“Not what.”
Her eyes filled with fear.
“Who.”
A chill moved through me.
“You’re saying Michael was hiding?”
“For forty years.”
“From whom?”
Rebecca reached for my hand.
I pulled away.
“Don’t touch me.”
Her face crumpled.
“I’m sorry.”
“You keep saying that.”
“Because this is going to hurt.”
I laughed bitterly.
“More than learning my husband lied about his name for our entire marriage?”
“Yes.”
I stared at her.
“What did he do?”
“He witnessed something.”
“What?”
“A murder.”
Daniel corrected her quietly.
“Three murders.”
I felt the blood drain from my face.
Rebecca continued.
“It happened in 1980. Michael was twenty-six. He worked nights at a warehouse near Cicero while finishing school.”
“He told me he worked at a restaurant.”
“That came later.”
She explained that one night Michael had arrived early for his shift and seen three men dragging an injured employee into an office.
One of those men had been connected to an organized-crime family.
