Chapter 4 - The Man Who Refused the Order
Beatrice slapped Luca.
The sound cracked through Margaret’s living room.
Nobody moved.
“You knew?”
Luca touched his cheek.
“No.”
“You recognized his name.”
“Yes.”
“That means you knew.”
“I knew Cross worked for Greco.”
“And that he was sent after my sister?”
“I learned that after she died.”
Beatrice lunged toward him again.
Adriano caught her wrist gently.
“Let her go,” Luca said.
Adriano did.
Beatrice stepped back.
“Tell me everything.”
Luca nodded.
“Cross was an enforcer. Greco used him for problems that couldn’t become public. After the festival, Cross disappeared.”
“Because he killed Rachel?”
“No.”
“Then why?”
“Because he refused.”
Silence.
Luca continued.
“Greco ordered Rachel killed three days after the bombing. Cross followed her. Then something happened. He walked away from the organization.”
“What?”
“I never knew.”
Margaret whispered, “Theo.”
Everyone looked at her.
“Rachel had Theo with her when Cross found them.”
Beatrice closed her eyes.
A three-year-old child had saved his mother simply by existing.
But only temporarily.
Six months later Rachel died beneath the wheels of a car.
“Vescari finished it himself,” Adriano said.
Margaret nodded.
They needed Cross.
Finding him took two days.
During those two days, Theo moved his right toes.
Beatrice screamed so loudly a nurse came running.
Theo laughed.
“I did it!”
“Again.”
He moved them.
Beatrice kissed his forehead repeatedly.
Adriano stood in the doorway with coffee.
Theo pointed.
“Did you see?”
“I saw.”
“Do you think I can race you someday?”
Adriano entered.
“You’d lose.”
“Against a six-year-old?”
“Especially against a six-year-old.”
Beatrice gave him a look.
“You’re supposed to encourage him.”
“I’m encouraging competition.”
Theo laughed.
It was becoming dangerously easy for Adriano to like that sound.
He handed Beatrice coffee.
She accepted it.
That was new too.
“You slept?” he asked.
“Three hours.”
“Luxury.”
“You?”
“One.”
“Idiot.”
He almost smiled.
Their eyes held a second too long.
Beatrice looked away first.
Whatever existed between them had no business existing.
Not now.
Maybe never.
He was Adriano Sarti.
She knew enough about his world to understand that good men were not discussed in whispers.
But she had also seen him sitting beside Theo at midnight assembling a plastic model airplane because Theo couldn’t sleep.
People were inconveniently complicated.
At noon Luca called.
Cross had been found.
Wisconsin.
Living under the name David Cole.
They drove north.
Cross lived alone in a cabin near a frozen lake.
When he opened the door and saw Adriano, he reached for a gun.
“Don’t,” Beatrice said.
Cross looked at her.
His hand stopped.
“You’re Rachel’s sister.”
“How do you know me?”
“I went to the funeral.”
Beatrice stared.
“Why?”
“Because I failed her.”
He let them inside.
Cross was older than Beatrice expected.
Gray hair.
Weathered face.
No resemblance to the monster she had imagined.
That angered her more.
Monsters should look like monsters.
“You were sent to kill her.”
“Yes.”
“And you didn’t.”
“No.”
“Why?”
He looked toward a photograph on his shelf.
A little girl.
“My daughter died when she was four.”
He swallowed.
“When I found Rachel, Theo was asleep against her shoulder. I couldn’t do it.”
“So you warned her?”
“Yes.”
“Then why didn’t she run?”
“She was going to.”
Cross opened a metal box.
Inside were documents.
“She wanted to expose Vescari first.”
Adriano took one.
Financial transfers.
Greco.
Vescari.
Shell companies.
Police officials.
Hospital administrators.
Enough corruption to explain why the bombing investigation disappeared.
“Why keep these?” Adriano asked.
“Insurance.”
“Against whom?”
“Everyone.”
Beatrice stepped closer.
“Who killed Rachel?”
Cross looked at her.
“Vescari ordered it.”
“Who drove the car?”
Cross hesitated.
“Tell me.”
“I don’t know.”
“You’re lying.”
“I know the vehicle. I know who arranged it. I never learned who was behind the wheel.”
Beatrice’s face tightened.
Adriano touched her shoulder.
She didn’t pull away.
Cross handed him another envelope.
“Rachel gave me this.”
Beatrice recognized her sister’s handwriting.
FOR BEA.
Her knees weakened.
“Why didn’t you give it to me?”
“Because Rachel told me only if Vescari came back.”
“He came back?”
Cross looked at Adriano.
“He never left.”
Adriano’s expression sharpened.
“He’s been in Chicago?”
“For years.”
“Where?”
“I don’t know.”
“You expect me to believe that?”
“I know how he communicates.”
Cross pointed to the documents.
“He still controls people inside your organization.”
Adriano became very still.
“Names.”
“Not here.”
A vehicle approached outside.
Cross looked through the curtain.
His face changed.
“You were followed.”
Adriano reached for Beatrice.
The first shot shattered the window.
Cross killed the lights.
“Back door!”
They ran.
Luca’s security team returned fire.
Beatrice slipped in the snow.
Adriano caught her.
A black SUV blocked the driveway.
Cross led them toward the trees.
Then headlights appeared from the opposite direction.
Trapped.
Adriano pushed Beatrice behind a stone wall.
“Stay here.”
“Don’t you dare—”
“Please.”
The word stopped her.
Not an order.
A plea.
He moved toward Luca.
Gunfire echoed.
Then engines.
A vehicle accelerated away.
Silence returned.
Cross was bleeding from his shoulder.
Alive.
Adriano crouched beside him.
“The names.”
Cross grimaced.
“Your house.”
“What?”
“The leak is inside your house.”
“Who?”
Cross reached inside his jacket.
He removed a small brass key.
“Vescari kept one ledger where nobody would search.”
Adriano took it.
“Where?”
Cross whispered an address.
Adriano recognized it.
His own mansion.
“What does this open?”
“Your father’s wine cellar.”
Adriano stared.
“I’ve searched that room.”
“Not the wall.”
That night they returned to Chicago.
The mansion was dark.
Too dark.
Adriano entered first.
No staff.
No guards.
His security system had been disabled from inside.
Luca checked the panel.
“Someone knew the master code.”
They descended into the cellar.
Cross’s key opened a narrow brass plate hidden behind a wine rack.
A section of wall released.
Behind it sat a steel compartment.
Adriano opened it.
Empty.
Except for a phone.
The screen illuminated.
One unread message.
Adriano picked it up.
A video automatically began playing.
Carlo Vescari appeared on screen.
Older.
Smiling.
Alive.
“Hello, Adriano.”
Beatrice’s breath caught.
Vescari leaned toward the camera.
“If you’re watching this, Rachel Carson’s sister finally led you to the wall.”
Adriano’s eyes hardened.
Then Vescari said the next sentence.
“And now I suppose you’d like to know which person standing beside you has worked for me all along.”
May you like
The video froze.
Behind them, the cellar door slowly opened.
