The Father of Wyatt Hartley
Chapter 13 - The Father of Wyatt Hartley
Gideon had driven Vittorio that night.
He had lied about it for eleven years.
Raphael did not throw him out.
That frightened Josephine more than anger would have.
They sat in the study where she had knocked at 12:43 a.m., except now sunlight lay across the carpet and nothing in the room felt private anymore.
“Tell it once,” Raphael said. “Tell all of it.”
Gideon stood by the desk.
“Vittorio learned Dileia planned to leave.”
“How?”
“Conrad told him.”
Josephine looked up.
Gideon continued.
“Conrad said Dileia was unstable. He claimed Samuel was manipulating her into stealing family money.”
Raphael’s mouth tightened.
“The accounts in her name.”
“Yes. Vittorio believed she had opened them.”
“But Conrad opened them.”
“That is what the ledger suggests.”
Raphael looked away.
“My father followed her because he thought she was running with stolen money.”
“Yes.”
“Why use Conrad’s car?”
“To avoid being recognized.”
Josephine said, “So you followed Dileia and my father.”
“Yes.”
“Did you hit their car?”
Gideon closed his eyes.
“No.”
“Then how was your rear panel damaged?”
“A third vehicle struck us.”
Raphael looked sharply at him.
“There were three cars.”
“Yes.”
Everything changed again.
Gideon spoke slowly.
“Dileia and Samuel were ahead. We were behind them. Then another vehicle came up fast from the rear.”
“Whose?”
“I never saw the driver.”
“Conrad?”
“I don’t know.”
The third car struck Gideon’s rear quarter, then moved around them.
“Samuel slowed. Dileia’s car pulled toward the shoulder. The third vehicle boxed them in.”
Josephine’s hands went cold.
“Then?”
“Vittorio told me to stop.”
Gideon’s voice roughened.
“He got out. Samuel got out. Someone in the third car raised a gun.”
Raphael leaned forward.
“My father’s gun?”
“No.”
Silence.
Gideon looked at him.
“That is what I have been trying to tell you without saying the thing that destroys every story we built afterward.”
“Say it.”
“There were two guns.”
Raphael went still.
“Vittorio had his.”
“Yes.”
“Samuel’s print was on it.”
“Because Samuel took it from Vittorio.”
“Why?”
“Your father was furious. He believed Samuel had stolen Dileia and the money. He drew his weapon.”
Josephine’s face tightened.
Gideon continued quickly.
“Samuel grabbed his wrist. The gun fired into the trees. That is the bullet police recovered.”
Raphael closed his eyes.
His father had brought the first gun into the confrontation.
But not the second.
“Who fired the other one?”
“No one.”
“Then what happened?”
“The third driver saw Vittorio’s gun and accelerated. Dileia and Samuel got back in their car. They tried to leave.”
Gideon’s breath shook.
“The third car followed them. We followed the third car.”
“And the crash?”
“They were forced off the road.”
Josephine whispered, “You saw it.”
“Yes.”
“You knew my father didn’t cause it.”
“Yes.”
“And you let me believe he died in a construction accident.”
Gideon’s voice broke.
“Yes.”
Josephine stood and walked out.
Raphael found her near the greenhouse.
She was crying hard enough that she could not hide it.
He stopped a few feet away.
She looked at him.
“Everybody knew pieces.”
“Yes.”
“Nobody knew enough to fix it, but everybody knew enough to lie.”
“Yes.”
She wiped her face.
“Your father pulled a gun on mine.”
“Yes.”
“You’re not going to defend him?”
“No.”
“That should make me feel better.”
“It doesn’t.”
“No.”
Raphael stepped closer.
Josephine let him hold her.
It was the first time she had cried against him rather than beside him.
That afternoon, Detective Alvarez brought another result.
Conrad had agreed to provide a DNA sample.
He said he wanted to end speculation.
The result did the opposite.
Josephine, Raphael, Eleanor, and Wyatt sat together when Alvarez read it.
“Conrad Vale is Wyatt’s biological father.”
Wyatt stared.
Josephine felt the room contract.
Raphael’s eyes turned cold.
Conrad had lied.
Not once.
Repeatedly.
He had said Dileia told him the baby was not his.
He had made them suspect Samuel.
He had watched Josephine believe, for nearly a day, that her father betrayed her mother.
Wyatt asked the question no one else wanted to.
“Does he know?”
Alvarez nodded.
“He received the result this morning.”
Wyatt looked down at his hands.
“Does he want me?”
Josephine moved instantly.
“Sweetheart—”
“No.” Wyatt looked at the detective. “I want to know.”
Alvarez’s face softened.
“He has not asked for contact.”
That answer hurt more than Josephine expected.
Raphael sat beside Wyatt.
“For what it’s worth, I do.”
Wyatt looked at him.
Raphael’s voice stayed steady.
“I missed eleven years because I didn’t know you existed. I would like not to miss the next eleven.”
Wyatt’s eyes filled.
“Okay.”
He leaned against Raphael awkwardly, careful of his healing chest.
Raphael froze for half a second.
Then put one arm around him.
Josephine looked away to give them privacy.
Her phone buzzed.
Unknown number.
A photograph arrived.
It showed Josephine and Raphael kissing in the study the day before.
Taken through the window.
Beneath it was a message.
YOU SHOULD ASK YOUR NEW BOYFRIEND WHAT HIS FATHER DID WITH THE SECOND GUN.
Josephine’s blood went cold.
She handed Raphael the phone.
He read the message.
Then Detective Alvarez’s phone rang.
She answered.
Listened.
Her face sharpened.
“What?”
Everyone looked at her.
She ended the call.
“The second gun has been found.”
Raphael stood.
“Where?”
Alvarez looked at Wyatt.
Then back at Raphael.
May you like
“In Conrad Vale’s hospital room.”
**And this time, Conrad had a story prepared that would put Raphael himself at the center of the crime.**
