Chapter 7
The coins were not ordinary.
Not all of them.
One had a scratched A.
Another had a line so thin I almost missed it.
Rocco asked for a magnifier.
Detective Hall found one in the desk.
Together we checked every coin.
A.
L.
I.
N.
A.
Two coins remained blank.
My skin prickled.
“Alina,” I whispered.
Rocco stared at them.
“She left these?”
Detective Hall placed the coins into evidence bags.
“Where did you get them, Maeve?”
“My apron pocket. Tips.”
“From who?”
I thought back.
The night had been busy.
A drunk man.
A couple at table seven.
A woman in a red scarf who ordered tea and did not drink it.
My heart jumped.
“The woman.”
Everyone looked at me.
“She sat alone near the back. Older. Dark hair with gray. Red scarf. She gave me the coins and said, ‘Use them well.’”
Rocco’s face changed.
“When?”
“An hour before you came in.”
Dominic whispered, “No.”
Detective Hall turned.
“You know her.”
Dominic backed into the wall.
“No.”
Rocco moved toward him.
“Was Alina here tonight?”
Dominic shook his head too fast.
“She’s dead.”
“You said she was insane.”
“She is both.”
That sentence made no sense.
Until it did.
Rocco grabbed Dominic by the collar.
“What did your father do?”
Dominic’s voice cracked.
“He kept her hidden after she ran. I didn’t know at first.”
“Where?”
Dominic swallowed.
“The old hotel.”
Rocco released him so suddenly he stumbled.
“What old hotel?”
Dominic shut his mouth.
Detective Hall stepped in.
“You can tell us now, or we tear your life apart slower.”
Dominic looked at me.
May you like
Hatred burned in his eyes.
Then he said, “The hotel under the club.”
