Chapter 2 - THE DEAD MAN’S NAME
Vincent spent the next hour inside his study with Marco and his accountant, Louis Greco.
Daniel Brooks had worked as a logistics analyst for Caruso Freight.
Quiet job.
Numbers.
Routes.
Vendor reconciliations.
The kind of employee Vincent would normally never meet.
But Daniel had noticed irregularities.
Five years earlier, several vendors were being paid for shipments that did not exist.
Daniel reported it.
The complaint vanished into internal management.
Three weeks later, Daniel died when his car left an icy road outside Rockford.
Police ruled it an accident.
At the time, no one connected the two events.
Vincent had never even heard Daniel’s name.
That bothered him.
His businesses were large enough that he could not know every employee.
But three million dollars had just disappeared using the dead man’s vendor credentials.
Someone wanted Daniel Brooks to take the blame.
A dead man could not defend himself.
Marco leaned over the desk.
“You think Hannah knows?”
“I don’t know.”
“You think she’s involved?”
Vincent looked toward the hallway.
He saw Ellie’s face.
Say sorry to my mommy.
“No.”
Marco raised an eyebrow.
“That was quick.”
“She works twelve-hour shifts cleaning my house.”
“That doesn’t prove innocence.”
“No.”
Vincent’s voice cooled.
“But we don’t accuse people without evidence.”
Marco almost smiled.
“Preschooler really changed the operating manual.”
Vincent ignored him.
He pulled Daniel’s old employment file.
Emergency contact:
Hannah Brooks.
Address:
A small apartment in Waukegan.
One child listed as dependent.
Daniel’s performance reviews were excellent.
Then Vincent found the original complaint.
Seven pages.
Daniel had identified fake vendors associated with three executives inside Caruso Freight.
One name was familiar.
Anthony Caruso.
Vincent’s cousin.
Vincent stared at the screen.
Anthony had worked beside him for fifteen years.
Managed western freight operations.
Attended Sunday dinners.
Was godfather to Vincent’s nephew.
And now his name appeared in a report buried five years earlier.
“Where is Anthony?” Vincent asked.
Marco checked.
“New York.”
“Why?”
“Says he’s meeting port brokers.”
“Get him back.”
Marco nodded.
Vincent hesitated.
“Quietly.”
He did not want Anthony to know Daniel’s file had resurfaced.
Then Hannah knocked.
Vincent closed the documents.
“Come in.”
She entered with a bandage around her palm.
Ellie held her other hand.
“I wanted to ask permission to leave early.”
Permission.
After what he had done, the word bothered him.
“Yes.”
Hannah looked surprised.
“Of course.”
“I’ll make up the hours.”
“No.”
“Mr. Caruso—”
“You’re injured.”
“It’s a cut.”
“And your daughter has spent three hours sitting in a house full of adults who act like sunlight is a security risk.”
Ellie looked at him.
“I like your library.”
Vincent glanced at her.
“You can read?”
“No.”
“Then what do you like?”
“The ladder.”
That actually made him smile.
Hannah noticed.
Something in her expression softened for half a second.
Then Vincent asked:
“Your husband’s name was Daniel?”
Hannah froze.
Every trace of softness disappeared.
“Yes.”
“You never mentioned he worked for one of my companies.”
Her eyes became guarded.
“You never asked.”
Fair.
“What did he do?”
“Logistics.”
“For how long?”
“Four years.”
“Did he ever talk about problems at work?”
Hannah stared at him.
The room seemed to get colder.
“Why?”
Vincent chose honesty.
“His name appeared in a financial investigation today.”
Her face went pale.
“What kind?”
“Someone used an old authorization connected to him.”
“He’s dead.”
“I know.”
“Then how?”
“That’s what I’m trying to find out.”
Hannah pulled Ellie closer.
“What are you accusing him of?”
“Nothing.”
“You just asked whether he had problems at work.”
“Because he filed a complaint.”
Hannah stopped breathing.
“You found it?”
Vincent became still.
“You knew?”
Hannah looked toward Ellie.
Then back.
“Yes.”
“How much?”
“Enough.”
Vincent closed the study door.
“Ellie can sit in the library with Mrs. Nolan.”
“No.”
Hannah’s answer came immediately.
“She stays with me.”
Vincent studied her.
Fear.
Not of him exactly.
Of the subject.
“Fine.”
He remained behind the desk.
“Tell me.”
Hannah shook her head.
“No.”
“Hannah—”
“My husband died five years ago.”
“I know.”
“And after he died, two men came to our apartment.”
Vincent went silent.
“What men?”
“I don’t know.”
“They threatened you?”
“They asked for Daniel’s files.”
“What files?”
“He kept copies of his work.”
Vincent’s pulse changed.
“Where?”
“I destroyed them.”
Something about her answer was wrong.
Too quick.
“You’re lying.”
Hannah’s face hardened.
“I have a daughter.”
“That’s not an answer.”
“It’s the only one you’re getting.”
Vincent stood.
Ellie moved closer to Hannah.
He immediately stopped.
The little girl’s eyes were afraid now.
Of him.
That bothered him far more than it should have.
Vincent lowered his voice.
“I’m not going to hurt you.”
Hannah laughed once.
“Men said that after my husband died too.”
“Who?”
“I told you. I don’t know.”
“What did they want?”
“Daniel had discovered money being moved through fake trucking vendors.”
Vincent glanced at Marco through the glass doors.
Exactly what the report said.
Hannah continued.
“He told me if anything happened to him, I should take a package to the police.”
“Did you?”
“No.”
“Why?”
“Because he died in a car accident, and the next morning someone broke into our apartment without stealing jewelry, cash, or electronics.”
Her eyes filled.
“They took only his work computer.”
Vincent felt cold.
“What about the package?”
Hannah said nothing.
“You still have it.”
Silence.
Vincent understood.
“That is why you came to work here.”
Hannah’s face changed.
“No.”
“You started three years ago. Two years after Daniel died.”
“I needed money.”
“You could have worked anywhere.”
“Not anywhere pays this well.”
True.
Still.
He watched her carefully.
“Were you trying to investigate me?”
“No.”
“What were you doing?”
Hannah’s composure cracked.
“I wanted to know if you killed my husband.”
The room went silent.
Ellie looked between them, confused.
Vincent had been accused of many things.
Some true.
Some exaggerated.
Some invented.
But this landed differently.
“Did you find your answer?”
Hannah’s eyes filled.
“I don’t know.”
Vincent stared.
Then reached for his phone.
“What are you doing?”
“Calling my attorney.”
Hannah stepped back.
“For what?”
“To reopen every internal record connected to Daniel’s death.”
“You believe me?”
“I believe someone buried his complaint.”
Vincent’s voice hardened.
“And if someone inside my organization caused his death, I want to know.”
Hannah studied him.
“What happens if it was someone close to you?”
Vincent thought of Anthony.
Family.
Blood.
Sunday dinner.
Then he looked at Ellie.
A child growing up without a father.
“The same thing that happens if it was a stranger.”
Hannah did not look convinced.
Before she could answer, Marco entered.
“Boss.”
“What?”
“Anthony just called.”
Vincent frowned.
“He’s not coming back from New York.”
“Why?”
“He says there’s an emergency.”
“What emergency?”
Marco handed Vincent the phone.
Anthony had sent a photograph.
Hannah’s face drained when she saw it.
The photograph showed Daniel Brooks.
Alive.
May you like
Taken three days after the date on his official death certificate.
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