Chapter 3 - THE PHOTOGRAPH
Voss sat in silence for nearly a minute.
Then he said:
"Turn it over."
Cora approached the credenza.
Her hand hovered above the frame.
"Are you sure?"
"No."
She turned it over anyway.
The photograph showed four men standing outside a warehouse.
One was Voss.
Younger.
Unscarred.
Smiling.
Beside him stood Daniel Hayes.
Cora recognized her brother instantly.
His crooked grin.
His messy brown hair.
The small scar above his eyebrow from falling off a bicycle when he was ten.
Her eyes filled.
"Oh, Danny."
She touched the glass.
Voss heard her voice break.
"He's there?"
"Yes."
"Describe him."
Cora swallowed.
"He's wearing a blue work jacket. His hair's a mess. He's smiling like someone just told him a terrible joke."
Voss exhaled.
"That sounds right."
She studied the other two men.
One was Rourke.
The fourth was unfamiliar.
Tall.
Thin.
Silver-haired.
Wearing a navy suit.
"Who's the fourth man?"
Voss went still.
"Describe him."
She did.
His expression changed.
"Adrian Mercer."
"Who is he?"
"My former financial director."
Cora stared.
"Former?"
Voss nodded.
"He disappeared after the fire."
Cora looked at the white paper tucked behind the frame.
She pulled it free.
A single sentence had been written in blue ink.
THE WRONG MAN DIED AT PIER SEVENTEEN.
Cora's breath caught.
Voss heard it.
"What?"
May you like
She read the sentence aloud.
For the first time, the Ghost looked afraid.
