Chapter 8 - The Secret of Harbor Seven
Harbor Seven was an old shipping terminal on the edge of the city, now used for storage and municipal equipment. Naomi traced its history through public records and discovered that the missing funds had been routed through a company that rented space there. Antonio's notes suggested he had been preparing to confront the Bellamys, but no one knew whether the money had been stolen or simply moved through a badly managed deal.
Lorenzo wanted to go to the terminal immediately. Naomi told him to stay away and let investigators handle it. To my surprise, he listened.
That left us with waiting, which was somehow harder than action.
Evelyn's medical results came back that week. Her doctor explained the findings and recommended a treatment plan tailored to her symptoms, including therapy and practical tools for daily life. Evelyn listened carefully, asked questions, and wrote down what mattered to her. No one promised a cure. No one suggested she was less herself.
Afterward, she asked Lorenzo to take her to a diner instead of a fancy restaurant. We went together because she insisted. At a booth by the window, she ordered pancakes, used her weighted utensils, and spilled a little syrup on her sleeve.
“Disaster,” she announced solemnly.
Lorenzo handed her a napkin. “A national emergency.”
She laughed so hard that the waitress smiled from across the room.
For a few hours we were three ordinary people eating breakfast. It felt like an extravagant gift.
On the drive home, Evelyn asked me what I wanted to do when I wasn't working. I admitted I'd once dreamed of becoming an occupational therapy assistant. Watching my grandmother struggle after a stroke had made me interested in helping people keep their independence. Tuition had seemed impossible after Dad lost his job.
“You should apply,” she said.
“Mrs. Moretti—”
“Not because I said so. Because you want to.”
That distinction mattered.
I researched programs that night and found a community college with evening prerequisites. I could afford the first semester if I saved carefully. For the first time in years, my future looked like more than next month's bills.
Then Naomi called with news from Harbor Seven. Investigators had located a locked archive cabinet containing copies of shipping invoices. One invoice bore Victor's signature. Another showed payments to a company that didn't exist at the listed address.
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It was a breakthrough, but the detective cautioned that they still needed bank records and witness testimony.
At midnight Cassandra phoned Lorenzo and left a voicemail. Her voice was ragged. “Victor knows they found the invoices. He's going to run. And he says he'll take someone with him.”
