Chapter 7 - THE MAN WHO SIGNED DEATH
David had signed the death certificate.
I knew because he had told me himself.
He said he did it to spare me the pain of paperwork. He said the coroner had approved it. He said my father’s death was so obvious that nobody needed to ask questions.
But David was not a doctor. He was not a coroner. He had no authority to certify a death.
Unless someone had given him that authority.
Elena found the record in twenty minutes.
“The certificate was filed under the name of Dr. Lewis Grant,” she said. “He was the county medical examiner.”
“Where is he now?” Dominic asked.
“Retired. Lives in a gated community in Naperville.”
“And David?”
“David’s attorney filed an emergency petition for release two hours ago.”
My head snapped up.
“He’s in jail.”
“He has powerful friends,” Elena said. “And a judge who owes Councilman Bell a favor.”
Dominic’s phone rang. He answered, listened, and held it out to me.
David’s voice came through.
“Claire.”
The sound of him made my skin crawl.
“How did you get a phone?”
“I have friends.”
“You have accomplices.”
He laughed softly.
“You’ve been spending time with Rossi.”
“You don’t get to say his name.”
“Does he touch you gently when he lies?”
Dominic reached for the phone, but I held up a hand.
“What do you want?”
“You have something my father-in-law left behind.”
“You mean evidence.”
“I mean insurance.”
“You killed my father.”
There was a pause.
For the first time, I heard fear in David’s breathing.
“Your father died because he refused to understand how the world works.”
“He understood you.”
“He understood nothing. He thought a courtroom could protect him. He thought the law was stronger than money.”
“And now you’re hiding behind the same money.”
His voice sharpened.
“You will bring me the drive.”
“No.”
“Then your mother dies.”
The call ended.
I stood in the library with the phone still pressed against my ear.
Dominic took it from me.
“He doesn’t have your mother.”
“Marco said he knows who has been hiding her.”
“Marco lies for sport.”
“David knew she was alive.”
“He may have guessed.”
“He said her name.”
Dominic’s expression tightened.
I walked to the wall of evidence and stared at the photograph of my father’s car. The crash had occurred on a road outside Chicago. The mechanic who examined the brakes had been paid by David. The medical examiner had signed the certificate. My mother had vanished before the investigation began.
Every road led back to the same people.
David.
The Bells.
And someone inside the Rossi family.
“We go to Dr. Grant,” I said.
Dominic shook his head. “Not without a team.”
“Then take a team.”
“You stay here.”
I laughed once, without humor.
“That’s what everyone has said for twelve years.”
He studied me.
“This isn’t about proving you’re brave.”
“I know.”
“It’s about staying alive.”
“Then stop treating me like luggage.”
The words hung between us.
Dominic looked down at his hands. When he spoke again, the anger was gone.
“You’re right.”
It was the first apology I had received from a powerful man that did not come with an explanation for why I was wrong.
“You come with us,” he continued. “You stay beside me. If I tell you to move, you move. If I tell you to get down, you get down.”
“And if I tell you you’re bleeding?”
“I listen.”
We reached Dr. Grant’s house after sunset. The gate stood open. The front door was unlocked.
Dominic raised his weapon.
Inside, the house smelled of coffee and gunpowder. Dr. Grant was sitting at his kitchen table, an old man with trembling hands and a white bandage around his throat.
He looked at me.
“Arthur’s daughter.”
“You signed my father’s death certificate.”
“I did.”
“Why?”
His eyes filled with shame.
“Because your husband held a gun to my granddaughter’s head.”
Dominic moved closer.
“Where is the girl now?”
“Safe. I sent her away before I called you.”
Dr. Grant reached beneath the table and pulled out a small recorder.
“Your father came to me two days before the crash. He said he believed someone was going to kill him. He asked me to keep a copy of his final statement.”
He pressed play.
My father’s voice filled the kitchen.
“If you’re hearing this, I failed to protect my family. The man responsible is not acting alone. Look for the woman who survived the lake.”
My mother.
The recording continued.
“And trust Dominic Rossi. He is not the danger. The danger is the man who taught him to obey.”
Dominic went very still.
His uncle.
Before the recording could finish, the windows shattered.
Dr. Grant fell from his chair.
Dominic pulled me behind the kitchen island as bullets struck the cabinets.
May you like
Then another voice called from outside.
“Dominic! Your uncle sends his love.”
