The Man With the Scar Had a Name
Chapter 03 - The Man With the Scar Had a Name
The stranger called at 11:13.
Not Vincent.
Mave.
Unknown number.
She stared at it until the last ring.
Then answered.
“If you know my name, I assume you know I dislike games.”
A soft laugh.
“Elaine said the same thing.”
Mave stood.
“Who are you?”
“Nolan Rourke.”
The name meant nothing.
“Should it?”
“To Vincent.”
Mave looked through the glass wall of the conference room.
Vincent stood fifty feet away arguing with Dominic.
Her uncle-by-employment.
His actual uncle.
Dominic was sixty-two and silver-haired, the kind of charming older man who remembered birthdays and made everyone believe he had never raised his voice in his life.
Now Vincent’s jaw was hard.
Dominic looked offended.
Nolan said, “Do not tell him I called.”
“Why?”
“Because if he knows where I am, Dominic will know.”
Mave looked toward the two men.
“You think Vincent tells Dominic everything?”
“I think families create habits.”
“Where are you?”
“Across the river.”
“New Jersey?”
“Yes.”
“What did you want at the gala?”
“To see whether Vincent knew who you were.”
“He did.”
“I know.”
“You already knew he knew.”
“I suspected.”
Mave closed her eyes.
“Everyone in this story has a terrible habit of testing people with my life.”
Nolan was silent.
Good.
“Why did you know my mother?”
“I worked security for Costa Freight.”
“For Vincent?”
“For his father.”
“Were you one of the people she ran from?”
“No.”
“Were you helping her?”
“Eventually.”
There was that word.
Mave had started to hate it.
“What happened?”
“Not on the phone.”
“Then we’re done.”
“Mave.”
“No.”
She moved to hang up.
Nolan said:
“Thirty thousand dollars.”
She stopped.
“What?”
“The transfer you found.”
“How do you know?”
“Because I receive it.”
Mave’s stomach tightened.
“Consulting services.”
“That’s me.”
“You own the New Jersey trucking company.”
“I own the shell above it.”
“What are you being paid for?”
“Watching you.”
Silence.
Every hair on Mave’s arms lifted.
“Who pays you?”
“Costa.”
“Vincent?”
Nolan paused.
“Yes.”
The answer cut deeper than it should have.
Mave looked toward Vincent through the glass.
He was still arguing with Dominic.
“Since when?”
“Eighteen months.”
“Why?”
“Threat.”
“What threat?”
“Somebody mailed Vincent photographs of you leaving your apartment.”
Mave closed her eyes.
He had known.
He had watched.
He had never said a word.
Nolan continued.
“They included your mother’s old employee number.”
“Why didn’t you contact me?”
“Vincent said not to.”
Of course.
Mave laughed without humor.
“Thank you for confirming my morning.”
“I disagreed with him.”
“But took the money.”
“Yes.”
“Honest.”
“I try.”
“Late.”
“Also true.”
Mave lowered her voice.
“Why did you come to the gala?”
“Because the payments stopped.”
“When?”
“Two weeks ago.”
“Who stopped them?”
“I thought Vincent.”
“You don’t now.”
“No.”
Mave remembered the spreadsheet.
Thirty thousand missing.
One payment had been flagged because the offshore source account suddenly lacked matching authorization.
“The transfer didn’t stop,” she said.
“What?”
“It moved.”
“Where?”
“New Jersey trucking subsidiary.”
“That isn’t mine.”
Her pulse quickened.
“Then somebody rerouted the surveillance budget.”
“To who?”
Mave looked toward Dominic.
“I’m going to find out.”
Nolan said, “Do not do this in the office.”
“Why?”
“Because Dominic has access to internal cameras.”
“How do you know?”
“I installed half of them.”
That was useful.
Disturbing.
“Why are you alive if you worked for Vincent’s father?”
Nolan was quiet.
“Because everyone thinks I died.”
Mave remembered Leo’s words.
Lot of ghosts in the room tonight.
“How?”
“Warehouse fire.”
“Costa property?”
“Yes.”
“When?”
“Seventeen years ago.”
One year after Elaine disappeared.
“What happened?”
“Your mother found the second ledger.”
Mave’s hand tightened on the phone.
“What second ledger?”
“The one that showed Dominic, not Vincent’s father, was using the protected-payment route.”
Mave stared at Dominic through the glass.
Vincent turned away from him.
For one moment, Dominic’s face changed.
No charm.
No warmth.
Cold.
Calculating.
Then he noticed Mave looking and smiled.
Nolan whispered:
“That smile is why your mother ran.”
The line went dead.
Mave remained still.
Dominic walked toward the conference room.
He opened the door without knocking.
“Mave.”
“Dominic.”
He smiled.
“I heard last night was exciting.”
“So I’m told.”
“Vincent upset you?”
Interesting question.
Not Are you all right?
Not Who was the stranger?
Vincent.
Mave put her phone face down.
“Why was my employment application marked priority three years ago?”
Dominic’s smile did not move.
“Was it?”
“You approved it.”
He leaned against the table.
“I approve hundreds of things.”
“You remember my coffee order.”
“Black. No sugar.”
“And birthdays.”
“September fourteenth.”
“Then you remember my application.”
The smile faded slightly.
“Mave.”
“Why?”
He looked through the glass toward Vincent.
“Because your mother once saved my life.”
Mave stopped.
That was not the answer she expected.
“How?”
“An accounting error.”
She almost laughed.
“That sounds small.”
“It wasn’t.”
Dominic looked at her.
“She found a payment that would have made my brother believe I was stealing from him.”
“Were you?”
“No.”
“So she saved you.”
“Yes.”
“Then why did she run from you?”
Dominic’s face went completely still.
Mave had not said she knew that.
Good.
He straightened.
“Who told you that?”
“Nolan Rourke.”
The color left Dominic’s face.
Not much.
Enough.
“He is dead.”
“No.”
Vincent entered the room behind him.
Dominic turned.
For one terrible second, the two Costa men looked less like family than rivals who had been waiting twenty years to stop pretending.
Vincent spoke first.
“Get away from her.”
Dominic laughed softly.
“Now we’re doing this?”
“Yes.”
“In front of the secretary?”
Mave closed her laptop.
“The secretary has a name.”
Dominic looked at her.
Then smiled again.
But she saw the calculation now.
“Of course.”
He moved toward the door.
At Vincent’s shoulder, he stopped.
“You always did have bad taste in women who ask questions.”
Vincent’s face hardened.
Dominic left.
Mave turned toward Vincent.
“Eighteen months.”
He knew exactly what she meant.
“Yes.”
“You paid Nolan to watch me.”
“Yes.”
“You lied this morning.”
“I withheld it.”
She stared.
“Try that sentence again.”
Vincent closed his eyes.
“I lied.”
“Better.”
“I received photographs of you.”
“You could have told me.”
“Yes.”
“You decided I would be safer ignorant.”
“Yes.”
“That is not safety.”
“I know.”
“Stop saying that like knowing after the fact is a virtue.”
He looked at her.
“It isn’t.”
Mave gathered her portfolio.
“Where are you going?”
“Home.”
“You cannot.”
She stopped.
Vincent caught himself.
His voice changed.
“I think it may be unsafe.”
“Better.”
“Mave.”
“I am still leaving.”
“Then take Leo.”
“No.”
“Please.”
The word surprised both of them.
Mave looked at him.
Not the boss.
Not the mafia figure.
A frightened man who had learned the correct word five seconds too late.
“Leo drives me to my building.”
Vincent nodded.
“And that is all.”
“Yes.”
She reached the door.
“Mave.”
“What?”
“There is something Nolan doesn’t know.”
She turned.
Vincent’s face was grim.
“The threat photographs didn’t begin eighteen months ago.”
Her chest tightened.
“How long?”
“My father had photographs of you as a child.”
Mave stared.
May you like
Vincent’s voice dropped.
“Someone in this family has been watching you since you were eight years old.”
