Chapter 5 - THE STORAGE UNIT FULL OF LIES
The storage facility stood beside a highway outside Scranton.
I didn't go alone.
Ben insisted on accompanying me, and I contacted a local attorney named Claire Donovan, who agreed to review the situation before anyone opened the unit.
Claire was forty-six, practical, and possessed an expression that made people stop talking when they realized she wasn't easily impressed.
She examined Dennis's card.
"How did you obtain this?"
I explained.
"And you haven't opened the unit?"
"No."
"Good."
She looked at Ben.
"Your sister has a habit of getting involved in unusual situations."
Ben sighed.
"You have no idea."
Claire almost smiled.
The storage company's manager confirmed that Dennis Crowley rented the unit.
But he wouldn't allow us access simply because we had his card.
Claire contacted the appropriate authorities and arranged for the information to be passed along.
I was disappointed.
Part of me had imagined walking inside and finding the answers neatly stacked in cardboard boxes.
Instead, I learned that investigating a possible crime involved procedures, permissions, and waiting.
Claire looked at me.
"Don't confuse impatience with courage, Lily."
I laughed weakly.
"My mother said something like that once."
"She sounds sensible."
"She was."
Two days later, investigators informed Claire that documents recovered from the unit were relevant to a broader inquiry.
They couldn't disclose everything.
But Dennis had apparently been keeping records involving several companies connected to the Vale shipping network.
One name appeared repeatedly.
Blackwater Maritime Holdings.
Dominic recognized it immediately.
"Arthur used that company years ago," he told me during a call.
"Was it legitimate?"
"Parts of it."
I sighed.
"That's a terrible answer."
"I know."
He paused.
"My father wanted to separate the lawful shipping businesses from the criminal operations. Arthur opposed him."
My chest tightened.
"Then your father died."
"Yes."
"And Arthur took over."
"For a while."
"What happened after you grew up?"
Dominic was quiet.
"I forced him out."
I stared.
"How old were you?"
"Twenty-two."
"That doesn't explain why everyone thinks he's dead."
Dominic looked away.
"Because after a violent conflict, he vanished. Several men claimed he'd been killed."
"But nobody found a body?"
"No."
I exhaled.
"Dominic, your uncle may have spent twenty-six years hiding while you built his former businesses into an empire."
He nodded slowly.
"And now someone may be using those businesses against me."
That Saturday, Dominic invited me to meet him at a public waterfront restaurant in New York.
I agreed on the condition that Ben knew where I was and Claire had the meeting details.
Dominic arrived early.
He wore a charcoal coat and no tie.
For a moment, he looked less like a feared criminal boss and more like a man who hadn't slept properly in years.
"You look tired," I said.
He smiled faintly.
"You sound like Grace."
I sat down.
"Was my mother really so important to you?"
His expression softened.
"She was the first adult who told me I was allowed to be frightened."
I looked at him.
He continued.
"Everyone else told me I had to be strong. She said strength didn't mean pretending nothing hurt."
My eyes filled.
"That sounds like her."
Dominic looked toward the river.
"She wanted me to testify about what happened."
"Did you?"
"Partly. But the investigation never went where it should have."
"Because Arthur threatened her?"
"Possibly. Because the people involved had money and connections. Because I was a frightened child whose account was challenged."
I studied him.
"And what did you do when you became powerful?"
His face hardened.
"I made sure nobody could hurt me again."
"By hurting people first?"
He looked at me.
For a moment, I thought he'd become angry.
Instead, he lowered his eyes.
"Sometimes."
The admission hung between us.
I didn't soften it.
He didn't ask me to.
When our food arrived, Dominic barely touched his plate.
I looked at him.
"Is something wrong?"
He hesitated.
Then asked, "Why did you wipe the blood away?"
I almost laughed.
"We've discussed this."
"I know."
"Because you were bleeding."
He studied me.
"You didn't ask who I was."
"I knew who you were."
"Then you knew what people said about me."
"Yes."
"And you still touched me."
I looked down.
"Dominic, I didn't make a moral judgment in that second. I saw someone with a cut."
His expression changed.
Then he whispered, "I haven't been able to forget that."
I felt something unfamiliar move in my chest.
Not fear.
Something warmer.
And far more dangerous.
As we left the restaurant, Marcus approached.
"Boss, we have a problem."
Dominic stopped.
"What?"
Marcus glanced toward me.
Then said quietly:
"Someone tried to access the old family trust."
Dominic's face hardened.
"Who?"
Marcus hesitated.
"The credentials were associated with your uncle's former attorney."
I stared.
Dominic looked toward the river.
May you like
Then whispered:
"He's coming back."
