Chapter 3 - The Dead Man’s Second Phone
The stranger lifted both hands.
“Don’t shoot.”
Dante had already drawn a pistol.
Josephine stared at the ring in the man’s palm.
“Where did you get that?”
“My name is Daniel Cross.”
“Where is my husband?”
“I don’t know.”
Dante stepped closer.
“Wrong answer.”
Daniel swallowed.
“I swear.”
He was perhaps thirty-five, thin, exhausted, wearing a courier jacket.
There was blood on his collar.
Not much.
Enough.
Josephine pointed toward the ring.
“That belongs to Joseph.”
Daniel nodded.
“He gave it to me.”
“When?”
“Three hours ago.”
Josephine’s heart jumped.
“He’s alive.”
“He was.”
Dante’s eyes narrowed.
“Was?”
Daniel looked terrified.
“They moved him.”
“Who?”
“I don’t know their names.”
Dante pressed the gun against his chest.
“You have five seconds to become more useful.”
Josephine grabbed Dante’s wrist.
“Stop.”
Dante looked at her.
“If he knows where Joseph was—”
“He won’t tell us anything if you kill him.”
Daniel nodded rapidly.
“That’s an excellent point.”
Dante lowered the weapon.
Daniel explained.
He worked as an independent delivery driver.
Three days earlier, someone paid him five thousand dollars to deliver food to an abandoned medical clinic near the river.
No names.
Cash.
He was instructed never to enter.
Tonight, during his fourth delivery, someone inside slipped a note beneath the door.
JOSEPHINE MILLER.
Daniel knew the name from the news.
The supposedly grieving widow.
On his next delivery, he heard a fight.
Then Joseph appeared briefly in the hallway.
Bruised.
Handcuffed.
Joseph shoved the ring into Daniel’s hand before guards dragged him away.
“He said one thing.”
Josephine stepped closer.
“What?”
“Tell my wife that Harbor isn’t money.”
Dante went still.
Josephine noticed.
“You know what that means.”
“No.”
“You reacted.”
“I’m thinking.”
“That is your lying face.”
Dante almost smiled.
“You’ve known me twenty minutes.”
“Long enough.”
Daniel handed over a folded piece of paper.
Josephine opened it.
Four handwritten words.
THE WATER REMEMBERS EVERYTHING.
Joseph’s writing.
Dante studied the note.
“Lake Michigan.”
“That narrows it down beautifully,” Josephine said.
Dante looked at Daniel.
“Clinic address.”
Daniel gave it.
They left immediately.
The clinic stood behind an abandoned warehouse district.
By the time Dante’s men entered, the building had been cleared.
Beds.
Medical equipment.
Discarded food containers.
Bloodstained bandages.
Josephine found one with Joseph’s blood type written on the label.
“He was here.”
Dante examined marks on the floor.
“Moved less than two hours ago.”
Josephine’s phone rang.
Robert.
She ignored it.
Again.
Again.
She finally answered.
“Where are you?”
“Out.”
“It’s two in the morning.”
“I’m thirty-one, Robert.”
“I went to your house. The door was open.”
Josephine glanced at Dante.
“Why were you at my house?”
“To check on you.”
“At two in the morning?”
Silence.
Josephine’s suspicion deepened.
Robert lowered his voice.
“You’re with Moretti.”
“How do you know?”
Another pause.
Too long.
“Josephine, come home.”
“Did you know Joseph was investigating Project Harbor?”
Robert went silent.
Josephine felt cold.
“Answer me.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Did you know Victor Hale?”
The call disconnected.
Josephine stared at the screen.
Dante said nothing.
She looked up.
“He knows.”
“Probably.”
“Why would Robert hurt Joseph?”
“Money. Fear. Leverage. Loyalty. Pick one.”
“He raised me.”
“People can love you and betray you at the same time.”
Josephine hated that sentence.
Mostly because part of her believed it.
They searched the clinic.
In an office, Josephine found a city map.
Several locations circled.
One along Lake Michigan.
An old marina.
Dante looked at it.
“The water remembers everything.”
They drove there before dawn.
Fog hung low over the harbor.
Most slips were empty.
One boat remained.
A sixty-foot yacht named CASSANDRA.
Dante stopped.
“You know it?”
“My father owned it.”
“Victor Hale worked for your father.”
“Yes.”
They boarded.
Inside, the yacht looked untouched for years.
Dust.
Covered furniture.
Old liquor.
Dante searched the captain’s cabin.
Josephine found a locked cabinet.
Inside was a waterproof box.
The brass key opened it.
She looked at Dante.
“Joseph planned all of this.”
“He planned contingencies.”
“Same thing.”
Inside the box were photographs.
Documents.
A second flash drive.
And a birth certificate.
Josephine unfolded it.
JOSEPH MILLER.
Except that was not the name at the top.
JONATHAN HALE.
Josephine stopped breathing.
Father: Victor Hale.
Mother: Margaret Hale.
Dante looked over her shoulder.
“Joseph is Victor’s son.”
Josephine shook her head.
“No.”
Everything suddenly rearranged itself.
Joseph finding Victor.
Joseph investigating Harbor.
Joseph faking his death.
Maybe none of it was accidental.
She flipped through additional documents.
Jonathan Hale became Joseph Miller at age eighteen.
New identity.
New social security record.
Federal witness relocation authorization.
Dante swore quietly.
“Witness protection.”
Josephine looked at him.
“My husband wasn’t who he said he was.”
“He may have been exactly who he said he was. Just not who he was born as.”
She wanted to hate the distinction.
Instead, it hurt.
Dante picked up another document.
His expression changed.
“What?”
He handed it to her.
A photograph showed Victor Hale beside Robert Miller.
Taken nineteen years earlier.
They were shaking hands.
On the back:
R.M. AGREED TO TAKE THE GIRL.
Josephine stared.
“The girl?”
Dante looked at her.
“When did Robert become your guardian?”
“When I was nine.”
“After your parents died?”
“Yes.”
“How?”
“Car accident.”
Dante’s jaw tightened.
Josephine understood what he was thinking.
“No.”
“We need proof.”
“My parents died because a drunk driver crossed the center line.”
“That’s what you were told.”
She stepped back.
“No.”
Dante held up the photograph.
“Joseph may not have been investigating only his own past.”
Josephine wanted to throw the picture into the lake.
Instead she noticed something.
A woman stood behind Victor and Robert.
Evelyn Pierce.
Twenty years younger.
Josephine whispered, “She was there.”
A sound came from below deck.
Dante gestured for silence.
His men moved toward the stairs.
A door slammed.
Footsteps.
Josephine followed despite Dante’s order to stay behind.
They reached the engine room.
Empty.
A hatch stood open.
Someone had escaped onto the dock.
On the floor lay a cellphone.
Josephine picked it up.
The screen displayed a live video.
Joseph.
He was tied to a chair.
Someone stood behind him.
Only hands visible.
A voice spoke.
“Bring the Harbor ledger to Pier 19 by noon.”
Josephine leaned closer.
Joseph lifted his head.
“Don’t.”
A fist struck him.
Josephine cried out.
The voice continued.
“Come alone, Mrs. Miller.”
Dante grabbed the phone.
“No.”
Josephine looked at him.
“That’s my husband.”
“It’s a trap.”
“I know.”
“Then act like it.”
Josephine took back the phone.
The video feed suddenly changed.
The camera pulled wider.
Josephine saw the room around Joseph.
A stained-glass window.
A large black door.
Dante’s face went pale.
“What?”
He stared at the image.
“I know that room.”
“Where?”
Dante looked at her.
“My father’s old house.”
Josephine tightened her grip on the phone.
“I thought your father was dead.”
“He is.”
The video flickered.
A man stepped into frame.
Older.
Gray hair.
A scar crossing his cheek.
Dante looked as if he had been struck.
Josephine whispered, “Who is that?”
Dante did not answer.
The older man leaned toward the camera.
“Hello, son.”
May you like
Dante’s dead father smiled.
Then the black door behind him began to open.
