Chapter 5 - THE NIGHT OWEN DIED
Belle crossed the distance between them before she knew she was moving.
Her palm struck Sully’s face.
The sound echoed through the entry hall.
Nobody stopped her.
Not the guards.
Not Maeve.
Not Renick.
Sully simply turned his face back toward her.
A red mark spread across his cheek.
“You let me bury him,” Belle whispered.
Sully’s eyes lowered.
“You let me believe he died in an accident.”
“Yes.”
“For seven years.”
“Yes.”
Micah stood frozen.
Belle suddenly remembered he was there.
She turned.
His face had become very still.
Too still.
“Micah—”
“My dad didn’t die in a crash?”
Belle could not answer.
Sully closed his eyes.
Renick stepped between them.
“Not here.”
Belle rounded on him.
“You don’t get to decide where I hear the truth.”
“I’m trying to keep your son from hearing details he cannot unhear.”
“He already heard enough.”
Micah’s voice was small.
“Did Dad do bad things?”
Belle’s heart broke.
“No.”
Sully answered too.
“No.”
Micah looked at him.
“You knew him?”
“Yes.”
“Was he bad?”
Sully swallowed.
“Your father was one of the bravest men I ever knew.”
Belle laughed bitterly.
“Wonderful. Maybe put that on the grave that apparently contains what, exactly?”
Sully flinched.
Renick looked toward Maeve.
“Take the children upstairs.”
Belle said, “Micah stays with me.”
“Mom.”
She looked down.
He was exhausted.
Brinley had taken his hand.
“I want to go with her.”
Belle hesitated.
Everything inside her screamed not to let him out of sight.
But Renick’s estate was surrounded by security.
Then again, his daughter had nearly fallen from a balcony inside that same estate.
Belle crouched.
“Stay in the library. Nowhere else.”
Micah nodded.
“Promise?”
“Promise.”
Brinley whispered, “We can build the bird puzzle.”
Maeve led them upstairs with two guards.
Belle watched until Micah disappeared.
Then she faced Sully.
“Talk.”
They moved into the kitchen.
Not the formal dining room.
Not Renick’s study.
The kitchen.
Belle found that strangely appropriate.
Truth belonged under harsh lights.
Sully sat.
He looked older than he had an hour earlier.
“Owen began working for Cormac Kavanaugh ten years ago.”
“What did he do?”
“Surveillance systems.”
Belle almost laughed.
“Fire systems.”
“That was real too.”
“So his normal job was cover?”
“Partly.”
Renick stood against the counter, arms folded.
Apparently he did not know this story either.
Sully continued.
“Cormac trusted very few people. Owen had a talent for noticing vulnerabilities. Cameras. Entry routes. Blind spots.”
Belle thought about Micah.
The balcony door.
The old red car.
The lighthouse decal.
Her stomach tightened.
“Cormac hired him after Owen found a flaw in the security system of one of our warehouses.”
“How?”
“He was installing fire alarms.”
Of course.
“Owen warned Cormac someone could access the building through a service corridor without appearing on camera.”
“What happened?”
“Three nights later someone tried.”
Belle stared.
“Your father thought Owen saved his life?”
“Yes.”
Renick finally spoke.
“Why didn’t I know him?”
“You were in New York overseeing the waterfront operation.”
“Three years?”
“Cormac kept teams separate.”
Renick’s expression darkened.
“He kept secrets.”
Sully looked at him.
“Yes.”
Belle leaned forward.
“The night Owen died.”
Sully exhaled slowly.
“By then, your husband believed someone inside the Kavanaugh organization was stealing from Cormac.”
“Money?”
“Money. Weapons. Information.”
Renick straightened.
“What information?”
“Routes. Safe houses. Family schedules.”
Renick’s face hardened.
“Who?”
“We never proved it.”
Belle slapped the table.
“Stop saying we.”
Sully looked at her.
“You were there.”
“Yes.”
“Tell me exactly what happened.”
Sully’s voice grew quieter.
“Owen called me at 11:16 p.m. He said he had the ledger.”
“The note mentioned a ledger.”
“Yes.”
“What was in it?”
“I never saw it.”
“You expect me to believe that?”
“I do.”
Sully’s eyes were wet now.
Belle did not care.
“Where did you meet him?”
“An old machine shop outside Worcester.”
“And?”
“He was bleeding.”
Belle stopped breathing.
“He had been shot.”
Micah had been six weeks old.
Belle remembered that night.
Owen had kissed her forehead before leaving.
He had told her he needed to check a commercial alarm system.
He smelled like baby powder because Micah had spit up on his shirt.
Belle had laughed.
“Where?”
Sully looked at the table.
“His side.”
“Was he alive?”
“Yes.”
“How long?”
Sully swallowed.
“Twenty minutes.”
Belle’s eyes filled.
“You were with him.”
“Yes.”
“What did he say?”
Sully stared at her.
“He said, ‘Tell Isabella I tried to get home.’”
Belle made a sound she did not recognize.
She turned away.
The kitchen blurred.
For seven years, she had imagined Owen alone inside a burning truck.
She had imagined whether he called her name.
Whether he had been conscious.
Whether he had been afraid.
Now there was an answer.
He had tried to come home.
Renick quietly pulled out a chair.
Belle sat because her knees would not hold her.
Sully continued.
“He gave me the silver key.”
Belle looked up sharply.
“The one in the box?”
“Yes.”
“How did it get into my apartment?”
“I don’t know.”
“You had it.”
“For less than ten minutes.”
“What happened?”
“Men arrived.”
“Whose?”
“I never saw their faces.”
Sully’s hands tightened.
“Owen told me to run.”
“And you left him?”
“I had no weapon.”
“You left him.”
“Yes.”
Belle stood so quickly the chair fell.
“You left my husband bleeding on a floor?”
“He made me go.”
“You could have called an ambulance!”
“I did.”
“But?”
“There was an explosion before they arrived.”
Belle stared.
“The truck?”
“No.”
Sully shook his head.
“The machine shop.”
Silence filled the kitchen.
Renick spoke.
“Then where did the truck accident come from?”
Sully looked at him.
“Cormac.”
Renick’s eyes became dangerous.
“My father staged it?”
“He ordered the death concealed.”
“Why?”
“To protect Belle and the baby.”
Belle laughed through tears.
“Protect us?”
“If whoever killed Owen believed he had told you something, you would have been next.”
“So everyone lied.”
“Yes.”
“The police?”
“Some.”
“The funeral home?”
“Yes.”
“The body?”
Sully hesitated.
Belle’s voice cracked.
“What did I bury?”
“A coffin filled with sandbags.”
She stared at him.
Then turned and vomited into the sink.
Renick moved toward her.
Belle shoved him away.
“Don’t.”
He stopped.
Sully whispered, “I’m sorry.”
Belle rinsed her mouth.
She looked at him through tears.
“You don’t get to say that.”
“No.”
“What happened to Owen’s body?”
Sully’s face changed.
Renick noticed.
“So there was a body?” he asked.
Sully looked toward him.
“I don’t know.”
Belle froze.
“What?”
“When emergency crews arrived, the building was burning.”
Sully’s voice dropped.
“No remains matching Owen were recovered.”
Belle stared.
The room seemed to tilt.
Renick said the words none of them wanted to say.
“He could have survived.”
Sully shook his head.
“Cormac believed he died.”
“Believed.”
“Yes.”
Belle gripped the counter.
Seven years of grief began tearing apart inside her.
“Did anyone search?”
“Cormac did.”
“For how long?”
“Months.”
“And found nothing?”
“Nothing.”
Belle closed her eyes.
Then the kitchen door opened.
Micah stood there.
He should not have been.
A guard was behind him, apologetic.
“Sorry. He slipped away.”
Micah looked at Belle.
His eyes were enormous.
“My dad might be alive?”
Belle’s heart stopped.
Before she could answer, Brinley came running down the hallway.
She was holding something.
A small black phone.
“Daddy!”
Renick turned.
Brinley handed it to him.
“It was in Uncle Declan’s room.”
Renick looked at the screen.
A new message glowed there.
THE BOY FOUND THE BOX.
FINISH WHAT OWEN STARTED.
And beneath it was a photograph taken less than ten minutes earlier.
May you like
Micah and Brinley upstairs in the library.
Someone inside the estate was still watching them.
