Chapter 10 — She Chose to Leave

Vincent looked at Vivian’s hand against Dominic’s chest.

He had bought the bracelet on her wrist in Paris.

She had sent him a photograph of it beside a hotel window and told him she missed him.

Now she wore it while another man held her.

“Take your hands off her,” Vincent said.

Dominic looked down at his arm as if he had forgotten where it was.

Then he tightened it.

“You always were good at giving orders.”

Vivian glanced toward the club entrance.

“Don’t make a scene.”

Vincent stared at her.

“A scene?”

“People are watching.”

“You’re worried about people watching?”

She stepped out from beneath Dominic’s arm, but she didn’t come closer.

“I was going to tell you.”

“When?”

“When things settled down.”

Vincent laughed once.

It sounded painful.

“My house is gone. Paul won’t answer to me. Your name is on my door with his. What exactly are you waiting to settle?”

“The club belongs to the new company,” Dominic said. “You signed your interests over. Claire sold them.”

Vincent turned on him.

“You went to my wife?”

“We went through her attorney.”

“You bought what belonged to me.”

“What used to belong to you.”

Dominic tapped the brass plate beside the entrance.

“It’s all in writing.”

Vincent looked at Vivian again.

“Get in the car.”

She frowned.

“No.”

The word struck him harder than Dominic’s smile.

“I said get in.”

“I heard you.”

“Then move.”

She folded her arms.

“Where would we go, Vincent?”

He opened his mouth.

The estate came to mind before he remembered the locked gate.

Vivian watched him remember.

Her expression softened, but there was no kindness in it.

“You don’t even have an answer.”

“I can rebuild.”

“With what?”

He glanced toward Dominic.

“With people who haven’t forgotten what I’ve done for them.”

Dominic pushed away from the car.

“Most of them remember. That’s the problem.”

Vincent took a step toward him.

Vivian put a hand against Dominic’s arm.

“Don’t.”

For a moment, Vincent thought she was trying to protect him.

Then she added, “He isn’t worth another charge.”

Dominic smiled.

Vincent’s hands curled.

“I lost everything for you.”

Vivian looked away.

“No,” she said. “You lost everything because you got caught.”

He went still.

She seemed to realize what she had said, but she didn’t withdraw it.

“You told me Claire drove you away.”

“I was upset.”

“You cried every time I called.”

“Because I was miserable.”

“You said she made you leave.”

Vivian glanced at Dominic.

He was watching her with interest now.

“Vincent, that was a long time ago.”

“Answer me.”

She let out an impatient breath.

“The family was falling apart.”

He stared.

“Your father’s debts were coming out. Everyone was fighting. I didn’t want to stay in that house and wait for the next disaster.”

“So Claire—”

“Claire helped me leave.”

The words landed without drama.

No raised voice.

No hesitation.

She said them as if he should have known.

Vincent looked at the pavement.

Then back at her.

“What?”

“She booked the flight. She helped me find somewhere to live.”

“You said she forced you.”

“I said I couldn’t stay.”

“No. You told me she wanted you gone.”

Vivian’s mouth tightened.

“You heard what you wanted.”

Dominic laughed.

Vivian turned sharply toward him.

“Not now.”

But Vincent barely noticed.

He saw Claire standing in the bathroom doorway with her overnight bag.

I didn’t drive her away.

He had stopped her before she could say another word.

He saw her in the kitchen, asking why he wouldn’t listen.

He saw a year of conversations in which Vivian had cried and he had supplied the accusations himself.

“You asked her,” he said.

Vivian looked tired of the subject.

“Yes.”

“You asked my wife to help you leave.”

“Yes.”

“And then you let me think—”

“You were angry. What was I supposed to do?”

“Tell the truth.”

She stared at him.

For several seconds, neither spoke.

Then Vivian said, “You don’t get to ask me that now.”

Vincent stepped toward her.

Dominic moved between them.

“Enough.”

“Get out of my way.”

“Walk away.”

Vincent tried to reach past him.

Dominic shoved him.

He stumbled against the edge of the car.

The driver from the hired vehicle got out.

“Sir, we should go.”

Vincent waved him off.

Dominic caught the movement.

“Even your driver wants you gone.”

Vincent swung.

Dominic blocked him and hit him hard enough to send him backward.

His shoulder struck the pavement first.

Then his head.

For a moment, the sky disappeared behind a burst of white.

He heard Vivian gasp.

He waited for her to tell Dominic to stop.

She said nothing.

Dominic crouched beside him.

“Remember outside this door?”

Vincent tried to sit up.

Dominic pushed him down.

“You had a lot to say that morning.”

Vincent tasted blood.

“I’ll destroy you.”

Dominic’s expression changed.

He looked almost pleased.

“With what?”

Vincent pulled his arm free.

Dominic stood and pressed a shoe against his hand.

Vincent cried out before he could stop himself.

Across the street, someone shouted.

Dominic removed his foot.

“Get him out of here,” he told the driver.

Vivian stood beside the car, holding her handbag against her stomach.

Vincent looked up at her.

“You watched.”

She glanced at the people across the street.

“Just leave.”

“You watched.”

Her face hardened.

“What do you want me to do? Go down with you?”

The driver helped Vincent stand.

He almost pulled away, then found that he couldn’t put his full weight on one leg.

Dominic opened the passenger door for Vivian.

She got in.

As the car pulled away, Vincent watched her turn toward Dominic.

Her hand returned to his arm.

The driver guided Vincent back to the hired car.

“Hospital?”

“No.”

“You’re bleeding.”

“Drive.”

“Where?”

Vincent gave him the address of an old apartment above a closed restaurant.

One place he still had a key to.

Rachel put my suitcase on the bed.

“Are you sure you want the early flight?”

“Yes.”

“You’ll have to be up before dawn.”

“I haven’t been sleeping much anyway.”

She opened the smaller bag.

“Medication?”

“In the side pocket.”

“Passport?”

I held it up.

“Eleanor’s number?”

“Saved.”

Rachel nodded.

Then she sat down.

The list had run out.

There was nothing left for her to check instead of saying goodbye.

“I could come for a week,” she said.

“I’d like that.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

Her shoulders eased.

Eleanor had arranged for me to remain available to the investigators through her office. The divorce process was moving. The property sale had closed.

For once, leaving did not mean abandoning unfinished work.

It meant letting other people do the jobs I had hired them to do.

I put the hospital envelope in my carry-on.

Rachel watched.

“Do you want me to hold it while you travel?”

“No.”

“All right.”

I zipped the bag.

“Have you heard anything about him?”

She paused.

“Paul called Eleanor. Vincent had an argument outside the Crown.”

“Is anyone coming here?”

“Eleanor doesn’t think so. She told the detective.”

I nodded.

“Keep your phone on.”

“I will.”

That night, I put my clothes for the airport on the chair.

I checked the lock.

Then I lay down in a room Vincent had never entered.

In the apartment above the restaurant, Vincent washed his face at a sink with a cracked mirror.

The water stung his split lip.

He gripped the basin and looked at himself.

Vivian’s voice kept returning.

Claire helped me leave.

He tried to call his attorney.

The call went unanswered.

He didn’t leave a message.

On his phone, he found an old photograph of Claire standing beside the nursery window.

Her palm rested beneath her stomach.

He enlarged it until the edge of her face disappeared from the screen.

Then he closed the image.

For several minutes, he stood without moving.

After dark, he put on a clean shirt.

He left the apartment with the keys still in his hand.

By midnight, he was outside the house Dominic had used for years.

A light burned in the living room.

Vivian’s coat hung over the back of a chair near the window.

Vincent stood in the darkness and watched her move across the room.

Then he crossed the yard.