The Man Who Owned the Restaurant
Chapter 05 - The Man Who Owned the Restaurant
Adrian moved Lydia behind Marcus and guided Sophie toward the car. The man in the sedan did not step out. He did not need to. The threat was in the way he waited, certain that everyone on the sidewalk would make the safest choice for themselves.
“Drive,” Adrian said.
Marcus opened the rear door. Sophie hesitated, looking at Marlene, who stood frozen beneath the awning.
“She’s the one who reported Lydia,” Sophie said.
“And she can answer for it later. Right now, she’s a witness who may be in danger.”
Adrian turned to Marlene. “Get in the other car. You’ll speak to an attorney before you speak to anyone else.”
The sedan’s window rose. A moment later, it pulled away from the curb and disappeared into traffic.
Marlene climbed into the second vehicle, shaking so badly she had trouble fastening her seat belt. Sophie sat beside Lydia in Adrian’s car. The old woman had gone silent, staring at the locket in her hands.
“Does Victor know you’re alive?” Sophie asked.
“He knows someone is trying to find the ledger,” Lydia replied. “He may not know who I am yet. If he did, he would not have sent a man to frighten Marlene. He would have come himself.”
Adrian looked at his mother in the rearview mirror. “You still speak as if you know him.”
“I knew him before he learned to smile while he lied.”
“Why didn’t you tell me about him when I was older? Why not send a letter when I was twenty, or thirty?”
Lydia looked down. “I tried. Every letter came back, or someone wrote to say you refused to see me. I believed it because I was afraid to believe anything else. I thought if I kept quiet, you would live long enough to grow beyond him.”
“I grew into him,” Adrian said.
“No. You grew around him. There’s a difference, though you may not feel it yet.”
He said nothing. Sophie watched the city lights pass over his face. The man in the restaurant had looked powerful enough to command the room with a sentence. The man in the car looked like someone who had just learned his childhood was built on a lie.
They drove to a townhouse in Lincoln Park owned by one of Adrian’s legitimate businesses. It had been empty for months, furnished but unused. Marcus checked the rooms before letting anyone inside. There were fresh flowers on a console table and a bowl of oranges in the kitchen, small domestic details that made the house feel almost ordinary.
Sophie helped Lydia settle on the sofa. Adrian called an attorney named Miriam Cole, a woman who had handled his family’s legal affairs before deciding she would no longer protect secrets for them. He gave her the facts, but not the emotional details. When he hung up, he found Sophie standing near the kitchen window, looking at the street.
“You can go home if you want,” he said.
“Not while someone is threatening me for helping her.”
“I can make sure you’re safe.”
“I know. But safety isn’t the same as having someone else decide everything for you.”
He studied her for a moment. “You’ve had to say that to people before.”
“Mostly to men who think paying a bill means they get to choose the rest of your evening.”
A reluctant smile crossed his face. “I’ll try not to become one of them.”
“Trying is good. Listening is better.”
Before he could answer, Lydia called them into the sitting room. She had opened the cloth bundle that held the old rabbit. A narrow piece of paper was tucked inside the seam, hidden beneath the blue ribbon.
“I put this here before I left the house,” she said. “I thought I might never see you again.”
Adrian took the paper. It contained a series of numbers, a warehouse address, and a name: Thomas Rusk, Chicago Police Department.
Miriam arrived twenty minutes later. She read the paper and went very still.
“Rusk retired six years ago,” she said. “He was the detective assigned to your father’s death. The investigation was closed after he signed a report saying the fire was accidental.”
“He was paid by Victor,” Lydia said.
Miriam looked at Adrian. “If that’s true, this is bigger than a family dispute. We need independent investigators and federal counsel. No one connected to your current security team should touch the evidence.”
Adrian nodded. “Agreed.”
Miriam placed the paper inside a clear evidence sleeve. “We also need to establish Lydia’s identity. A DNA test will help, but the records and photographs matter. We need a chain of custody.”
Lydia gave a tired smile. “I have waited thirty years. I can wait a few days for a laboratory.”
A phone vibrated on the table. It belonged to Marlene, who had been brought to the townhouse under guard. She looked at the screen and went white.
“What is it?” Sophie asked.
Marlene turned the phone around.
A photograph showed her brother sitting alone in a prison visiting room. Under it was a message from Victor:
YOU HAVE UNTIL MIDNIGHT TO BRING ME THE WOMAN. AFTER THAT, YOUR BROTHER PAYS FOR YOUR MISTAKE.
Marlene covered her mouth. “He’ll hurt him. He’ll make sure he never gets out.”
Adrian reached for the phone, but Marlene pulled it back against her chest.
“You don’t understand,” she said. “Victor doesn’t threaten people unless he’s already decided what he’s going to do.”
Sophie knelt in front of her. “Then tell us everything. Not what you think will save your brother. Everything.”
Marlene looked at Lydia, then Adrian, then the attorney. At last, she began to speak.
“The warehouse isn’t where he hid the ledger,” she said. “It’s where he hid the person who knows where the ledger really is.”
Lydia’s face changed.
“Who?” Adrian asked.
May you like
Marlene whispered a name.
“Your father’s driver. The one everyone believes died in the fire.”
