Chapter 20: The Service Elevator

Mitchell's POV

On the afternoon of my brother's wedding I put on the only suit I owned.

I drove to the one place I swore I'd never go back to.

The service entrance of the Ashcroft Grand was down a ramp on the side street.

It opened onto the garage.

I stopped the truck at the bottom, under the same concrete pillar, and turned off the engine.

Seven years of rain had washed the stain out of the floor.

I knew exactly where it had been.

A man in a gray uniform stepped out of the guard booth and held up a palm.

"Employees only. Wedding guests use the front."

"I'm not a guest."

"Name?"

"Mitchell Ashcroft."

His face changed.

He knew the name and the photograph from the papers.

He knew somebody upstairs had told him to look for me.

"I was told to call the minute you showed up," he said.

"Then call."

He didn't reach for the phone.

He looked past me at the street, and I looked where he was looking.

A dusty sedan had pulled in behind my truck.

The valet's father got out of the passenger side in a church suit that was a size too tight at the shoulders.

From the driver's seat came a younger man, tall and thin, leaning on a black cane.

The cane scraped on the concrete as he came toward us.

I had last seen his face as a boy of nineteen with blood in his hair.

He stopped three feet away.

He was looking at the pillar behind me, not at me.

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