Chapter 6
Police arrived in twelve minutes.
Dominic spent all twelve trying to rewrite what everyone had seen.
He told members Rocco was confused.
He told staff I had manipulated an old man.
He told security they would lose their jobs if they gave statements.
Nobody spoke at first.
Then the dishwasher, Luis, stepped forward.
“I saw Mr. Dominic shove the chair.”
The bartender added, “I saw him knock the coins.”
Then the hostess whispered, “He told us never to let poor-looking people near the main floor.”
More voices followed.
Small truths.
Years of them.
A detective named Hall entered the office with two officers.
Rocco gave him the ledger.
The deed.
The recording.
The photograph.
Detective Hall listened without expression until Rocco said his wife’s name.
“Alina Vale.”
The detective looked up.
“What did you say?”
Rocco repeated it.
“Alina Vale. My wife.”
Hall closed the ledger slowly.
“I know that name.”
Rocco’s breath caught.
“From where?”
Hall looked at Dominic.
Dominic’s face had turned white again.
“An unidentified woman used that name at a shelter twelve years ago,” Hall said. “She had a little girl with her.”
Rocco grabbed the desk.
“A girl?”
Hall nodded.
“She disappeared before officers could follow up.”
Dominic stepped back.
Rocco noticed.
So did I.
“Where is she?” Rocco asked.
Dominic shook his head.
“I don’t know.”
Detective Hall said, “Then why do you look like you do?”
Dominic’s mouth opened.
Nothing came out.
Rocco turned to me.
“Maeve.”
“Yes?”
“The coins.”
I opened my palm again.
He picked up one coin and looked at it.
“My wife said the proof would be found by kindness.”
He turned the coin over.
There was a tiny mark scratched into it.
May you like
A letter.
A.
