Chapter 2 - THE WOMAN WHO COULD REPAIR WHAT OTHERS DESTROYED
Hollis Brennan had never asked Adeline what she kept in the trunk of her car.
He knew she slept there.
He knew she sometimes skipped meals.
And he knew she always insisted on helping him unload deliveries in exchange for the coffee and sandwiches he offered.
But he had never imagined that beneath those blankets lay a professional conservation kit.
Adeline opened the trunk.
Inside the wrapped bundle were delicate brushes, magnifying lenses, small clamps, archival materials, and a battered notebook.
Dale stared.
"What are those?"
"My old tools."
Hollis held the broken plate carefully.
"Can you fix it?"
Adeline hesitated.
"Not so the damage disappears completely."
Hollis nodded.
"I don't need it perfect."
She looked at him.
"I just want it together again," he said.
Something in his voice broke through her defenses.
Adeline swallowed.
"Then I'll try."
They brought the fragments into Brennan's kitchen.
Adeline cleared a small table beside the window.
She laid out every piece.
Counted them.
Examined the fractures.
Then opened her notebook.
Hollis watched her hands.
They were no longer the hands of a frightened woman searching for work.
They moved with precision.
Confidence.
Memory.
"Where did you learn this?" Dale asked.
Adeline looked down.
"At the Rhode Island School of Design."
Both brothers stared.
"You went to RISD?" Hollis asked.
She nodded.
"I studied conservation."
"What happened?"
Her hands stopped.
For several seconds, she said nothing.
Then:
"My husband."
She had married Daniel Vance when she was twenty-six.
He was an attorney.
Charming.
Successful.
He encouraged her career at first.
Then began controlling it.
He questioned her clients.
Her schedule.
Her earnings.
Eventually, he convinced her to leave a prestigious restoration project.
When she refused to sign documents he placed before her, their marriage collapsed.
She lost access to their shared accounts.
Her reputation was damaged by accusations she couldn't afford to fight.
And after a long legal battle, she found herself with almost nothing.
Hollis listened quietly.
Then asked:
"Did you do what he accused you of?"
Adeline looked up.
"No."
Hollis nodded.
"Then that's enough for me."
Her eyes filled.
By evening, she had stabilized the largest fragments.
The plate would require careful work.
Days, perhaps weeks.
But it could be restored for display.
Hollis stood beside her.
"How much?"
Adeline shook her head.
"Nothing."
He frowned.
"That's not how this works."
She smiled faintly.
"Consider it repayment for letting me park behind your restaurant."
Hollis looked at her.
Then said:
"You can park there as long as you need."
That night, Enzo Rinaldi received the first report on Preston Cain.
It contained financial irregularities.
Property acquisitions.
Unusual transfers.
And a series of redevelopment proposals targeting small family businesses.
At the bottom was one name.
Brennan's Restaurant.
Enzo stared.
Then asked Silvano, his attorney:
"Who owns the land?"
Silvano checked the file.
"A holding company connected to Cain."
Enzo leaned back.
"And who owns that company?"
Silvano hesitated.
"That's the interesting part."
He turned the page.
"The controlling investor is a subsidiary of Rinaldi Holdings."
Enzo went still.
"So Cain is using my money."
Silvano nodded.
"To force people out of their homes and businesses."
May you like
Enzo's expression hardened.
"Then tomorrow, we find out how many."
