Chapter 5 - Sera Had Met Elena Before Marco Ever Did

The memory arrived in pieces.

A motel room outside Gary.

Rain against glass.

Her foster brother asleep in a chair.

A woman with dark hair putting gauze against Sera's split lip.

Not a social worker.

Not police.

Someone who had arrived after the man in the kitchen stopped moving.

Elena.

Sera stared at the photograph.

"I knew her as Lena."

Nico nodded.

"She used that name."

Marco looked at Sera.

"When?"

"I was sixteen."

"What happened?"

She looked at him.

"Not your business."

His jaw tightened.

Then he surprised her.

"Okay."

No push.

No demand.

That made it worse somehow.

Nico sat.

"Elena ran a quiet program for girls in dangerous homes."

Sera looked at him.

"No."

"Yes."

"She wasn't charity."

"Not officially."

"What was she?"

Nico said, "Cleaning up after men like our fathers."

Silence.

Marco's face changed.

"What does that mean?"

Nico looked at him.

"Your father financed people who collected debts. Some of them collected in houses where children lived."

Marco went still.

Nico continued.

"Elena hated it."

Rafe looked toward Marco.

Marco said nothing.

Sera remembered.

A man named Dennis.

Foster father number six.

Heavy hands.

Cheap beer.

A locked pantry.

One night he grabbed her wrist.

She broke his nose.

Then worse.

Police came.

No charges stuck.

Two days later, Lena appeared.

Not to praise her.

Not to pity her.

To teach her how to leave a room before violence became the only option.

Sera looked at Nico.

"How do you know this?"

"Because Elena kept records."

"Of me?"

"Of everyone she helped."

"Why?"

"Because she was building a case against my uncle."

Marco's father.

Marco looked like he had been hit.

Sera almost felt sorry for him.

Almost.

"What happened to those records?" she asked.

Nico looked at Rafe.

"Ask him."

Rafe stared.

"What?"

Nico slid a key across the table.

"Locker 302. Union Station."

Rafe did not touch it.

"What is this?"

"Elena left it for you."

"For me?"

"She trusts you."

Marco laughed without humor.

"Apparently my dead mother trusts everyone except me."

Nico looked at him.

"She was afraid you would become your father."

Marco's face went flat.

Sera watched him absorb it.

Not defend himself.

That mattered.

Rafe picked up the key.

"What's in the locker?"

Nico answered:

"Proof of who has been selling routes."

Marco looked at him.

"You know?"

"Yes."

"Then say it."

Nico shook his head.

"You won't believe me."

"Try."

Nico looked at Rafe.

Then Sera.

Then Marco.

"It's not one person."

Silence.

"It's a second payroll."

Marco frowned.

"What?"

"Your father built an off-book security network before he died."

Rafe's expression hardened.

"Impossible."

Nico looked at him.

"You were part of it."

Rafe stepped forward.

Marco raised one hand.

Rafe stopped.

Nico continued.

"Not knowingly."

Rafe stared.

"You were paid through Cavallo Protection."

"Yes."

"That company still exists?"

"On paper."

"Who controls it?"

Nico looked at Marco.

"Elena."

Marco's eyes narrowed.

"Why would she run the network that is stealing from me?"

"She isn't."

"Then who?"

Nico hesitated.

Sera said, "This is where people make it worse."

Nico almost smiled.

"Your father put one other person on the account."

Marco looked at him.

"Who?"

"Rafe's brother."

Rafe froze.

"My brother is dead."

Nico nodded.

"According to his obituary."

Nobody moved.

Sera looked at Rafe.

His face had gone completely still.

That was worse than anger.

"What was his name?" she asked.

"Caleb."

"When did he die?"

"Seven years ago."

"Body?"

Rafe's eyes moved to her.

"No."

Sera exhaled.

"Of course."

Marco stood.

"We go to the locker."

Union Station was crowded enough to make everyone look harmless.

Sera hated it.

Rafe opened locker 302.

Inside was a black duffel.

No money.

Files.

A laptop.

Three old cassette tapes.

And one envelope.

RAFE.

He opened it.

One page.

Handwritten.

CALEB IS ALIVE.

Rafe stopped breathing.

Below it:

HE IS THE ONE SELLING THE ROUTES.

Marco read over his shoulder.

Rafe crushed the paper in his fist.

"No."

Sera looked at the laptop.

"Password?"

Nico said, "Elena told me you'd know."

Rafe stared at the screen.

Then typed one word.

MOTHER.

The laptop opened.

Sera looked at him.

Rafe said nothing.

Folders appeared.

Payments.

Truck routes.

Photos.

Audio.

And one live location pin.

Moving.

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Chicago.

Three blocks from the diner where Sera worked.