“Why did Dominic look scared when you said his name?”
“Because he knows this ledger exists.”
“Then why hasn’t he destroyed it?”
“He didn’t know my father kept it.”
“He knows now.”
Vincent nodded.
“Yesterday, when you said Patrick taught you, Dominic understood two things. The first was that I had started looking backward. The second was that Patrick had a daughter who might know what he kept.”
Cassidy’s skin went cold.
“I don’t have anything.”
“I didn’t say you did.”
“You invited me here to see whether I did.”
Vincent did not deny it.
Her anger rose immediately.
“So the fight was bait.”
“Partly.”
Cassidy stepped toward him.
“You don’t get to turn my father into one more test.”
“You’re right.”
She stopped.
Vincent reached into the bag again and removed an old pair of red hand wraps.
Cassidy knew them.
Her father had owned three pairs. One blue. One black. One red.
The red pair disappeared when she was twelve.
“Where did you get those?”
“They were in locker thirty-two.”
Vincent pointed toward a bank of metal lockers at the far wall.
“My father never emptied Patrick’s locker.”
“Why?”
“I think guilt.”
Cassidy crossed the room.
