“You.”
Diana touched her own stomach unconsciously.
“When I told him I was pregnant, Frank went completely still. We were sitting at Waterfront Park. Third bench from the east entrance.”
Her eyes filled.
“He asked me if I was afraid.”
“What did you say?”
“I said yes.”
Diana smiled faintly.
“He said, ‘Good. Me too. That means we’re paying attention.’”
Hank looked toward the window.
Diana continued.
“Then he told me he was getting out.”
“Why not just leave?”
“You didn’t leave Dale Cutter.”
“What did he do?”
Hank answered.
“He owned trucking companies. warehouses. construction firms. bars. security companies. He paid people in city government. cops. attorneys. Dock supervisors.”
Sarah stared.
“And my father knew all of that.”
“He helped build the system,” Hank said.
“Then why would I feel sorry for him?”
Hank did not flinch.
“You shouldn’t. Not yet.”
Diana looked at him sharply.
“He was twenty-six.”
“He still made choices.”
Sarah watched Hank.
“You loved him.”
“Yes.”
“And you still think he did bad things.”
“Yes.”
Something about that answer made Sarah trust him slightly more.
Hank continued.
“Frank knew leaving wasn’t enough. Cutter would find him. So he decided to take the whole structure down.”
Diana rose and moved the refrigerator away from the wall.
Behind it was a taped manila envelope.
Sarah stared.
“You kept that there?”
“Eight apartments.”
“You moved that envelope eight times?”
“Yes.”
Inside were photographs, photocopied documents, and a single folded page covered in Frank’s handwriting.
Hank said, “He copied Cutter’s books for three weeks.”
“Financial records?”
“Everything he could reach.”
“Why?”
“He planned to go federal.”
Sarah looked at the page.
“What happened?”
Hank’s mouth tightened.
“He told the wrong man.”
“Who?”
“Victor Briggs.”
Diana whispered the name like it still hurt.
“Frank’s second-in-command.”
“Second-in-command of what?”
Hank looked at her.
“That’s the part your mother never wanted you to know.”
Diana stood abruptly.
“Hank.”
“She asked for the truth.”
“Not everything.”
Sarah rose.
“What else?”
Diana looked terrified.
“Hank.”
He ignored her.
“Your father wasn’t just one of Cutter’s drivers.”
Sarah waited.
“He ran Cutter’s Portland operation.”
Silence.
Diana covered her face.
Sarah felt as though the floor shifted.
“My father was a criminal.”
Hank said nothing.
“Say it.”
“Yes.”
“What kind?”
“Organized theft. fraud. transport. extortion.”
Sarah backed away.
“And you wanted me to think he was some hero?”
“No.”
Diana stood.
“Sarah, he changed.”
“After how many people got hurt?”
“We don’t know.”
“You don’t know?”
“He never told me everything.”
Sarah looked at Hank.
“You did.”
“Yes.”
“How many?”
Hank took a long breath.
“Enough that Frank knew walking away wasn’t redemption.”
“So he became an informant because he felt guilty.”
“No.”
“Then why?”
Hank looked directly at her.
“Because Cutter gave him an order.”
“What order?”
“To kill someone.”
Diana began crying.
Sarah did not move.
“Who?”
“A dockworker named Peter Salazar,” Hank said. “He had seen something he wasn’t supposed to see.”
“And Frank refused?”
“Frank told Cutter he handled it.”
Sarah’s eyes narrowed.
“He didn’t.”
“No. He put Salazar and his family on a bus to California with twenty thousand dollars.”
Sarah stared.
“That was when Cutter started suspecting him.”
Diana whispered, “Then I told him about you.”
Hank nodded.
“Frank decided he would not raise a child in a world where killing somebody was part of Tuesday.”
Sarah looked at the photograph again.
A criminal.
A father.
A murderer who had apparently refused to murder.
A man she had hated for abandoning her.
A man who died before meeting her.
The truth was not cleaner than the lie.
It was worse.
But it was alive.
“What happened to him?”
Diana closed her eyes.
“Briggs betrayed him.”
Hank continued.
“Frank trusted Victor because they’d grown up together. He told him about the federal deal.”
“Why?”
“He wanted Briggs to come with him.”
Sarah laughed bitterly.
“Another bad decision.”
“Yes.”
“What did Briggs do?”
“Called Cutter.”
Diana’s voice broke.
“They took Frank to an old warehouse on Terminal Two.”
Hank stared at nothing.
“They kept him there for two days.”
Sarah suddenly did not want details.
Hank seemed to understand.
“He never told them where the evidence was.”
“How do you know?”
Hank’s face changed.
“Because I was there.”
The kitchen became absolutely silent.
Sarah looked at him.
“What?”
Diana stood.
“Hank.”
Sarah walked toward him.
“You were there?”
Hank did not move.
“Yes.”
“You watched them kill my father?”
His voice dropped.
“Yes.”
Sarah slapped him.
Hard.
Diana gasped.
Hank’s head turned with the blow.
He did not raise a hand.
Sarah struck him again.
“You promised him?”
“Yes.”
“You stood there?”
“I was undercover inside Cutter’s crew.”
“Don’t.”
“That’s the truth.”
“You stood there!”
“Yes.”
“Why didn’t you help him?”
“Because Frank told me not to.”
Sarah shoved him.
He hit the wall.
“He was dying!”
“I know.”
“You could have stopped it!”
“No.”
“You were Hells Angels. You had men.”
“Not there.”
“You had a gun.”
Hank looked at her.
“Yes.”
“So you could’ve done something.”
“I could’ve gotten us both killed and left your mother alone with Cutter looking for her.”
Sarah froze.
Hank’s eyes were wet now.
“Frank knew that.”
He reached into his vest.
This time Sarah did not flinch.
He removed a folded scrap of paper.
Old.
Yellowed.
“His last message.”
Diana stared.