It had ended on November Seventh. Seven years ago.
Impossible that this was a coincidence.
Unable to sit still, he jumped to his feet and called Benjamin. The PI answered on the second ring.
“Got my report?” he said, voice as flat as usual.
“Yes. How much time would it take for you to find out about the American woman?”
“Maybe forever. The only reason I was able to dig up as much as I did was because I had the information you gave me. It’s not just the other driver. The police didn’t have your information either. So if the cabbie wants to find out who you are to squeeze more money out of you, he’s shit outta luck. Somebody didn’t want the details of the accident becoming public.”
“I see. Thanks.” Dane hung up.
It wasn’t fear of some cab driver demanding more that had made his family erase the trail.
Dane thought back.
He’d been moved to Italy soon after the doctors in Paris had declared he was well enough to travel. Shirley hadn’t wanted him in France.
“The lawyers will take care of everything,” she’d said.
Five fucking million bucks could take care of a lot of things.
What could’ve made Shirley and Salazar go to this extreme length to ensure secrecy?
Clutching the report, Dane went into the hall. “Al!”
The butler appeared like a ghost. “Sir?”
“Where’s my father?”
“In his study.”
Of course. Dane rushed up the stairs, thinking of all the things he should say. He didn’t want to betray himself, but the emotions churning inside him were too raw.
Without bothering to knock, he slammed the door open and walked inside the study.
Salazar was sipping scotch in a custom-tailored Italian shirt and slacks, while reading some documents. At the interruption, he put down the papers and looked at Dane. “You know, in my day people knew how to kno—”
“Whose idea was it to authorize the five million dollar settlement for my Paris accident?”
Something flickered in Salazar’s gaze. “The Paris thing? Who said we paid that kind of money—?”
“Shirley.”
“Oh.” He shrugged. “Well, it was Shirley’s call and I agreed. What about it?”
“Why did you offer so much?”
“Didn’t want to make Americans look bad. The French already think we’re assholes.”
Dane clenched his hands. Benjamin’s report crumpled in his grip. “You don’t give a fuck about anyone. I’ll ask again. Why?”
Salazar sat back with a sigh. “Because it was necessary.”
“Who was the other party?”
“A taxi driver.” Salazar rolled his eyes. “Obviously.”
“He had a passenger.”
“And? Why are you so curious about this all of a sudden? The money didn’t even come out of your bank account. You should be grateful that I took care of it.”
“Stop evading.” Dane gathered himself. He couldn’t unravel in front of Salazar. His father would enjoy the display too much. “Was it… Was it Sophia?”
Salazar met Dane’s gaze levelly, then snorted out a laugh. “Sophia? Who told you that?”
“Henry,” Dane lied.
The mirth vanished from Salazar’s face. “Son of a bitch. He was supposed to keep his mouth shut.”
Dane’s chest hurt like a spear had gone through it. He’d hoped…he’d wished Shirley had been mistaken about the five million dollar payment. But this was far worse. Sophia had had to give up her dream…because of him.
“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Dane’s voice shook.
“What the fuck’s wrong with me? I’m not the one who plowed two hundred thousand dollars’ worth of car into a taxi.”
“You thought five million would be enough?”
“Of course not! No Olympic gold medal’s worth a mere five million, not to the athlete.” Salazar sneered. “What? You didn’t know she was favored to win? The girl was a machine, undefeated for eight competitions in a row.”
Blood was rushing to his head, and Dane had to blink to clear the spots in his vision. Sophia had downplayed her accomplishments. He had no idea she’d been that good.
Salazar got up. “I did what was necessary, since you were a reckless idiot. What do you think Betsy would’ve done if she learned that my first-born had crippled her precious girl? She’d’ve held it over Geraldine, and your aunt suffered enough on that bitch’s account.”
“You don’t even like Geraldine.”
“What I like is irrelevant. It’s what your grandmother wanted.”
“You’re lying! She would’ve never—”