Chapter 6 - The Man Who Handled Her Father
Bridget read the name three times.
Adrian Mercer.
Federal handler.
The letters remained the same.
“That’s impossible.”
Evelyn Grant did not blink.
“No.”
“He was working for the Costellos.”
“He was also working with federal intelligence.”
“As what?”
“Confidential liaison.”
Gabriel laughed.
“That’s a polished way of saying traitor.”
Grant ignored him.
Bridget looked at Dominique.
He seemed as stunned as she was.
“You didn’t know?”
“No.”
Grant collected the papers.
“Thomas Collins began cooperating after discovering Vesper.”
Bridget’s mind raced.
“My father wrote that he trusted Dominique.”
“He did.”
“But his handler was Adrian.”
“Yes.”
“So Adrian knew everything my father knew.”
Grant’s silence was answer enough.
Bridget stood.
“And you people never thought that mattered?”
“It mattered.”
“My father died.”
“We investigated.”
“And concluded heart attack.”
Grant’s jaw tightened.
“The original toxicology report was altered.”
“By Vale?”
“We believe so.”
“You believe.”
Gabriel stepped forward.
“Careful.”
Bridget turned on him.
“No. I’m tired of everybody telling me to be careful while explaining how a dozen supposedly powerful people watched my father get murdered.”
Nobody answered.
Grant finally said, “I was a junior prosecutor then. I reopened his file eight months ago.”
“Why?”
“Because someone sent me a photograph.”
She placed another image down.
Dominique entering a clinic.
The date was six months earlier.
“The beginning of his treatment,” Bridget said.
“Yes.”
“Who sent it?”
“Anonymous.”
Dominique spoke weakly.
“Father.”
Grant looked at him.
“You knew he was alive?”
“Yes.”
“That would have been useful.”
“He didn’t trust federal prosecutors.”
Grant almost smiled.
“Reasonable.”
Bridget crossed her arms.
“What happens now?”
“Dominique enters protective custody.”
“No.”
Everyone looked at him.
Grant approached.
“You are not in a negotiating position.”
Dominique’s eyes opened fully.
For the first time since Bridget found the vial, the old authority returned to his voice.
“I’m always in a negotiating position.”
“You can’t stand.”
“I don’t need to.”
Grant showed him the warrant.
“Murder conspiracy.”
“Whose?”
“Anthony Rizzo.”
Dominique stared.
Then laughed softly.
“You’ve been set up,” Gabriel said.
Grant nodded.
“Possibly.”
“Possibly?”
“Evidence places Dominique’s people at Rizzo’s murder.”
Dominique closed his eyes.
“Adrian.”
Grant looked at him.
“You think Mercer arranged it?”
“He arranged everything else.”
Bridget watched Dominique’s breathing.
Too fast.
She touched his wrist.
“Enough.”
Grant studied her.
“You’re protective of him.”
“He’s been poisoned for six months.”
“He’s also Dominique Costello.”
“I know his name.”
“Do you know what it means?”
Bridget met her gaze.
“Yes.”
That answer surprised Grant.
Bridget continued.
“I know he has done things I probably don’t want details about. I also know somebody tried to murder him slowly while stealing his business, framed him for another murder, and apparently killed my father twelve years ago. Those facts can exist at the same time.”
Grant’s expression softened by a fraction.
“You really are Thomas Collins’s daughter.”
“So everyone keeps telling me.”
A plan formed.
Not from brilliance.
From exhaustion.
“What do you need to prove Adrian did this?”
Grant looked at her.
“Direct evidence.”
“The fake vial.”
“What?”
Bridget explained the exchange.
Adrian had taken the replica.
Grant listened carefully.
“He believes you returned the original.”
“Yes.”
“So he may believe the evidence is gone.”
“Yes.”
Gabriel understood.
“You want to bait him.”
Bridget looked at Dominique.
“He already thinks I’m frightened.”
Dominique shook his head.
“No.”
“You don’t get a vote.”
“I absolutely do.”
“You’re under arrest.”
Grant cleared her throat.
“Technically.”
Dominique glared at Bridget.
“It’s too dangerous.”
“Like cleaning your bathroom?”
“Bridget.”
She leaned closer.
“You trusted me when everyone else around you was lying. Trust me again.”
Their eyes held.
Something passed between them.
Not romance.
Not yet.
Something deeper than attraction and more dangerous than gratitude.
Recognition.
Two people who had been underestimated for different reasons.
Dominique finally said, “What’s the plan?”
That night, word spread that Dominique Costello had been transferred to federal custody.
In reality, he remained in a secure medical wing under a different name.
Gabriel disappeared from view.
Grant’s agents withdrew publicly.
Bridget returned home.
Alone.
She left her curtains open.
Turned on the kitchen light.
Placed the original vial on the table.
Then waited.
At 11:47 p.m., somebody knocked.
Bridget looked through the peephole.
Adrian.
She opened the door.
He smiled.
“May I come in?”
“No.”
His smile widened.
“Still stubborn.”
“Still alive.”
“For now.”
Her pulse jumped.
Adrian saw it.
Good.
She wanted him to.
“You threatened my mother.”
“I warned you.”
“You killed my father.”
That changed his expression.
Only briefly.
“I wondered when you would learn.”
Bridget’s nails dug into her palm.
“You admit it?”
“No.”
“Coward.”
Adrian sighed.
“Thomas was a complicated man.”
“He trusted you.”
“He used me.”
“You were his federal handler.”
“I was many things.”
Bridget stepped aside.
“Come in.”
Adrian entered.
A recording device hidden behind the bookshelf captured every word.
He sat.
Bridget remained standing.
“You wanted the vial.”
“I thought you returned it.”
“I returned one.”
Adrian’s face hardened.
Bridget took the original from her pocket.
Blue cap.
Number 47.
For the first time, she saw real fear.
“That should have been destroyed.”
“So it matters.”
“Give it to me.”
“No.”
He stood.
“Bridget.”
“What was in it?”
“You know enough.”
“Say it.”
“Why?”
“So I can understand why my father died.”
Adrian looked at her for a long moment.
Then something changed.
His voice lost its warmth.
“Your father died because he mistook morality for leverage.”
Bridget barely breathed.
“He discovered a system powerful men had spent decades building. Instead of taking his share, he tried to expose it.”
“You poisoned him.”
“I did not administer the dose.”
“Vale did.”
Adrian smiled.
Bridget had him.
The recording had him.
She needed more.
“And Dominique?”
“Dominique inherited his father’s weakness.”
“Which was?”
“Conscience.”
She almost laughed.
“You’re accusing a mafia boss of being too ethical?”
“Ethics are relative.”
“So you poisoned him too.”
“He would never have surrendered control voluntarily.”
Bridget looked at the vial.
“Why slow?”
“Because bullets create questions.”
The sentence chilled her.
“Who is Vesper now?”
Adrian’s smile disappeared.
Bridget pushed.
“Your father?”
“Dead.”
“Salvatore?”
“Gone.”
“You?”
A pause.
Too long.
Then Adrian said, “Vesper is no longer a person.”
“What is it?”
“A structure.”
“Controlled by who?”
“People you will never meet.”
“Names.”
“No.”
“Then you’re afraid of them.”
He moved so fast Bridget barely saw it.
His hand closed around her wrist.
She gasped.
The vial almost fell.
“Enough.”
Her heart raced.
Behind the wall, federal agents waited for Grant’s signal.
Why had they not entered?
Bridget glanced toward the bookshelf.
The recording light was off.
Adrian followed her gaze.
He smiled.
“You really thought I came alone?”
Her stomach dropped.
The electricity went out.
Darkness swallowed the apartment.
Adrian twisted her wrist.
The vial fell.
Glass shattered.
Bridget screamed.
A second later, gunfire exploded from the hallway.
Then someone kicked in the door.
Adrian released her.
Bridget crawled behind the sofa.
Emergency lights from the street flashed through the windows.
A silhouette entered.
Tall.
Broad.
Holding a gun.
Bridget expected Gabriel.
Instead, Dominique Costello stepped through the doorway.
May you like
Standing on his own feet for the first time in months.
And the gun in his hand was aimed at Adrian’s heart.
