Chapter 4 - The Man Behind the Second Account
Dante went downstairs first.
Ava followed despite his gesture telling her to remain behind.
The basement office was dark.
One cabinet stood open.
Nothing moved.
Dante switched on the light.
Empty.
But someone had been there.
Ava crossed to the cabinet.
Files had been pulled out and thrown across the floor.
Tax records.
Mortgage documents.
Old photographs.
Her father’s papers.
“What were they looking for?” Dante asked.
Ava crouched.
“I don't know.”
Then she noticed one empty section of the cabinet.
Ava had stored a box there for years.
“What?”
“My father’s records.”
“Financial?”
“Mostly.”
“Where are they?”
“Gone.”
Ava straightened.
Her father, Thomas Monroe, had died when she was thirteen.
Heart attack.
At least that was what she had always been told.
He had worked in transportation finance.
Not for DeLuca Holdings.
But suddenly Ava remembered something.
“Did you know my father?”
Dante didn't answer quickly enough.
Ava turned.
“Dante.”
“Yes.”
One word.
Everything inside her shifted.
“How?”
“He worked for a company we acquired.”
“When?”
“Twenty-three years ago.”
“You knew him personally?”
“Yes.”
“And you never told me?”
“I had reasons.”
“I’m getting tired of people having reasons.”
Dante accepted that.
Ava folded her arms.
“Start talking.”
Dante looked older suddenly.
“Your father discovered financial irregularities during an acquisition.”
“What kind?”
“Shell vendors. Inflated invoices. Money being redirected.”
“By whom?”
“We never proved it.”
“Richard?”
“I suspected him.”
Ava stared.
“And Elena?”
“She suspected him too.”
The pieces began moving.
Elena’s hidden archive.
Her father’s missing records.
Richard.
Adrian.
Vanessa.
Twenty million dollars.
“What happened to my father?”
“He was preparing to bring me evidence.”
Ava stopped breathing.
“He died the night before our meeting.”
The basement became very quiet.
“You’re saying his death wasn't natural?”
“No. I’m saying I never knew.”
Ava’s eyes burned.
For twenty-three years she had believed her father simply collapsed.
Dante continued carefully.
“Elena never stopped investigating.”
“And then she died.”
“Six years ago.”
“How?”
“Car accident.”
Ava looked at him.
Neither said what both were thinking.
Dante's phone rang.
Company security.
They had located the destination of the stolen $8.4 million.
Not overseas.
A domestic holding company.
The company had been created eleven months earlier.
Its registered director was a lawyer.
But the beneficial ownership record had just been obtained.
Dante listened.
Then looked at Ava.
“Who?”
“Adrian.”
That part wasn't surprising.
“And?”
Dante’s jaw tightened.
“Vanessa.”
Ava closed her eyes.
So her sister wasn't simply running away with the man she loved.
She owned part of the company receiving stolen money.
“Send me everything.”
Minutes later, Ava examined the documents.
Vanessa’s signature appeared on three formation papers.
But Ava knew her sister’s signature.
Something was wrong.
She enlarged it.
“That's not Vanessa’s signature.”
Dante looked.
“You’re certain?”
“I signed enough emergency loans for her businesses to know.”
Someone had used Vanessa’s identity too.
Ava immediately called her sister again.
No answer.
Then a text arrived.
Not from Vanessa.
From Adrian.
STOP LOOKING.
A second message followed.
VANESSA IS SAFE AS LONG AS YOU STOP.
Dante read it.
“Now we know.”
Ava nodded.
Adrian wasn't merely Vanessa’s lover.
Vanessa had become leverage.
Maybe she had willingly betrayed Ava at first.
But something had changed.
Ava typed:
LET ME TALK TO HER.
No response.
Then:
YOU TOOK MY CREDENTIALS. YOU HAVE THE MONEY. WHAT ELSE DO YOU WANT?
Three dots appeared.
Disappeared.
Appeared again.
Finally:
E-17.
Ava showed Dante.
“What is it?”
“Elena’s file.”
“Where?”
“I don't know.”
Adrian replied:
YOU HAVE UNTIL MIDNIGHT.
Ava stared at the message.
Then she remembered the boarding paper.
E-17 had been written on it.
Why would Vanessa carry that?
Unless someone had given it to her.
“Montreal,” Ava said.
“What?”
“The flight Thursday. Vanessa went to Montreal because someone there had information about E-17.”
Dante called the charter company.
This time he demanded the passenger manifest.
Two passengers.
Vanessa Monroe.
And Richard Hale.
Ava stared at him.
“Richard took her.”
Dante’s face became stone.
“To meet whom?”
They obtained the return manifest.
Three passengers.
Vanessa.
Richard.
And—
Dante went silent.
Ava took the phone.
The third passenger’s name made no sense.
She looked at Dante.
“That’s impossible.”
“I know.”
Because the woman listed on the flight had supposedly been dead for six years.
Elena DeLuca.
May you like
Dante’s wife.
And according to the manifest, she had returned to Chicago two days ago.
