Chapter 12 - THE ATTORNEY WHO STOOD BESIDE THE DEVIL|
Gabriel Voss didn't run.
He didn't reach for a weapon.
He didn't attempt to destroy the recording.
He simply stood beside the door, staring at the floor.
Raymond looked at him.
For eleven years, Gabriel had handled his legal affairs.
He'd attended Daniel's funeral.
He'd helped establish charitable funds.
He'd advised Raymond through business disputes, government investigations, and the collapse of his marriage.
And now Daniel's final recording had named him as the man behind the conspiracy.
“Gabriel.”
Raymond's voice was quiet.
“Tell me that recording is wrong.”
Gabriel closed his eyes.
“I can't.”
The room went silent.
Hazel felt her stomach drop.
Detective Brooks stepped forward.
“Mr. Voss, we need you to remain here.”
Gabriel nodded.
“I understand.”
Raymond stared at him.
“You knew.”
Gabriel lowered his head.
“Yes.”
“You knew what Vivian was doing?”
“Yes.”
Raymond took a painful step forward.
“And Daniel?”
Gabriel's expression broke.
“Raymond—”
“Did you know they were going to kill him?”
Gabriel began shaking.
“I knew he was in danger.”
Raymond's face changed.
For a moment, Hazel thought he might lunge at the older man.
Instead, he gripped his cane until his knuckles turned white.
“You let me bury my brother.”
Gabriel looked up.
Tears filled his eyes.
“Yes.”
Raymond's breathing became uneven.
“You stood beside me at his funeral.”
“I know.”
“You told me there was nothing we could have done.”
Gabriel covered his mouth.
“I know.”
The silence afterward was unbearable.
Detective Brooks instructed an officer to escort Gabriel into a separate interview room.
He didn't resist.
But as he passed Hazel, he stopped.
“Miss Keen.”
She stared at him.
“What?”
“Your father tried to expose the same operation.”
Hazel felt cold.
Gabriel continued.
“He came to me eleven years ago.”
Her heart stopped.
“What?”
“He asked me to help him report the altered equipment records.”
Hazel could barely breathe.
“And what did you do?”
Gabriel looked down.
“I told Antonio Castellano.”
Raymond went rigid.
Hazel stared at Gabriel.
“You told the people he was investigating.”
His voice broke.
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“I was young.”
“Ambitious.”
“I convinced myself the company would correct the problem.”
Hazel laughed once.
It was a terrible sound.
“My father died.”
“I know.”
“You knew he was in danger.”
“Yes.”
“And you did nothing.”
Gabriel began crying.
Hazel stepped backward.
She didn't want to look at him anymore.
Detective Brooks guided him toward the interview room.
Then Hazel turned toward Raymond.
His face was pale.
She had never seen him look so completely defeated.
“My father,” he whispered.
Hazel nodded.
“Your father.”
Raymond closed his eyes.
“And Gabriel.”
Neither spoke for several moments.
Then Raymond lowered himself into a chair.
“I trusted him.”
Hazel sat beside him.
“I know.”
“He knew everything.”
She looked toward the hallway.
“Yes.”
Raymond pressed his hand over his face.
“He knew Daniel was investigating.”
“He knew Vivian was stealing.”
“He knew about the shipments.”
“And he let me believe I was fixing the problem.”
Hazel felt anger rising again.
Not only for her father.
Not only for Rosa.
For every person who had trusted men who valued influence more than human lives.
Raymond looked at her.
“I understand if you never want to see me again.”
She stared.
“What?”
“My father was involved in your father's death.”
“My attorney helped conceal it.”
“And my wife killed your friend.”
His voice broke.
“I wouldn't blame you.”
Hazel looked down.
There had been a time when she would have accepted the simplest explanation.
All Castellanos were dangerous.
All powerful men were corrupt.
All people connected to them were responsible for the same crimes.
But life wasn't that simple.
Raymond had inherited a corrupt organization.
He had benefited from it.
He had also begun cooperating with investigators before the fire.
And he'd accepted the possibility that the evidence would implicate his own family.
That mattered.
It didn't erase the harm.
But it mattered.
“Raymond,” Hazel said carefully.
“You aren't your father.”
He looked up.
“And you aren't Gabriel.”
His eyes filled.
“But you are responsible for what you did.”
He nodded.
“I know.”
She took a breath.
“And I'm responsible for what I choose now.”
Raymond watched her.
Hazel squeezed his hand.
“Right now, I choose to help Marisol.”
He nodded.
“Then let's bring her home.”
The police briefing continued.
Gabriel gave investigators a preliminary statement.
He admitted helping conceal financial records and misleading Raymond about the extent of Vivian's involvement.
He denied ordering Daniel's murder.
But he acknowledged that he had warned Vivian when Daniel began gathering evidence.
Investigators would have to determine his full responsibility.
Hazel listened without interrupting.
She wanted justice.
Not a convenient confession.
Not a story invented to make everything fit.
The truth.
Every ugly part of it.
At nine thirty, Detective Brooks received confirmation that Marisol was being held in a warehouse near Pier Nine.
A camera captured her through a second-floor window.
She appeared frightened but unharmed.
Hazel exhaled shakily.
“She's alive.”
Brooks nodded.
“Yes.”
Raymond stood beside her.
“What do you need from me?”
The detective studied him.
“Information about the building.”
Raymond pointed toward the map.
“The old offices are on the second floor.”
“The loading bay runs along the western wall.”
“There's a maintenance staircase behind the boiler room.”
Brooks wrote everything down.
“Any other entrances?”
“A service tunnel connecting to Pier Eight.”
Hazel looked up.
“Is it still open?”
Raymond frowned.
“I don't know.”
“It was sealed years ago.”
Detective Brooks looked toward her team.
“Verify that.”
The officers continued planning.
Hazel sat near the window.
For a long time, she listened to the distant sound of traffic.
Then Raymond approached.
“Hazel.”
She looked up.
“Are you afraid?”
He gave a sad smile.
“Yes.”
She hadn't expected the answer.
“Of what?”
“Losing another person because I failed to see the danger.”
Hazel swallowed.
“Raymond.”
He shook his head.
“My brother warned me.”
“I didn't listen.”
“Gabriel betrayed me.”
“I didn't notice.”
“Vivian nearly killed me.”
“I married her.”
Hazel studied him.
“You can't undo what happened.”
“I know.”
“But you can decide what you do next.”
He nodded.
She reached for his hand.
“Then do the right thing.”
His expression softened.
“I intend to.”
At eleven forty-five, Detective Brooks's phone rang.
She listened.
Then turned toward Hazel.
“We've made contact with Vivian.”
Hazel stood immediately.
“Is Marisol okay?”
“Yes.”
“For now.”
Hazel swallowed.
“What does Vivian want?”
“The documents.”
“And you?”
Brooks nodded.
“She wants Hazel brought to the front entrance.”
Raymond's expression hardened.
“No.”
Detective Brooks raised a hand.
“We're not following Vivian's instructions without safeguards.”
Hazel looked toward the warehouse photographs.
“What if seeing me keeps her talking?”
Brooks considered the question.
“Possibly.”
“But we won't place you in danger without a controlled plan.”
Hazel nodded.
She didn't want to be reckless.
She wanted Marisol alive.
The next several minutes passed in a blur.
Officers moved into position.
Communications were checked.
And Detective Brooks explained exactly what Hazel would and wouldn't be asked to do.
Then Hazel's phone rang.
Vivian again.
“Are you coming, little maid?”
Hazel took a breath.
“I'm here.”
Vivian laughed.
“Good.”
Hazel looked toward the dark warehouse across the road.
“Where is Marisol?”
“Inside.”
“Let me hear her.”
A rustling sound followed.
Then Marisol whispered, “Hazel?”
Hazel nearly cried.
“I'm here.”
“Please don't come inside.”
Vivian snatched the phone away.
“Enough.”
Hazel closed her eyes.
“You have the documents you wanted.”
“Then you should have no reason to keep her.”
Vivian's voice became cold.
“Bring them to me.”
Hazel glanced toward Detective Brooks.
The detective gave a small signal.
“Vivian,” Hazel said.
“Before I do, I want to ask one question.”
Vivian sighed.
“What?”
“Why did you leave Raymond behind that door?”
There was a pause.
Then Vivian answered.
“Because he stopped being useful.”
Hazel felt cold.
“He loved you.”
Vivian laughed.
“Love is what poor people call a bargain when they have nothing valuable to offer.”
Hazel looked toward Raymond.
He stood several feet away.
His face was expressionless.
She swallowed.
“And Rosa?”
“Rosa saw too much.”
“What about my father?”
Vivian was silent.
Hazel pressed on.
“Michael Keen.”
“Do you remember him?”
A long pause.
Then Vivian spoke with unmistakable irritation.
“That mechanic never knew when to stop asking questions.”
Hazel's eyes filled.
“So you knew him.”
“Of course I knew him.”
“He nearly ruined everything before it began.”
Hazel gripped the phone.
“Did you kill him?”
Vivian laughed.
“Your father died because he stood beneath machinery he should have stayed away from.”
The cruelty made Hazel feel physically sick.
Then Vivian added something that chilled her.
“Just like you're standing in a place you shouldn't be tonight.”
The call ended.
Hazel stared at the screen.
Detective Brooks moved closer.
“We recorded the call.”
Hazel nodded.
“She admitted knowing Dad.”
“Yes.”
“And Rosa.”
“Yes.”
Hazel looked toward the warehouse.
“She thinks she's going to get away.”
Brooks's expression hardened.
“Not if we can prevent it.”
Then a sharp sound came from the second floor.
Glass shattered.
A woman's scream echoed through the building.
Hazel turned.
“MARISOL!”
Detective Brooks immediately called for an update.
Officers moved toward the entrance.
Raymond caught Hazel's arm before she could run forward.
“Stay here.”
She struggled to breathe.
“But she screamed.”
“I know.”
His voice shook.
“But running in won't help her.”
Hazel stared at him.
Then she heard another voice from the warehouse.
Not Marisol.
Vivian.
Shouting.
“GET AWAY FROM THE WINDOW!”
A second crash followed.
Then a young woman's voice rang out.
“YOU DON'T GET TO DECIDE WHETHER I LIVE!”
Hazel stopped breathing.
May you like
Marisol was fighting back.
And whatever Vivian had planned for the night was beginning to unravel.
