Harper turned.
Damian had gone pale.
“What happened October fourteenth?”
He didn't answer.
“Damian.”
His eyes remained on the card.
“That was the night my father died.”
Harper's pulse quickened.
“And?”
Damian finally looked at her.
“The last person seen with him was your mother.”
A sound came from behind the mausoleum.
Footsteps.
Damian moved in front of Harper.
A woman stepped into view.
She was holding another bouquet.
She looked at Harper and whispered:
“You have Evelyn's eyes.”
Harper stared.
“Who are you?”
The woman began to cry.
Then she said the words Damian clearly never expected to hear.
“My name is Catherine Vale.”
May you like
Damian stopped breathing.
Because Catherine Vale—his mother—had supposedly been dead for fifteen years.
