The Photograph Dominic Never Meant Her to See
Chapter 14 - The Photograph Dominic Never Meant Her to See
Dominic asked to meet in Adelaide’s rehabilitation garden.
It was early spring by then.
Three months had passed since the night at the theater.
Adelaide walked with a cane now.
She hated it.
Marin had returned to full-time nursing and accepted the scholarship trusteeship only after rewriting the rules so no Ferrante could control the board.
She had visited Elias six times.
Not weekly.
Not according to any promise.
Six times because six times she wanted to.
Dominic sat beneath a bare maple tree with two coffees.
He looked thinner.
“You took the photograph.”
“Yes.”
“Start talking.”
He handed her one coffee.
She did not take it.
“Fair.”
He set it down.
“After the convoy attack, I kept track of survivors.”
“Why?”
“Guilt.”
“Try again.”
He looked at her.
“Fear.”
Better.
“I knew Vince had attacked the convoy because of me. I knew Jonah lived. I knew some medical staff survived. I wanted to know if any of you were being watched.”
“You watched me.”
“Yes.”
“For seven years?”
“Off and on.”
Marin felt anger rise slowly.
“That is not protection.”
“I know.”
“Did you send the photograph to the hitmen?”
“No.”
“Then how did they get it?”
“Vince stole a file from my office.”
She stared.
“He had access?”
“He helped manage my legal holdings.”
“You people really believed in keeping snakes indoors.”
Dominic almost smiled.
“Family tradition.”
She did not.
His expression sobered.
“I took that grocery-store picture three weeks before the attack because one of my investigators saw a Meridian symbol near your building.”
“What?”
“A van.”
Her skin chilled.
“Why didn’t you warn me?”
“Because I thought I could handle it.”
There it was.
The Ferrante disease.
He looked ashamed.
“I was wrong.”
Marin sat.
“Who was in the van?”
“We traced it after the attack.”
He slid a folder toward her.
The registration belonged to a medical supply company.
The owner was Dr. Celia Grant.
Adelaide’s physician.
Marin stared at the name.
“No.”
“She prescribed the medication that put two estate guards to sleep the first night.”
“How?”
“Supplement samples. Magnesium gummies. Except they weren’t.”
Marin felt sick.
Celia had been in Adelaide’s room twice a week.
She had praised Marin’s notes.
She had asked whether Marin ever slept on shift.
“Where is she?”
“Gone.”
“Since when?”
“The night Vince was arrested.”
“Why wasn’t I told?”
Dominic looked at her.
“You were told.”
“No, I wasn’t.”
“You were.”
He pulled out his phone.
A message sent to Marin’s number three months earlier.
DR. GRANT MAY BE INVOLVED. DO NOT CONTACT HER.
Marin had never received it.
She took out her phone.
Different number.
Old number.
The one she had changed after the attack.
Dominic closed his eyes.
“I sent it to the old line.”
“Brilliant.”
“I was concussed.”
“Not an excuse.”
“No.”
At least he had learned that language too.
They gave the information to federal investigators.
For two weeks, nothing happened.
Then Celia Grant appeared voluntarily with an attorney.
She wanted immunity.
Marin was asked to attend one interview because Celia would only speak if Marin was present.
The doctor looked smaller without her white coat.
“I never wanted Adelaide dead.”
Marin’s voice was flat.
“You drugged her guards.”
“I was told they were going to take documents.”
“Three armed men entered her room.”
“I didn’t know.”
“Everyone says that.”
Celia flinched.
Good.
“Why were they targeting me?”
“Vince believed you had something from Meridian.”
“What?”
“A digital backup.”
“I didn’t.”
“He thought you did.”
“Why?”
“Jonah told him.”
Marin froze.
Across the table, the federal attorney stopped writing.
“Explain.”
Celia rubbed her hands together.
“Jonah contacted Vince two months before the attack. He said Marin Hollis might have copied convoy manifests before Meridian shut down.”
Marin’s pulse became loud in her ears.
“That’s impossible.”
Celia looked at her.
“Is it?”
Memory returned.
A field clinic.
A failing laptop.
Marin copying patient files to an external drive before evacuation.
She had copied the entire shared folder because she did not know which directories belonged to medicine.
The drive.
Where was it?
Her mother’s sewing box?
No.
A plastic bin marked NURSING SCHOOL.
She had never opened it after moving.
Celia continued.
“Vince wanted the drive.”
“Then why attack Adelaide?”
“To get both of you in one place.”
Marin stared.
The first night.
Adelaide and Marin.
Two targets.
One operation.
The photograph suddenly made sense.
Not a second assassination target.
A second retrieval target.
“What’s on the drive?” the attorney asked.
Marin shook her head.
“I don’t know.”
But Jonah did.
And he had never once asked whether she still had it.
Which meant he either knew she did—
or knew exactly where it was.
Marin stood.
“Call the storage facility.”
Dominic was already reaching for his phone.
No answer.
He tried again.
Then the facility manager picked up.
Marin gave her unit number.
There was a pause.
“Ma’am,” he said, “your unit was accessed this morning.”
Her blood turned cold.
“By whom?”
The manager sounded confused.
“By you.”
Marin gripped the table.
“I’m in Boston.”
Another pause.
“Well, somebody had your key.”
The red ledger was with federal authorities.
The letters were safe.
But in the back of that unit, beneath textbooks and old uniforms, sat a black external hard drive Marin had not touched in seven years.
A drive Jonah Vale had once watched her fill.
She looked at Dominic.
“Jonah never disappeared.”
She understood it now.
“He waited until everyone else was arrested.”
Then Marin’s phone buzzed.
A photograph.
Jonah standing inside her storage unit.
In one hand, he held the black drive.
May you like
His message contained six words.
NOW WE FINISH WHAT WE STARTED.
