Chapter 2 - The Passenger Who Shouldn't Exist
Dominic moved before Evelyn understood what was happening.
He stepped between her and the door.
Adrian reached inside his jacket, but Dominic gave him a sharp look.
“No weapons unless we know what we're dealing with.”
The door opened.
A conductor stood there.
He was in his sixties, thin, gray-haired, wearing the Continental Crown's navy uniform.
His nameplate read MARTIN BELL.
The man looked at Dominic.
Then Evelyn.
Then the photograph in Dominic's hand.
His face went white.
“You found it.”
Dominic's voice hardened.
“You have five seconds to explain how you know that photograph exists.”
Martin entered and closed the door.
“I was hoping Thomas had destroyed it.”
Evelyn stood.
“You knew my father?”
Martin looked at her carefully.
“You're Evie.”
Nobody called her that anymore.
Evelyn's hand tightened around the chair.
“How do you know that?”
“Thomas kept your school picture in his wallet.”
“When?”
“Twelve years ago.”
Dominic stepped closer.
“Start talking.”
Martin glanced toward seat 9C.
“I was working this train the night Gabriel died.”
Dominic knew that.
He had read every official report.
Martin Bell had been listed as an assistant conductor.
According to his statement, he had been two cars away when Gabriel disappeared.
“You told police you saw nothing.”
“I lied.”
Silence.
Dominic's expression did not change.
But Evelyn saw his tattooed forearm tighten.
“Why?”
Martin looked toward the window.
“Because Victor Carver gave me a choice.”
There was the name again.
Dominic's father.
“He told me I could forget what I saw or my wife would lose her medical coverage, my house would disappear under legal fees, and my son would never find work in transportation again.”
“And you believed him?”
“I'd watched him ruin stronger men.”
Dominic's voice dropped.
“What did you see?”
Martin looked toward Gabriel's old seat.
“Your brother arguing with Thomas Hart.”
Evelyn flinched.
“My father?”
“They weren't enemies.”
Martin shook his head.
“They were trying to stop something.”
“What?”
“A shipment.”
Dominic frowned.
Carver Logistics had transported everything from industrial equipment to pharmaceuticals.
“What shipment?”
“I never knew exactly.”
Martin continued.
“Gabriel had found records that didn't match. Containers listed as medical equipment had weights that were impossible for the manifests. Routes were being changed after inspection. Thomas worked accounting for one of Victor's subcontractors.”
Evelyn slowly sat down.
Her father had been an accountant.
He had told her he'd left transportation because he hated traveling.
Another lie.
“Thomas found the numbers,” Martin said. “Gabriel found the routes.”
Dominic remembered his brother's final months.
Gabriel had become restless.
Secretive.
He had repeatedly tried to talk to Dominic about their father.
Dominic had dismissed him.
Victor built this family.
Stop looking for monsters.
Dominic had said those exact words.
He remembered them now.
Every one.
“What happened on October seventeenth?” Dominic asked.
Martin's eyes filled with old shame.
“Gabriel told Thomas he had enough evidence.”
“And?”
“Thomas begged him to wait.”
“For what?”
“For you.”
Dominic froze.
“Me?”
“Gabriel trusted you.”
Martin gave a sad smile.
“He thought you were the only person strong enough to stand against Victor.”
Dominic looked away.
Gabriel had trusted the wrong brother.
“What happened next?”
“I heard shouting near the rear vestibule. By the time I got there, Gabriel was gone.”
“Gone?”
“The exterior door was open.”
Dominic's eyes narrowed.
“Who else was there?”
Martin hesitated.
“Victor.”
Evelyn stopped breathing for a second.
Dominic didn't move.
“My father wasn't on this train.”
“He was.”
“No.”
“I saw him.”
“The passenger records—”
“Were changed.”
Dominic stared at Martin.
His entire understanding of that night had rested on one certainty.
Victor had been in New York.
There were hotel records.
Witnesses.
Photographs from a charity dinner.
Martin reached inside his uniform jacket.
Adrian stepped forward.
“Slowly.”
Martin removed an old ticket stub.
October 17.
Twelve years earlier.
Chicago to Milwaukee.
Passenger: V. CARVER.
Dominic took it.
His father's name seemed to move on the paper.
“He kept the original ticket,” Martin said. “He made me delete the electronic entry. I kept the printed stub.”
“Why?”
“Cowardice needs insurance.”
Evelyn looked at the envelope.
“What does this have to do with my father's letter?”
Martin's eyes went toward it.
“I don't know what's inside.”
“But you knew Thomas.”
“Yes.”
“Did you create my reservation?”
Martin nodded.
Dominic's eyes sharpened.
“Using Gabriel's account?”
“Yes.”
“How?”
“Gabriel gave me the login twelve years ago. He said if anything happened to him, I was to use it when Thomas was finally ready.”
Dominic stepped closer.
“You waited twelve years?”
“No.”
Martin looked at Evelyn.
“I waited for Thomas.”
Evelyn's eyes filled.
“My father waited until he was dying.”
“Fear can make twelve years disappear.”
She turned away.
Dominic understood that better than he wanted to admit.
His phone vibrated.
He checked the screen.
One message.
From his mother.
CALL ME NOW.
Dominic ignored it.
“What else did Gabriel hide?”
Martin pointed toward the photograph.
“That picture is only half.”
“Half of what?”
“The original showed four people.”
Dominic looked at the torn edge.
Gabriel.
Thomas.
An unidentified young man.
And somebody missing from the torn portion.
“Who was the fourth?”
Martin shook his head.
“I never saw the complete picture.”
Evelyn picked up her father's notebook.
She flipped through several pages.
Most contained fragments.
Dates.
Initials.
Numbers.
Then she stopped.
“There's something here.”
Dominic leaned over.
On one page Thomas had written:
PHOTO = KEY.
OTHER HALF WITH D.C.
Dominic frowned.
“D.C.?”
Evelyn looked at him.
“Dominic Carver.”
“I don't have it.”
Martin's expression changed.
“Maybe you do.”
Dominic looked up.
“What does that mean?”
“Did Gabriel ever give you anything shortly before he died?”
Dominic almost said no.
Then memory struck.
A wallet.
Cheap brown leather.
Gabriel had tossed it onto Dominic's desk three days before the train ride.
Keep this for me.
Dominic had laughed.
What are you, twelve?
Just keep it.
Dominic had thrown it into a drawer.
After Gabriel's death, he couldn't bear to touch anything his brother had left behind.
The wallet had remained inside a locked box in Dominic's apartment for twelve years.
“There was something,” he said.
Evelyn stared at him.
“What?”
“My brother's wallet.”
“Where is it?”
“Chicago.”
They were already miles away.
Dominic reached for his phone.
He called his house manager.
No answer.
Again.
Nothing.
Adrian tried.
Nothing.
Dominic felt a cold pressure forming behind his ribs.
His penthouse security system was linked to his phone.
He opened the application.
OFFLINE.
That had never happened.
“Adrian.”
“I see it.”
Evelyn watched their expressions.
“What?”
Dominic called the private security desk in his building.
A guard answered.
“Mr. Carver?”
“Send someone to my apartment.”
A pause.
“Sir, your mother arrived about twenty minutes ago.”
Dominic's eyes narrowed.
“My mother?”
“Yes. She had authorization.”
“Is she still there?”
“I believe so.”
“Get someone upstairs now.”
Another pause.
“Sir…”
“What?”
“The elevator camera just went offline.”
Dominic's grip tightened around the phone.
Then a photograph arrived by text.
Unknown number.
It showed the open safe inside Dominic's bedroom.
The black storage box was sitting on his bed.
Gabriel's wallet lay beside it.
Open.
Empty.
Under the photograph were six words.
YOU SHOULD HAVE LEFT HIM BURIED.
Dominic stared at the screen.
Then another message appeared.
This one contained a live photograph.
His mother was sitting in Dominic's apartment.
Someone stood behind her.
A hand rested on her shoulder.
Dominic recognized the ring on that hand.
May you like
His father's ring.
But Victor Carver had been dead for eight years.
