Chapter 3 - THE MAN IN THE PHOTOGRAPH
Belle did not open the door.
Rainwater ran from Renick’s coat and collected on the concrete step.
Inside the apartment, the refrigerator hummed.
Micah slept twelve feet away.
Belle stared at the photograph through the narrow gap.
She had not seen Owen Ashford’s face in seven years.
Not clearly.
There were pictures in a storage box beneath her bed, but she had stopped opening it after Micah turned four.
Grief could change shape if you left it untouched long enough.
Sometimes it stopped feeling like pain and started feeling like architecture.
Something you simply lived inside.
“Where did you get that?” she asked.
“I told you.”
“Your brother’s safe?”
“Yes.”
“Why were you searching his safe?”
Renick’s jaw tightened.
“Because my daughter almost died.”
Belle looked again at Owen.
He had been twenty-nine in the photograph.
Dark hair.
Green eyes.
A crooked smile.
The wedding ring Belle had bought for forty dollars at a pawn shop glinted on his left hand.
She remembered that shirt.
Blue flannel.
She had burned it after his funeral.
“Who is the other man?” Renick asked.
Belle looked closer.
She had been so focused on Owen that she had barely noticed the blurred figure behind them.
Older.
Broad shoulders.
Gray suit.
Standing near the SUV.
Her stomach twisted.
“I don’t know.”
Renick’s eyes hardened.
“You’re lying.”
Belle nearly slammed the door.
“Get off my steps.”
“Belle.”
“You come to my home in the middle of the night, show me my dead husband’s picture, and call me a liar?”
“The man behind you was my father.”
She stopped.
Rain struck the metal awning.
Renick held her gaze.
“Cormac Kavanaugh.”
The name meant nothing to Belle.
The surname did.
She looked back at the photograph.
“I never met your father.”
“He died nine years ago.”
“Owen died seven years ago.”
“I know.”
“How?”
Renick’s silence answered.
Belle’s anger rose.
“You investigated me.”
“After today? Yes.”
“You had no right.”
“My daughter nearly fell twenty-three feet from a balcony, and the boy who saved her turns out to be the son of a man whose photograph was hidden in my brother’s private safe. Rights are not my first concern tonight.”
Belle stared at him.
That was Renick Kavanaugh.
Not the terrified father from the balcony.
This was the man Boston whispered about.
Controlled.
Cold.
Accustomed to moving the world until answers appeared.
Belle reached for the door.
“Good night.”
“Your husband didn’t die in a construction accident.”
Her hand stopped.
Seven years vanished.
She was twenty-five again.
Standing in a hospital corridor with newborn Micah sleeping against her chest while a police officer explained that Owen’s truck had gone through a guardrail outside Worcester.
The body had been badly burned.
Identification had been made through dental records.
Belle had been too numb to ask many questions.
She had buried a sealed coffin.
“What did you say?”
Renick looked at her carefully.
“I said the report was false.”
Belle opened the door wider.
The chain remained between them.
“You have ten seconds.”
“Owen Ashford was never employed by Marten Construction.”
Belle’s mouth went dry.
“That was his company.”
“No company by that name existed at the address on his employment records.”
“How would you know?”
“I had people check.”
“Tonight?”
“Yes.”
“That’s impossible.”
“Not for me.”
Belle hated that answer because she believed it.
Renick lifted the photograph.
“My father kept off-book security teams. Drivers, accountants, messengers, people who handled problems that were never supposed to appear on payroll. Your husband was one of them.”
Belle shook her head.
“Owen installed commercial fire systems.”
“Maybe.”
“He hated guns.”
“Most useful people do.”
“You don’t know him.”
“No. But someone in my family did.”
Belle’s eyes fell again to the photo.
“Declan.”
“Possibly.”
“Your brother tried to kill Brinley?”
“I didn’t say that.”
“She said uncle.”
“She has three.”
Belle blinked.
Renick continued.
“Declan. My half brother Patrick. And my late wife’s brother, Callum Vale.”
“Where were they today?”
“Declan was in the east wing. Patrick claims he was downtown. Callum arrived from New York this afternoon.”
Belle laughed once without humor.
“Healthy family.”
For a second, something like appreciation flickered in Renick’s eyes.
Then Micah called from the bedroom.
“Mom?”
Belle immediately turned.
“I’m here.”
Tiny footsteps approached.
She closed the door enough to hide the photograph.
Micah appeared in dinosaur pajamas.
His hair stood on one side.
Then he saw Renick.
“Oh.”
Renick’s whole posture changed.
Not much.
But enough.
“Sorry I woke you.”
“You didn’t.”
Micah looked at the rain.
“Why are you wet?”
“Forgot an umbrella.”
Micah frowned as if this were a serious moral failure.
“We have two.”
Belle almost smiled.
Renick did.
Barely.
Then Micah noticed the photograph.
“What’s that?”
Belle reacted too late.
Micah slipped beneath her arm and looked through the gap.
His face changed.
“Dad.”
Renick watched him.
Belle’s throat tightened.
Micah reached toward the picture.
Renick handed it through the opening.
The boy held it carefully.
“Where did you get this?”
“From my house.”
Micah looked at Belle.
“Dad went there?”
Belle had no answer.
Micah studied the image.
Then he pointed at the black SUV.
“That’s the car.”
Belle felt cold.
“What car?”
Micah looked confused.
“The car from Dad’s box.”
“What box?”
“The metal one.”
Belle stared at him.
Micah seemed to realize he had said something wrong.
“Micah.”
He looked down.
“What metal box?”
“In the wall.”
Renick’s eyes sharpened.
Belle unhooked the chain and pulled the door open.
“What wall?”
Micah pointed toward his bedroom.
Belle walked so quickly he had to run to keep up.
His room was barely large enough for a twin bed, bookshelf, and small desk.
Micah went to the radiator.
He knelt.
Then he pulled aside a loose section of baseboard.
Belle’s heart slammed.
There was a cavity behind it.
Micah reached inside.
“Don’t touch anything,” Renick said.
Too late.
Micah withdrew a flat black metal case.
Belle stared.
“How long has that been there?”
“I found it last winter.”
“And you didn’t tell me?”
“I thought it was Dad’s.”
“That is exactly why you should have told me.”
Micah’s lower lip tightened.
“I’m sorry.”
Belle instantly regretted the sharpness.
She knelt.
“No. I’m sorry. I’m scared.”
Micah nodded.
“I know.”
Those two words hurt more than anything.
Renick crouched beside them.
“May I?”
Micah handed him the case.
There was no lock.
Only two rusted clasps.
Renick opened them.
Inside were three things.
A burned photograph.
A silver key.
And a folded piece of paper sealed inside plastic.
Belle reached for it.
Renick stopped her.
“Gloves.”
“This is my husband’s.”
“If someone hid it here, we need to preserve whatever’s on it.”
“This apartment was empty for two years before we moved in.”
Renick looked at her.
“What?”
Belle stared at the wall.
“I didn’t live here when Owen died.”
Now Renick understood.
“Then he didn’t hide it for you.”
Micah whispered, “Maybe somebody else did.”
Belle looked at her son.
The thought was worse.
Renick called Sully.
Ten minutes later, two black SUVs stopped outside.
Belle almost refused to let anyone enter.
Then one of Renick’s security specialists opened the plastic sleeve with nitrile gloves.
The letter inside was written in Owen’s handwriting.
Belle knew immediately.
Three lines.
That was all.
If anything happens to me, find the ledger before Kavanaugh does.
Trust no brother.
B.A. knows where the first key goes.
Belle stopped breathing.
Renick’s face became unreadable.
Micah looked between the adults.
“What does it mean?”
Belle could barely speak.
“My initials are B.A.”
Renick looked at her.
“Belle Ashford.”
She nodded.
“No.”
“What?”
She stared again at the note.
“Owen never called me Belle in writing.”
Renick waited.
“He called me Isabella.”
Renick’s eyes narrowed.
Belle’s full name had been Isabella Belle Ashford before she shortened it after Owen’s death.
“He hated initials,” she whispered. “Said they caused confusion.”
Renick looked at the final line.
“Then B.A. isn’t you.”
A sound came from the hallway.
Soft.
Metal against concrete.
Renick moved instantly.
He stepped between Belle and the bedroom door.
His hand went beneath his coat.
One of the guards turned.
The basement lights went out.
Micah gasped.
Glass shattered in the kitchen.
May you like
A man shouted.
Then Renick grabbed Belle and Micah and forced them to the floor just as three gunshots punched through the apartment door.
