Chapter 15 - THE BLOOD BENEATH THE CONCRETEZ
The inside of the cottage was warm, smelled of cedarwood, tea, and old paper. Thomas Vance sat in a creaky wooden rocking chair near the stone hearth, his trembling hands wrapped around a mug of hot water. David and I sat across from him on a worn leather sofa.
"It was October thirteenth, 1999," Thomas began, his voice raspy as he stared into the flickering firelight. "I was thirty-four years old, working as Frank’s head job-site foreman. That night, I went back to the courthouse construction site around eleven PM because a sudden rainstorm threatened to wash out the wet foundation pour we had finished earlier that afternoon."
He took a slow, painful breath, reliving the horror.
"When I pulled up to the site, the main floodlights were off, but I saw Frank’s Lincoln parked near the utility shed. Beside it was a black sedan belonging to a man named Marcus Kane—a high-level fixer for the syndicate Robert had borrowed money from. I thought Frank was just meeting him to negotiate interest payments."
Thomas looked up at me, his blue eyes filled with stark terror.
"I walked around the concrete mixer, and I heard them arguing. Kane was threatening Frank. He said if Frank didn't hand over controlling interest in the county project, Kane’s people were going to send Robert to the bottom of the lake and burn Frank’s house down with Nancy inside. Kane drew a gun."
"What did Grandpa do?" I asked, my blood running cold.
"Frank didn't panic," Thomas said grimly. "Frank was a tough, ruthless bastard when backed into a corner. Before Kane could raise the pistol, Frank hit him over the head with a heavy iron rebar stake from the concrete kit. Kane fell hard, striking his temple against the sharp corner of the steel foundation mold. He was dead before he hit the ground."
David leaned forward, horrified. "Frank killed a mob fixer on a public job site?"
"Yes," Thomas nodded gravely. "Frank turned around and saw me standing in the shadows. He knew if Kane’s body was found, the syndicate would slaughter our whole family in retaliation. So Frank made a decision right there in the dark. We dragged Kane’s body into the deep central utility trench—the structural foundation column for the main courthouse vault—and Frank engaged the automated concrete hopper. We buried Marcus Kane under forty feet of reinforced concrete."
A heavy, suffocating silence fell over the small cottage room. The very building where local judges now sat to administer justice was literally anchored by the body of a murdered mob enforcer.
"What about the two hundred and fifty thousand dollars?" I asked, forcing the words out past the lump in my throat.
"Frank knew Kane’s associates would come looking for him," Thomas explained. "Frank went straight home, emptied his private safe, and handed me the cash in a gym bag. He told me to take Kane’s sedan, drive it north across the Canadian border, set it on fire in the woods, and disappear forever. He told me if I ever returned, or if I ever contacted Nancy, Kane’s associates would find out the truth and annihilate Carol, Susan, and Robert."
"Frank framed Carol for the missing cash to create a distraction," I realized, the full, sinister genius of Grandpa Frank’s cover-up becoming terrifyingly clear. "He knew if the police and the family were busy arguing over a domestic theft, no one would ask why Marcus Kane had vanished off the face of the earth!"
"Frank sacrificed his own daughter’s life and reputation to hide a murder," David said, his voice dripping with disgust. "And he paid you a monthly stipend to stay in Canada and keep quiet."
"I took the money because I was terrified," Thomas wept, burying his face in his hands. "Every single day for twenty-five years, I lived in this frozen woods, knowing I helped bury a man, knowing Carol was taking the blame for my cowardice. When Nancy’s death notice appeared in the Syracuse papers six months ago, I knew the monthly wire payments would end. But I couldn't carry this to my grave, Emily. I couldn't."
I stood up from the sofa, my heart breaking for my mother, for my grandmother, and for the hollowed-out old man sitting before me.
"You have to come back with us, Thomas," I said firmly.
May you like
Thomas looked up, startled. "If I go back, I'll go to prison as an accessory to murder! The syndicate... Robert’s old connections... they'll kill me!"
"The syndicate is gone, Thomas," David said, placing a reassuring hand on the old man's shoulder. "And the concrete foundation at the county courthouse is already under federal inspection due to Robert's fraud. They are planning to drill core samples next month. They are going to find Kane's remains whether you testify or not. This is your only chance to give Carol her complete freedom."
