Chapter 4 - Someone Inside the House
Dominic’s house in Brookline looked secure enough to survive a siege.
Stone walls.
Iron gates.
Cameras.
Private security.
Nothing about it felt safe now.
Every employee was gathered in the formal dining room before sunrise.
Drivers.
Housekeepers.
Grounds staff.
Security personnel.
Leo’s tutors.
Kitchen staff.
Dominic stood at the head of the room.
Jenna sat beside Leo.
She had not slept in twenty-four hours.
She also had no idea why she was still there.
Then Leo reached for her hand whenever a new adult entered.
That was why.
Marco placed the recorder on the table.
“Only senior staff knew Mrs. Valenti kept personal recordings.”
Dominic looked at Rosa’s empty chair.
“She knew.”
“Rosa’s been with you twenty-three years.”
“She knew.”
Jenna leaned toward Leo.
“Do you trust her?”
“With everything.”
“Then maybe that matters.”
Dominic heard.
“Trust is exactly what got us here.”
Leo flinched.
Jenna looked at him.
“No.”
Dominic frowned.
“No what?”
“Don’t teach him that lesson.”
“This concerns my family.”
“Then teach him the right one.”
The room became uncomfortable.
Jenna continued.
“Trusting people isn’t the mistake. Ignoring warning signs is.”
Dominic stared at her.
One of the older security men looked almost amused.
Dominic said, “You argue for a living?”
“I frost cupcakes.”
That broke tension for half a second.
Then Marco started questioning staff.
Who had access to Elena’s old office?
Who knew about Richard?
Who handled Leo’s transportation?
Who could enter without appearing on visitor logs?
One answer kept appearing.
Almost everyone.
Because this was a home, not a prison.
Dominic had protected his family from outside threats while assuming danger could not live inside.
At nine that morning, Rosa woke.
She asked for Dominic.
He went immediately.
Jenna stayed with Leo.
The boy sat by a window overlooking the garden.
“Do you want breakfast?”
“No.”
“You need something.”
“Dad says that too.”
“Your dad seems annoyingly correct sometimes.”
Leo smiled faintly.
Then he looked at her.
“Are you leaving?”
Jenna hesitated.
“I should.”
“Why?”
“Because I have rent.”
“My dad has money.”
“That isn’t how rent works.”
“It could be.”
She laughed.
Then his expression became serious.
“My mom used to cook when she was scared.”
“What?”
“Pancakes.”
“That’s specific.”
“She burned them.”
“Less impressive.”
Leo smiled.
Then looked down.
“I don’t remember her voice very well.”
Jenna’s chest tightened.
“You heard it last night.”
“Yeah.”
“Maybe there are more recordings.”
“I hope so.”
Dominic returned an hour later.
His face told Jenna Rosa had remembered something.
“What did she say?”
Dominic looked at Leo.
“Not here.”
Leo bristled.
“It’s about Mom.”
“Yes.”
“Then I’m staying.”
“Leo.”
“I’m not a baby.”
Dominic looked toward Jenna, as though expecting support.
“You’re asking the wrong person.”
“Of course I am.”
Leo crossed his arms.
Dominic surrendered.
“Rosa received a package yesterday afternoon.”
“The recorder?”
“No.”
Jenna frowned.
“What was in the first package?”
“A key.”
“To what?”
“She didn’t know.”
Dominic placed it on the table.
Small brass key.
Number 314 stamped into one side.
Leo leaned closer.
“Mom had one like that.”
Dominic looked at him.
“What?”
“In her jewelry box.”
“When?”
“When I was little.”
“Are you sure?”
Leo nodded.
“She used to let me play treasure hunt.”
Dominic crouched.
“What did the key open?”
“I don’t know.”
“She never showed you?”
Leo thought.
“She said the last treasure was where trains sleep.”
Jenna frowned.
“Where trains sleep?”
Dominic stood.
“South Station lockers.”
Marco shook his head.
“They removed most long-term lockers years ago.”
“Then maybe not.”
Leo suddenly said, “Model trains.”
Everyone looked at him.
“Mom had them.”
Dominic froze.
“What model trains?”
“In the attic.”
They moved upstairs.
Dust covered boxes that had not been opened since Elena’s death.
Dominic clearly hated being there.
Jenna understood why.
Grief had been packed away rather than processed.
Leo pointed toward a wooden train set.
“Mom made this.”
A miniature Boston cityscape surrounded the tracks.
Tiny buildings.
Bridges.
Stations.
Jenna spotted a building numbered 314.
“Dominic.”
He saw it.
A miniature station.
The roof lifted.
Inside was another key.
This one silver.
Attached to a tag.
BOSTON HARBOR STORAGE — UNIT 314.
Marco immediately made calls.
The storage company still existed.
The unit had been paid anonymously for four years.
Dominic stared at the key.
“She planned this.”
Jenna nodded.
“For you to find eventually.”
“Why not tell me?”
“Maybe she tried.”
He looked at her.
“Maybe.”
They reached the harbor facility before noon.
Unit 314 contained four cardboard boxes.
No weapons.
No cash.
Documents.
Hundreds of them.
Financial statements.
Corporate registrations.
Bank transfers.
Photographs.
And Elena’s handwritten notes.
Dominic opened the first binder.
His face hardened.
Every suspicious account carrying Elena’s name connected back to shell companies controlled by Charles Whitmore.
Jenna scanned a page.
“Why use her identity?”
Richard, now cooperating through an attorney, provided the answer by phone.
Elena had discovered Charles laundering money through charitable foundations and construction funds.
He needed someone else to blame.
Dominic was perfect.
His reputation meant investigators would believe almost anything.
Elena’s marriage to Dominic made her the perfect bridge.
If the scheme surfaced, records would suggest Dominic used his wife’s identity to hide money.
Elena discovered it.
Then she secretly collected evidence.
“What about Richard?” Dominic asked.
Richard hesitated.
“I helped her.”
“Then why turn against Leo?”
“Because I blamed you.”
“For what?”
“For Elena dying before we could expose Charles.”
Dominic’s jaw tightened.
“You blamed a child too.”
“I was angry.”
“You were cruel.”
Richard said nothing.
Dominic ended the call.
Jenna looked through another box.
“Dominic.”
He turned.
She held a photograph.
Charles Whitmore shaking hands with someone Jenna recognized from Dominic’s dining room.
One of his senior accountants.
Martin Hale.
The quiet man who had handled Dominic’s books for almost fifteen years.
Dominic stared at the picture.
“Inside the house.”
Marco swore.
Martin was still at the estate.
With access.
To everything.
Dominic called security.
No answer.
Again.
Nothing.
Then Leo’s phone rang.
Unknown number.
Dominic snatched it.
A video appeared.
Live.
The camera showed Dominic’s own kitchen.
Martin Hale stood beside Rosa’s empty breakfast chair.
In one hand, he held a folder.
In the other, a lighter.
He looked into the camera.
“Dominic.”
Dominic went still.
Martin smiled.
“You finally found Elena’s boxes.”
Behind him, smoke began to rise.
“I’m afraid you won’t keep them for long.”
The camera shifted.
Someone sat tied to a chair across the kitchen.
Marlene.
Jenna’s catering supervisor.
She had been taken after leaving the hotel.
Jenna’s blood turned cold.
Martin brought the lighter closer to a stack of papers.
Then he looked directly into the camera.
“Bring me Unit 314.”
May you like
He paused.
“Or your caterer loses more than a job.”
