Chapter 4 - The Man Who Died
The dead man's name was Victor Salazar. He had worked nights at Rowan Street Music Hall for nineteen years, sweeping practice rooms after children went home and replacing broken piano keys at his own expense. His daughter Talia had been twenty-six when the fire happened. She'd sat through every day of Adam's trial and looked Owen in the eye when the guilty verdict was read.
By morning, a clip from the wedding had spread across Philadelphia. Owen had not posted it. He hated seeing Ivy's face replayed alongside cruel comments from strangers who knew nothing about her.
He asked Mina to send the full original recording to his attorney, Priya Shah, not the internet. Then he drove to the little flower shop where Talia worked. He waited until the last customer left.
She recognized him through the glass. "You have some nerve."
"You're right," he said. "But I came because somebody said your dad couldn't get out that night."
Talia's jaw clenched. "The fire report said the east door jammed in the heat."
"Did he ever mention a problem before the fire?"
"Why would I tell you? Your brother was convicted."
"Because if the wrong person is in prison, whoever killed your father is still free."
She almost closed the door. Then she stopped. "Dad called me at eleven forty-eight. He never called during his shift unless he was bored. That night he wasn't bored."
"What did he say?"
"He said there was a truck in the alley and two men arguing by the loading dock. He told me not to worry, that he was going to check the back door." Her voice dropped. "The call cut off."
"Was that in the trial?"
"I told the detective. He said it didn't prove anything."
Owen told her about the wedding recording and the stolen music-box house. He did not ask her to trust him. He put Priya's number on the counter and left it there.
Talia looked at the number a long time. Then she reached into a drawer and took out an old phone with a cracked screen.
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"I couldn't bring myself to wipe his last voicemail," she said. "The police never asked for this one."
She played it. Victor's strained voice filled the flower shop: "Tal, it's Dad. If I don't call back, tell somebody the fire doors have new chains. The contractor said Cross ordered them."
