Chapter 6 - The City Saw Everything
Helena woke fourteen days later.
The first thing she saw was sunlight.
The second was Marcus Ferraro sitting beside the window.
She stared at him.
He looked different.
Cleaner.
Tired.
There was a bandage beneath his shirt near his shoulder.
“You’re alive,” she whispered.
Marcus looked up.
“So are you.”
She tried to sit.
Pain answered immediately.
“Bad idea,” he said.
“How long?”
“Fourteen days.”
Her eyes widened.
“What happened?”
“Hale was arrested.”
“Barrett?”
“Also arrested.”
“Renner?”
“Alive.”
“The girl?”
“Alive.”
Helena closed her eyes.
Then opened them again.
“What about you?”
Marcus leaned back.
“What about me?”
“You walked into a hospital covered in blood carrying a detective.”
“It seemed rude to leave you outside.”
She almost laughed.
“Were you arrested?”
“For six hours.”
“And?”
“Released.”
“Why?”
“Half the city had cameras pointed at me.”
Helena remembered nothing after the pier.
Marcus reached into his pocket.
He placed the bronze St. Michael medal on the table.
Helena stared at it.
“You found it?”
“It fell when they cut your shirt.”
She picked it up.
“Why didn’t you keep it?”
Marcus looked confused.
“It’s yours.”
“You said it belonged to you first.”
“It belonged to my mother first.”
“Then you.”
“Then Thomas.”
He looked at Helena.
“Now you.”
A knock interrupted them.
Warren Hale’s replacement entered with two state investigators.
Helena immediately tensed.
Marcus stood.
“I’ll leave.”
The investigator stopped him.
“Actually, Mr. Ferraro, stay.”
Marcus looked surprised.
The investigator turned to Helena.
“We reviewed Thomas Callahan’s original case.”
Helena’s chest tightened.
“And?”
“His death has been officially reclassified.”
She stared.
“In the line of duty?”
“Yes.”
Helena said nothing.
The investigator continued.
“Captain Barrett has entered negotiations. Renner’s testimony matches documentary evidence recovered from the archive. Hale’s offshore accounts have been identified.”
Helena looked at Marcus.
He was watching her, not the investigator.
“What about my father’s corruption finding?”
“Vacated.”
Helena’s eyes filled despite her efforts.
The investigator lowered his voice.
“Thomas Callahan died investigating organized theft and corruption inside the Providence Police Department.”
For twelve years, Helena had imagined hearing those words.
They felt quieter than expected.
No music.
No crowd.
Just truth finally arriving late.
“What happens now?” she asked.
“We rebuild the case.”
“And Hale?”
“Federal charges. State charges. Conspiracy. Murder.”
Marcus said:
“Good.”
The investigator looked at him.
“We’ll also need further statements from you.”
Marcus’s expression returned to neutral.
“Expected.”
After they left, Helena looked toward the window.
“My mother should have heard that.”
Marcus didn’t answer immediately.
“No,” he finally said.
Helena looked at him.
“She should have never needed to.”
The simplicity of it hit her harder than sympathy would have.
She nodded.
A few minutes later, Helena asked:
“What happens to us?”
Marcus’s eyebrows lifted.
“Us?”
“Don’t make me regret asking.”
He almost smiled.
“You’re a detective.”
“Yes.”
“I’m still me.”
“Unfortunately.”
“And you were assigned to destroy my organization.”
Helena looked at him.
“I was assigned to destroy what Hale told me your organization was.”
Marcus leaned forward.
“And now?”
“Now I investigate crimes instead of convenient targets.”
Marcus studied her.
“That sounds dangerous for me.”
“It probably is.”
Silence.
Then Helena said:
“You saved my life.”
“Your father saved mine.”
“That doesn’t explain carrying me into a hospital full of cops.”
Marcus looked down at his tattooed hands.
“No.”
“What does?”
He met her eyes.
“I didn’t want you to die.”
Helena waited.
Marcus added:
“I still don’t.”
It was the closest thing to an emotional confession either of them seemed capable of handling.
Helena nodded toward the coffee on the table.
“Is that mine?”
Marcus handed it to her.
She took one sip.
“It’s terrible.”
“You were unconscious when I ordered it.”
“That’s your defense?”
“Yes.”
“I almost died and you still couldn’t find decent coffee?”
Marcus stood.
“I’m leaving.”
She grabbed his sleeve.
He stopped.
Helena looked at her hand, then at him.
“Come back tomorrow.”
Marcus’s expression softened almost imperceptibly.
“What time?”
“Seven.”
“That’s early.”
“You run an empire.”
“I run freight companies.”
“Sure.”
Marcus reached the door.
Helena called after him.
“Marcus.”
He turned.
“Thank you.”
He looked at her for a long moment.
Then nodded once.
May you like
“Seven.”
---
