Chapter 2 - The Wife Who Was Supposed to Be Dead
Twelve hours later, Hazel sat in a private hospital room wondering how her life had gone from cleaning champagne stains to being guarded by two men who looked capable of breaking furniture without raising their voices.
Raymond sat in bed with his left hand bandaged and burns treated beneath the collar of a hospital shirt.
“You don’t need guards outside my room,” Hazel said.
“They’re outside my room.”
“They followed me to the vending machine.”
“Then they’re enthusiastic.”
Hazel folded her arms.
Raymond watched her for several seconds.
“You don’t seem frightened.”
“I’m terrified.”
“You hide it well.”
“I spent seven years cleaning hotel bathrooms. I can hide anything.”
The corner of his mouth moved.
A silver-haired man entered.
“Raymond.”
“Frank.”
Frank DeMarco, Raymond’s attorney and longtime adviser, placed a folder on the table.
“The official investigators believe the fire began in the electrical room.”
Hazel immediately said, “They’re wrong.”
Frank looked at her.
Raymond said, “She stays.”
Frank opened the folder.
“Security cameras stopped recording eleven minutes before the fire.”
Raymond’s expression didn’t change.
“Who had access?”
“Security chief. Club manager. You.”
“And Vivien.”
Frank hesitated.
“Yes.”
Hazel leaned forward.
“What was in the leather case?”
Raymond looked at her.
“You ask dangerous questions.”
“You survived a basement fire because I ask inconvenient questions.”
Frank almost smiled.
Raymond exhaled.
“Financial ledgers.”
“Illegal?”
Raymond paused.
“Complicated.”
“That means yes.”
Frank coughed.
Raymond gave Hazel a long look.
“The case contained records of payments between several companies.”
“Why would your wife take them?”
“That,” Raymond said, “is what I intend to discover.”
A knock sounded.
Walter entered.
He carried a sealed evidence bag.
Inside was a damaged black high heel.
Hazel stood.
“That’s it.”
Walter nodded.
“Found near the east parking gate.”
Frank frowned.
“If Vivien escaped, why leave the shoe?”
“Maybe she didn’t mean to,” Hazel said.
Raymond looked toward Walter.
“Anything else?”
Walter hesitated.
“Tire marks.”
“From the sedan?”
“Probably.”
“And?”
Walter glanced at Hazel.
Raymond’s voice sharpened.
“Say it.”
“The tire pattern matches vehicles used by Marcus Vale.”
Frank swore quietly.
Hazel looked between them.
“Who’s Marcus Vale?”
Raymond answered.
“My wife’s brother.”
Hazel understood immediately.
“So your wife tried to kill you and ran to her brother.”
“We don’t know that yet.”
“She barred the door.”
Raymond’s gaze shifted toward her.
“You’re certain?”
“I pulled the bar off myself.”
Frank said, “If Vivien and Marcus planned this, there’s a second problem.”
Raymond looked at him.
“They wouldn’t burn the club only to kill me.”
“No.”
Frank opened another page.
“Three of your warehouses were attacked during the fire.”
Hazel stared.
Raymond became very still.
“A coordinated move.”
Frank nodded.
“Marcus is telling people you died.”
“And if everyone believes it?”
“He becomes the strongest man on the west side by tonight.”
Hazel looked at Raymond.
“Your wife didn’t just try to kill you.”
Raymond’s expression went cold.
“She tried to start a war.”
The hospital door suddenly opened.
One of Raymond’s guards stepped inside.
“We intercepted someone downstairs.”
“Who?”
“A reporter.”
Frank frowned.
“At this hour?”
“He wasn’t carrying a press badge.”
Raymond looked at Frank.
“Bring him up.”
Minutes later, two guards escorted a nervous man into the room.
He was perhaps thirty-five, wearing a cheap gray jacket.
Raymond said, “Name.”
“Daniel Mercer.”
“Occupation?”
“Freelance reporter.”
“You entered through a staff elevator.”
Daniel swallowed.
“I need to speak to Hazel Keen.”
Everyone looked at her.
Hazel pointed to herself.
“Me?”
Daniel reached slowly into his jacket.
The guards moved.
“Easy,” he said.
He produced an envelope.
“I received this at my office two days ago.”
Raymond held out his hand.
Frank opened the envelope first.
Inside were photographs.
Vivien meeting Marcus Vale.
Vivien entering a private bank.
Vivien standing beside the black sedan.
And one photograph of Mrs. Rosa Delgado speaking with Daniel outside the club.
Hazel’s face changed.
“Rosa?”
Daniel nodded.
“She contacted me.”
“Why?”
“She found something while cleaning Raymond Castellano’s office at the club.”
Raymond sat forward.
“What?”
Daniel looked at him.
“She found copies of transfers showing your wife had been sending money to Marcus Vale for six months.”
Hazel whispered, “Rosa knew.”
“She wanted to expose it.”
Raymond’s jaw tightened.
Daniel continued.
“She was supposed to meet me after the gala.”
Hazel looked down.
“But she went back inside.”
“Yes.”
“Did Vivien know Rosa had copies?”
Daniel nodded.
“I think so.”
Raymond looked toward the window.
Hazel finally understood why Rosa’s death suddenly felt even darker.
“That fire wasn’t only about Raymond.”
Daniel shook his head.
“No.”
Hazel finished for him.
“It was about destroying the evidence and everyone who knew.”
Then Raymond turned toward Frank.
“Tell Chicago I’m dead.”
Frank stared at him.
“What?”
Hazel looked over.
Raymond’s voice remained calm.
“Marcus wants my territory because he believes the fire worked.”
A dangerous smile appeared.
May you like
“Let him keep believing it.”
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