Chapter 4 - The Woman Who Signed His Death Certificate
Dante stared at the frozen screen.
“My father died twelve years ago.”
Josephine looked from the phone to him.
“Apparently death is becoming unreliable around us.”
Dante did not smile.
His father, Alessandro Moretti, had supposedly died of pancreatic cancer.
Closed casket.
Private burial.
Dante had been twenty-seven.
He inherited everything afterward.
Businesses.
Enemies.
Debts.
A criminal organization he claimed he had spent a decade trying to dismantle from inside.
Now Alessandro was alive.
Josephine almost felt relieved.
Not because of the revelation.
Because for once the impossible thing belonged to someone else.
They left the marina.
Dante ordered his people to verify the old Moretti estate.
Josephine searched the documents from the yacht.
One name appeared repeatedly.
Dr. Helen Ward.
She had signed Joseph’s death certificate.
Thirty minutes later Josephine was pounding on Dr. Ward’s apartment door.
The woman opened it wearing pajamas and fear.
“I knew someone would come.”
Josephine stepped inside.
“You declared my husband dead.”
Dr. Ward looked toward Dante.
“I was forced.”
“By whom?”
“Victor Hale.”
Josephine laughed without humor.
“Everyone keeps saying that name.”
Dr. Ward sank into a chair.
“The body from the explosion was badly burned. Dental records were switched. DNA paperwork was altered.”
“You knew Joseph was alive?”
“I knew the body wasn’t his.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Because they showed me photographs of my daughter.”
Josephine stopped.
Dr. Ward began crying.
“I’m sorry.”
Josephine wanted to scream at her.
Instead she remembered three weeks of funeral preparations.
Everyone saying sorry.
Everyone touching her shoulder.
Everyone lying.
“When was the last time you saw Joseph?”
“The night of the explosion.”
“He was injured?”
“Burns. Concussion. Broken ribs.”
“But alive.”
“Yes.”
“Who took him?”
Dr. Ward looked at Dante.
“A man named Moretti.”
Josephine turned sharply.
Dante did not move.
“Which Moretti?”
“I don’t know.”
“Was it him?”
Dr. Ward shook her head.
“No. Older.”
Alessandro.
Dante walked toward the window.
His fists clenched.
Josephine watched him.
“You knew nothing?”
“No.”
“Why should I believe you?”
“You shouldn’t.”
He turned.
“But if I were working with my father, Joseph wouldn’t have needed to summon me through you.”
Josephine hated that it made sense.
Dr. Ward handed her a sealed envelope.
“Joseph gave me this.”
“When?”
“The night he disappeared.”
“Why didn’t you give it to me?”
“He told me only if you asked about his real name.”
Josephine opened it.
A letter.
Josie,
If you’re reading this, then my past finally reached our front door.
I wanted to tell you a thousand times.
My name was Jonathan Hale.
Victor Hale is my father.
But he stopped being my family the night he killed my mother.
Josephine stopped reading.
Dante watched her.
She continued.
Robert Miller helped me disappear when I was sixteen.
For years I believed he saved my life.
Then I learned he may have done it for Victor.
I married you before I understood how deeply our families were connected.
That is the part I will never forgive myself for.
I loved you before I knew who you were.
And I loved you after.
Josephine’s hands trembled.
Who she was?
She continued.
Your parents did not die in an accident.
They were investigating Victor’s network.
Your father was an accountant.
Your mother worked for the state attorney.
Robert was supposed to protect them.
Instead, he made a deal.
If I vanish, do not assume Robert is your enemy.
But do not assume he is innocent either.
Trust evidence.
Not grief.
I love you.
Joseph.
Josephine sat down.
Her entire childhood cracked open.
Dante quietly asked, “What did he say?”
She handed him the letter.
He read it.
“Your parents.”
“Were murdered.”
“We don’t know that.”
“Yes, we do.”
“We know Joseph believed it.”
“That’s enough.”
“No.”
Dante folded the letter.
“It isn’t.”
Josephine looked at him sharply.
“Why are you defending Robert?”
“I’m defending you from making decisions while angry.”
“You make decisions while holding guns.”
“I’m exceptionally calm while holding guns.”
Despite herself, Josephine laughed once.
Then she covered her face.
The laugh became a sob.
Dante looked away, giving her privacy.
When Josephine lowered her hands, she said, “Pier 19.”
“No.”
“Joseph is there.”
“Maybe.”
“I’m going.”
“Then we plan.”
Dante called his people.
Pier 19 belonged to an abandoned shipping yard.
They had three hours.
Josephine wanted to take the flash drive.
Dante insisted on copying it.
They opened it.
Encrypted.
A password prompt.
Josephine tried Joseph’s birthday.
Wrong.
Their anniversary.
Wrong.
Then she remembered his note.
The water remembers everything.
She entered CASSANDRA.
Unlocked.
The drive contained hundreds of financial transactions.
Names.
Payoffs.
Police.
Judges.
Businessmen.
Politicians.
And one folder marked HARBOR.
Inside were birth certificates.
Passports.
Death certificates.
Dozens.
Dante understood first.
“Harbor isn’t money.”
Josephine looked at the files.
“It’s identities.”
A network for making people disappear.
New names.
False deaths.
Clean records.
Victor had built a private witness-protection system for criminals.
Or fugitives.
Or anyone rich enough to erase themselves.
Joseph had discovered it.
Josephine found Robert’s name.
AUTHORIZED FACILITATOR.
Her stomach dropped.
Then Evelyn.
MEDICAL DOCUMENTATION.
Martin Cole.
LEGAL TRANSFERS.
Everyone at the memorial.
Josephine whispered, “The funeral guests were part of Harbor.”
Dante looked grim.
“Not guests.”
“Witnesses.”
Josephine searched Joseph’s file.
STATUS: RELOCATION DENIED.
Then another notation.
SUBJECT RETAINED FOR LEVERAGE.
“He didn’t choose to disappear,” Josephine said.
“No.”
“They took him.”
“Yes.”
A new email appeared on the laptop.
One sentence.
NOON. PIER 19. MRS. MILLER ALONE.
Attached photo.
Joseph, alive.
Josephine stood.
“I’m going.”
Dante nodded.
This time he did not argue.
At 11:58 a.m., Josephine walked alone onto Pier 19.
The flash drive was in her coat pocket.
Dante’s people watched from hidden positions.
Fog rolled over the water.
At the end of the pier stood Robert.
Josephine stopped.
Her heart broke before he spoke.
“Give me the drive.”
She stared at the man who had raised her.
“Where is Joseph?”
Robert’s eyes filled with something she could not read.
“Josephine, please.”
“Were my parents murdered?”
Robert looked away.
That was an answer.
Josephine stepped closer.
“You sold them out.”
“No.”
“You worked for Victor.”
“I worked against Victor.”
“The files say otherwise.”
“Files can lie.”
“Joseph believed you betrayed us.”
Robert’s face crumpled.
“I made one mistake twenty-two years ago.”
“One?”
“I thought I could control Victor.”
“Where is my husband?”
Robert looked behind her.
His fear returned.
“Josephine, you need to run.”
A gunshot cracked.
Robert jerked.
Blood spread across his shoulder.
Josephine screamed.
Dante’s men opened fire from cover.
Robert grabbed Josephine and pulled her behind a steel crate.
“Listen to me.”
“You’re bleeding.”
“Listen!”
He shoved a small card into her palm.
“Your mother left this.”
Josephine stared.
Another memory card.
“Where?”
“St. Catherine’s.”
“What does that mean?”
“Your mother knew Harbor existed before Joseph was born into it.”
Gunfire erupted again.
Robert winced.
“You need to find Evelyn.”
“She’s part of Harbor.”
“Yes.”
“Why would I trust her?”
“Because Evelyn didn’t sign Joseph’s death certificate.”
Josephine frowned.
Robert coughed.
“She signed yours.”
Josephine froze.
“What?”
Robert looked terrified.
“Twenty-two years ago, Josephine Miller officially died.”
Behind them, footsteps approached.
May you like
Robert whispered one final sentence.
“And the woman who took your identity is standing right behind you.”
