The Detective Her Mother Buried Twice
Chapter 03 - The Detective Her Mother Buried Twice
Liz did not cry in Silas’s office.
She waited until she reached the women’s restroom on the first floor.
Then she locked herself in the last stall and pressed both hands over her mouth.
Thomas Thorne.
Police detective.
Killed behind the Gilded Cage.
Her father had not died on a roof.
Her mother had not simply worked here.
Every story Liz had been given about the first eight years of her life had been arranged.
Not false in every detail.
Worse.
Curated.
When she came out, Leon was waiting near the employee lockers.
He held two coffees.
Liz took neither.
“You knew my father too.”
“Yes.”
“How?”
“He investigated Elias.”
“Silas’s father.”
“Yes.”
“Did Silas know?”
“Some.”
Silas appeared at the end of the hallway.
Liz looked at Leon.
“Can we do this without him?”
Leon glanced toward Silas.
“Yes.”
Silas stopped.
There was a flash of something in his face.
He hated being excluded.
Good.
Liz and Leon sat in the closed pastry room.
Leon left the door open.
Another good choice.
“Start with my parents.”
Leon folded his hands.
“Thomas Thorne was vice detective.”
“My mother said he installed roofs.”
“I know.”
“That is a ridiculous lie.”
“It was safer than the truth.”
“No.”
Liz’s voice stayed calm.
“It felt safer to her.”
Leon nodded slowly.
“Fair.”
He continued.
“Thomas began investigating Elias Vance for illegal gambling, extortion, bribery.”
“And my mother?”
“She was already here.”
“As a waitress.”
“Yes.”
“Did she know who Elias was?”
“Not at first.”
“Then?”
“She became close to Adrian.”
“Married him.”
“For eleven months.”
Liz rubbed her forehead.
This family tree had knives in it.
“Was she cheating on my father?”
“No.”
“Timeline.”
“Nora married Adrian first.”
Liz looked up.
“She knew Adrian before my father.”
“Yes.”
“What happened?”
“Adrian hit her.”
The room seemed to narrow.
Leon’s voice remained careful.
“Not often, according to her. Once badly.”
Liz looked down.
Her mother had never tolerated men raising their voices around Liz.
Now she understood one reason.
“Nora left him.”
“Yes.”
“Elias allowed that?”
“No.”
The answer came flat.
“She disappeared for six months. Met Thomas while he was investigating Vance bookmakers. He helped her stay hidden.”
“And then they fell in love.”
“I believe so.”
“Did Elias find her?”
“Eventually.”
“So she came back to the Gilded Cage.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“To help Thomas.”
Liz stared.
“Informant.”
“Yes.”
Her mother had been brave.
Or reckless.
Usually both lived closer together than stories admitted.
“Where was I?”
“With your grandmother in Indiana.”
Liz remembered a year in Indiana.
She remembered Nora saying it was because Chicago rent had become impossible.
Another arranged truth.
“What did Nora find?”
Leon looked toward the open door.
“The ledger.”
“What did it contain?”
“Payments.”
“To police?”
“Yes.”
“Judges?”
“Yes.”
“Politicians?”
“Yes.”
“And the night my father died?”
Leon’s face changed.
“I was here.”
Liz leaned forward.
“Tell me.”
“Nora planned to give Thomas the ledger in the alley.”
“Did she?”
“No.”
“Why?”
“Because Adrian found out.”
Liz’s chest tightened.
“Her ex-husband.”
“Yes.”
“What happened?”
“Thomas arrived first.”
Leon looked at his hands.
“Then Adrian.”
“Then Silas?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Silas had overheard his father discussing the ledger.”
Liz closed her eyes.
A young Silas.
How old?
“Twenty?”
“Twenty-one.”
That surprised her.
She had imagined him older even in the past.
“He came to warn Nora?”
“Yes.”
“And the shooting?”
Leon swallowed.
“Thomas drew his weapon when Adrian arrived.”
“Adrian shot him.”
“No.”
Liz opened her eyes.
Leon looked genuinely pained.
“Silas did.”
The sentence went through her slowly.
Liz stood.
The chair scraped.
“No.”
“Liz.”
“You just told me Silas was helping them.”
“He was.”
“He shot my father.”
“It was an accident.”
She laughed once.
The ugliest phrase in the English language.
“How?”
“Adrian had a gun on Nora.”
“Thomas drew.”
“Yes.”
“Silas tried to stop Adrian.”
“Yes.”
“Then?”
“Adrian turned toward Silas. Thomas fired. Silas fired. Thomas was hit.”
Liz stared.
“By Silas.”
“Yes.”
The restroom tears had been easier.
This felt too clean for tears.
“Did my father die there?”
“Yes.”
“Did Silas know who he was?”
“No.”
“That makes it better?”
“No.”
Good answer.
“Who gave Silas the scar?”
“Adrian.”
Liz stopped.
“After Silas shot Thomas?”
“Adrian fired at Silas. Bullet grazed his temple. Silas went down.”
“And Nora?”
“Ran.”
“With the ledger?”
Leon nodded.
“And Adrian?”
“Left.”
“Why didn’t he finish Silas?”
“Police sirens.”
“Who called?”
“Nora.”
Liz paced once across the tiny room.
“My mother watched my father die.”
“Yes.”
“And then she lied to me.”
“Yes.”
“Silas lived.”
“Yes.”
“And Adrian lived another two years.”
“Yes.”
“How did Adrian die?”
Leon said nothing.
Liz looked at him.
“How?”
“Car bomb.”
“Who?”
“No one was charged.”
“Who?”
Leon’s eyes hardened.
“I don’t know.”
She believed him.
That frightened her more.
Liz opened the pastry-room door.
Silas stood across the service hall.
He had waited.
Of course.
His eyes found hers.
He knew Leon had told her.
Liz walked toward him.
“Did you shoot Thomas Thorne?”
No soft language.
No office.
No privacy.
Two dishwashers nearby stopped moving.
Silas answered.
“Yes.”
“Did you know he was my father?”
“No.”
“Did you know later?”
“Yes.”
“When?”
“The next day.”
Her chest tightened.
“And you never found me.”
“I tried.”
“Not very hard.”
“I found Nora.”
Liz froze.
“What?”
“Three months later.”
“Where?”
“Milwaukee.”
“She told you about me?”
“Yes.”
“And?”
Silas looked broken in a way she had not imagined he could.
“She made me promise never to come near you.”
Liz stared.
“You obeyed my mother for eighteen years.”
“Yes.”
“Until I walked into your restaurant.”
“I did not know who you were.”
“Then you found the badge.”
“Yes.”
“Why didn’t you tell me immediately?”
Silas’s answer came quietly.
“Because I wanted one more day before you looked at me like this.”
There it was.
Not protection.
Cowardice.
Human.
Infuriating.
Liz’s eyes filled.
“You do not get to use honesty at the end to make the delay noble.”
“I know.”
She turned.
Silas did not stop her.
At the employee entrance, her phone buzzed.
Unknown number.
A photograph appeared.
Nora Thorne, older.
Taken only six months before her death.
She was standing beside Leon.
Liz looked back down the hallway.
Leon had stepped out of the pastry room.
She held up the phone.
“You saw my mother last year.”
His face went pale.
May you like
Then a message arrived beneath the photograph.
ASK LEON WHAT NORA GAVE HIM BEFORE SHE DIED.
