Chapter 8 - The Dead Man in the Photograph

Damian could not speak.

Seventeen years.

His father had been dead seventeen years.

Buried.

Funeral.

Headstone.

Everything.

He held the photograph closer.

Same eyes.

Same scar.

Older.

But alive.

Veronica whispered:

“The date is eleven months ago.”

Elena sat down.

“That’s impossible.”

Walter looked at the image.

“No.”

He spoke carefully.

“It means the body after the crash may not have been Antonio.”

Damian stared at him.

“I identified him.”

Walter looked at Damian.

“You were sixteen.”

“The body was burned.”

Damian remembered.

Closed coffin afterward.

One brief identification.

A ring.

A watch.

A damaged face.

He felt sick.

Elena whispered:

“Marco.”

Damian turned.

“He faked Antonio’s death.”

Walter nodded.

“Possibly.”

Veronica searched the bag.

Another note.

An address.

Arizona.

Saint Marlow Recovery Center.

Elena stood immediately.

“That is where I saw Rebecca.”

Walter checked the date.

“The photograph was taken there.”

Damian pulled out his phone.

Before he could call anyone, it rang.

Marco.

Damian stared at the screen.

Answered.

“Damian.”

His uncle’s voice was calm.

“You’ve had a very busy night.”

Damian looked around the station.

“You’re watching us.”

Marco laughed softly.

“I’m always watching.”

“Is my father alive?”

Silence.

Then:

“That depends on what you mean by father.”

Damian’s face hardened.

“Antonio.”

Marco sighed.

“He was alive.”

“Was?”

“Come to the old Russo warehouse.”

Elena grabbed Damian’s arm.

“No.”

Marco continued.

“Bring the locker bag.”

Damian asked:

“And if I don’t?”

“You’ll spend the rest of your life wondering whether Antonio died yesterday or seventeen years ago.”

The line went dead.

Elena shook her head.

“You cannot go.”

Damian looked at her.

“I already lost both of you once.”

“You were a child.”

“I’m not now.”

Veronica stepped forward.

“I’m coming.”

“No.”

She stared.

“My mother is tied to this too.”

Damian said nothing.

Walter interrupted.

“You both go.”

Elena looked at him.

Walter continued.

“And I call federal investigators.”

Damian frowned.

“Marco will see them.”

Walter nodded.

“Then we don’t send them to the warehouse.”

“Where?”

“To Saint Marlow.”

Veronica understood.

“If Rebecca is alive…”

Walter nodded.

“She can testify.”

Elena looked at Damian.

“And Antonio?”

Walter’s expression darkened.

“If Marco truly kept him alive, there is a reason.”

Damian looked at the photograph.

“What reason?”

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Walter answered:

“Control.”