Chapter 15 - THE THIRTY THOUSAND DOLLAR LIE
Z
Nell left the care facility without telling Carmine.
That was a mistake.
She knew it.
She made it anyway.
Emmett’s words followed her down the corridor.
I sold him something.
You.
She walked three blocks before realizing she had no destination.
Her father sold her?
What did that even mean?
Sold what?
Custody?
Information?
Access?
Had every person in her childhood lied?
Lydia.
Emmett.
Anthony.
Vincent.
Even love seemed to arrive twenty years late carrying documents.
Nell sat at a bus stop.
A black sedan stopped across the street.
Her heart jumped.
The rear window lowered.
Evelyn Marchand sat inside.
“Nell.”
Nell stood.
“You have terrible timing.”
“I know about the payment.”
Of course she did.
Nell laughed bitterly.
“Everyone knows everything except me.”
Evelyn opened the door.
“Get in.”
“No.”
“Nell.”
“No.”
A second car turned onto the street.
Nell recognized Carmine’s.
She almost felt relieved.
Almost.
Carmine got out.
He looked furious.
Not at her.
At the fact she had disappeared.
“You left without security.”
“I needed air.”
“You walked three blocks at two in the morning after DeLuca attacked my home.”
“Your home.”
“Our problem.”
Nell folded her arms.
Evelyn stepped out.
“Both of you stop.”
Carmine looked at her.
“This is not your conversation.”
“It is.”
Nell stared.
“Explain.”
Evelyn took a breath.
“The thirty thousand dollars was mine.”
Silence.
“What?”
“I transferred it through Bellarose’s company.”
Nell stepped closer.
“Why?”
“To create evidence that Bellarose believed he purchased something from Emmett.”
“What?”
“Your identity.”
Nell’s face went blank.
Evelyn continued.
“Lydia needed Bellarose to believe you were leaving Louisiana.”
Nell suddenly remembered Palmira.
Bellarose told the Orsinis that Emmett and Nell left Louisiana after Lydia died.
“You created the lie.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because Bellarose had begun asking whether Lydia gave you anything.”
“I was thirteen.”
“He didn’t care.”
Carmine’s voice hardened.
“So Emmett accepted a fake payment.”
“Yes.”
“What was the supposed transaction?”
Evelyn looked at Nell.
“Emmett signed papers claiming he accepted thirty thousand dollars to move with you to Canada under new identities.”
Nell stared.
“We never went to Canada.”
“No.”
“Then why sign?”
“To make Bellarose believe you had.”
Nell thought of Emmett saying I sold you.
His damaged memory had kept only fragments.
Money.
Paper.
His daughter.
Guilt.
“What happened to the money?”
Evelyn smiled sadly.
“Your father never touched it.”
“Where is it?”
“He donated it.”
“To whom?”
“Families of workers Bellarose exploited.”
Nell closed her eyes.
Of course he did.
Emmett Fontaine had spent twenty years carrying guilt for a lie designed to save his daughter.
And dementia had stripped away the context while preserving the shame.
Nell began crying.
Not dramatic tears.
Exhausted ones.
Carmine stepped closer.
She let him hold her.
For once, she did not pull away.
Evelyn waited.
Then said, “There is more.”
Nell laughed against Carmine’s chest.
“There is always more.”
Evelyn’s face remained serious.
“Marco DeLuca contacted me.”
Carmine’s arms tightened around Nell.
“When?”
“Tonight.”
“What does he want?”
“To trade.”
“For what?”
“The seventh tape.”
Carmine shook his head.
“No.”
“What does he offer?”
“Bellarose.”
Nell stepped back.
“He’ll testify?”
“No.”
Evelyn looked toward the street.
“He has a recording of Bellarose ordering Lydia’s death.”
Silence.
Everything stopped.
Nell whispered, “My mother’s crash was not an accident.”
Evelyn looked at her.
“I never believed it was.”
Carmine’s face became hard.
“Proof?”
“Marco says he has the original call.”
“Why would DeLuca have it?”
“His father received the order.”
Carmine understood.
The DeLuca family had carried out the crash.
Marco inherited evidence.
Insurance.
Protection against Bellarose.
“What does he want?”
“The tape of Anthony admitting his involvement.”
Carmine’s laugh contained no humor.
“So he can destroy my family if Bellarose destroys his.”
“Yes.”
Nell looked at Carmine.
“No.”
He met her eyes.
“No.”
Evelyn frowned.
“You haven’t heard the terms.”
Nell answered.
“We don’t trade evidence to protect reputations.”
Carmine looked at her.
Something like pride crossed his face.
Evelyn said, “Then Lydia’s murder may never be proven.”
The words hit hard.
Nell closed her eyes.
Her mother.
Eleven years.
A staged crash.
Conrad surviving.
Lydia dying.
She wanted the recording.
She wanted it so badly she could taste it.
Carmine could hand over Anthony’s tape.
A copy.
A secret exchange.
No one might ever know.
Then she remembered Lydia’s note.
This is not revenge.
Nell opened her eyes.
“We don’t trade.”
Evelyn sighed.
“Then what?”
Carmine answered.
“We make Marco believe we will.”
Two nights later, Marco DeLuca entered an abandoned river warehouse.
He expected Carmine.
He found Nell.
Marco stopped.
“This is cute.”
Nell stood beside an old worktable.
“No weapons.”
Marco laughed.
“You’re giving rules now?”
“Yes.”
He looked around.
Two of his men remained outside.
Carmine was somewhere nearby.
Marco knew that.
Nell knew he knew.
“Where’s the tape?”
“Where’s yours?”
Marco placed a digital recorder on the table.
Nell stared.
“Play it.”
“Yours first.”
“No.”
Marco smiled.
“You think you’re negotiating?”
“Yes.”
“You bake pies.”
“And you failed to break into a house owned by an eighty-one-year-old woman.”
His smile disappeared.
Good.
Nell continued.
“Play the recording.”
Marco pressed a button.
Static.
Then Bellarose’s voice.
“Lydia is driving back from Houston Friday.”
Another man answered.
“What do you want?”
“I want the envelope.”
“And her?”
A pause.
Bellarose said, “She knows too much.”
Nell stopped breathing.
The man asked, “Accident?”
“Yes.”
“And if she survives?”
“She doesn’t.”
Nell’s knees nearly failed.
Her mother had known.
Maybe not about the crash specifically.
But she knew the danger.
And she still came home.
Marco stopped the recording.
“Trade.”
Nell looked at him.
“No.”
His expression hardened.
“You wasted my time.”
“No.”
She placed a folder on the table.
“You’re going to give that recording to federal investigators.”
Marco laughed.
“Why?”
“Because Bellarose has been talking.”
Marco stopped.
“He told investigators your father ordered Lydia’s murder.”
“That’s a lie.”
“Probably.”
Nell shrugged.
“But once Bellarose decides you’re expendable, how long before every murder becomes DeLuca business?”
Marco stared.
She continued.
“You think you’re holding insurance.”
Nell pointed to the recorder.
“You’re holding evidence that proves Bellarose gave the order.”
Marco’s face changed.
“You give that to investigators, you become a cooperating witness.”
“And destroy my family.”
“Your family is already being destroyed.”
Silence.
Nell stepped closer.
“Carmine admitted his father’s guilt publicly.”
Marco looked toward the shadows.
“You think I should become him?”
“No.”
Nell shook her head.
“I think you should become smarter than Bellarose.”
Five minutes passed.
Then Marco picked up the recorder.
Nell thought he was leaving.
Instead he tossed it to her.
She caught it.
“The original is in a bank deposit box.”
Nell stared.
Marco handed her a key.
“Tell Orsini he owes me nothing.”
Carmine stepped from the shadows.
“I heard.”
Marco looked at him.
“Good.”
He walked away.
Carmine did not stop him.
Nell stared at the key.
Her hand shook.
“We have him.”
Carmine looked at her.
“Yes.”
“No.”
Tears filled her eyes.
“We have my mother.”
For twenty years, Lydia Brisco had been called a runaway wife, a disloyal woman, an employee killed in an unfortunate crash.
Now her voice, her evidence, and the order that ended her life could finally tell another story.
May you like
The truth.
And this time, there would be no one left powerful enough to bury it.
