Chapter 4 - A Traitor Behind the Locked Door
Dominic traced the call.
It came from Chicago.
My mother had never gone to Arizona.
At least not recently.
The house there belonged to a friend.
Her car had been staged.
Her retirement had been staged.
Maybe half the life I thought my mother lived had been staged.
The call originated from an abandoned Hawthorne property on West Fulton.
Dominic wanted to wait.
I did not.
“If the man with her heard her call us, we don’t have time.”
“It could be bait.”
“It probably is.”
“And your response to bait is to bite it?”
“My response is that my mother is there.”
He stared at me.
I stared back.
Luca said, “She’s going either way.”
Dominic turned toward him.
“You’re helping.”
“I’m acknowledging reality.”
Gabriel nodded.
“She climbed through a ventilation shaft under gunfire.”
“Thank you,” I said.
“That wasn’t praise.”
Still.
Dominic finally agreed.
But we would not enter through the obvious route.
The Fulton property was a half-finished luxury hotel abandoned after Hawthorne declared bankruptcy.
According to city plans, an underground service tunnel connected it to an old freight building.
We entered there.
It was cold underground.
Concrete walls.
Exposed piping.
Dominic walked ahead of me.
For someone supposedly surrounded by men willing to die for him, he consistently placed himself closest to danger.
I noticed.
I wished I had not.
Because noticing things about Dominic Vale was becoming a problem.
His laugh.
The way he touched Matteo’s photograph.
The way he never lied about danger.
The way he said my name when angry.
None of those were useful details.
We reached a steel door.
Gabriel disabled the lock.
Inside, voices.
My mother’s.
A man’s.
Dominic signaled.
Three.
Two.
One.
The door opened.
Chaos.
One guard went down.
Another fled.
Luca chased him.
Dominic moved toward the center room.
I saw my mother tied to a chair.
Alive.
“Susan!”
Her head snapped up.
“Emma!”
A man stood behind her.
Gray hair.
Tailored suit.
Calm expression.
He held no weapon.
He did not need one.
Dominic stopped.
“Uncle Richard.”
Richard Vale smiled.
“There you are.”
I finally understood why people feared the Vale family.
The danger did not look like screaming.
It looked like men who spoke softly because everybody listened.
Richard glanced at me.
“Jonathan’s daughter.”
“Let my mother go.”
He smiled.
“You have his eyes.”
“I’d rather have his accountant.”
Dominic almost looked at me.
Richard laughed.
“Sharp too.”
“Untie her.”
“You walked into my building with the key I need. Why would I surrender leverage?”
Dominic stepped forward.
“You don’t have leverage over me.”
Richard’s gaze shifted toward him.
“Everything has always been leverage over you, Dominic. Matteo. Your mother. Your guilt.”
Dominic’s jaw tightened.
Richard noticed.
“So predictable.”
My mother cried out, “Don’t give him anything.”
Richard leaned close to her.
“Susan, you were always braver than Jonathan.”
My mother spat in his face.
I had never loved her more.
Richard wiped his cheek.
“Charming.”
Dominic said, “You killed Matteo.”
“Yes.”
The admission came so easily that the room seemed to shrink.
Dominic’s face went blank.
Richard continued.
“He was becoming inconvenient.”
Nine years of grief reduced to one sentence.
I watched Dominic absorb it.
His hand remained steady.
“How?”
“Does it matter?”
“Yes.”
Richard sighed.
“I ordered the device placed in his car.”
My mother closed her eyes.
Dominic whispered, “And Jonathan?”
“Commissioner Mercer handled him.”
“So Mercer is still involved.”
“Very.”
Richard’s smile returned.
“He’s actually upstairs.”
That was when we understood.
We had not surprised Richard.
We had entered exactly where he wanted us.
Lights flooded the unfinished lobby above.
Boots moved on staircases.
Many.
Gabriel said quietly, “We have company.”
Richard looked pleased.
“You should have stayed at your mansion, nephew.”
Dominic smiled without humor.
“You should have left Chicago.”
Gunfire erupted.
Dominic pulled me behind a concrete column.
My mother kicked Richard’s knee.
He stumbled.
Gabriel shot the rope around one chair leg while I crawled toward her.
“Mom!”
“Stay down!”
Somewhere above us, men shouted.
Luca returned from the corridor.
“Back tunnel compromised.”
“Roof?” Dominic asked.
“Possible.”
“We move.”
I reached my mother.
Her wrists were tied.
I cut them with a piece of broken metal.
Richard had disappeared.
We climbed.
The unfinished hotel became a maze of drywall frames and exposed beams.
Shots chased us upward.
On the sixth floor, we found a temporary construction bridge connecting to the next building.
Wind whipped between towers.
My mother froze.
“I can’t.”
“Yes, you can,” I said.
The bridge was two planks and a handrail.
Dominic crossed first.
Then he came back halfway.
“Look at me, Susan.”
My mother did.
“Not down. Me.”
She stepped forward.
Slowly.
Reached him.
Crossed.
I followed.
Halfway across, a shot cracked.
Wood splintered near my hand.
Dominic turned.
“Emma!”
I ran.
He caught me by the wrist and pulled me onto the opposite roof.
For one second, I fell against him.
His arms closed around me.
Everything disappeared except his heartbeat.
Then Luca shouted, “Romance later.”
We separated.
“I hate him,” Dominic muttered.
“No, you don’t.”
“No. Unfortunately.”
We escaped through a parking garage.
By dawn, we were back at Matteo’s townhouse.
My mother sat at the table with tea.
She looked twenty years older than the last time I saw her.
I sat opposite her.
“No more secrets.”
She nodded.
“Your father and I were both helping Matteo.”
My entire childhood tilted.
“Doing what?”
“Your father traced financial records. I copied property files from Hawthorne.”
“You worked there?”
“Records department.”
I had known my mother as a school secretary.
Before that, apparently, she had been something else.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Because after Jonathan died, Richard told me he would kill you if I kept digging.”
I understood.
I hated it.
But I understood.
“What was beneath the Hawthorne property?”
My mother looked at Dominic.
“A records vault.”
“For what?”
“Not money.”
She took a breath.
“Evidence.”
Richard and Commissioner Mercer had spent years collecting evidence against everyone they bribed.
Judges.
Police.
Politicians.
Business owners.
Blackmail.
If anyone resisted, Richard threatened to expose them.
The vault was insurance.
Matteo found it.
“He wanted to turn everything over to federal investigators,” my mother said.
Dominic looked down.
“He never told me.”
“He thought you’d protect the family.”
The words cut.
My mother continued.
“Jonathan moved the master index before he died.”
“Into deposit box 224,” I said.
“Yes.”
“What does it contain?”
“The location codes for the vault and the names of every person compromised.”
Dominic stood near the window.
“If Mercer gets that list, he can erase everyone who might testify.”
“And if we get it?”
“We end them.”
My mother shook her head.
“It isn’t that simple.”
“Why?”
“Because one of the names on the list belongs to someone still inside Dominic’s organization.”
The room went silent.
Luca looked at Gabriel.
Gabriel looked at Dominic.
“Who?” Dominic asked.
My mother hesitated.
“I never saw the full list.”
“But Jonathan told you?”
“He told me enough.”
She looked at Luca.
Then Gabriel.
Then Dominic.
“He said the traitor was present the night Matteo died.”
Luca’s face changed.
“I was there.”
Gabriel said, “So was I.”
Dominic looked at both men.
Nine years of loyalty suddenly became evidence.
My mother continued.
“The traitor gave Richard Matteo’s route.”
Luca stepped forward.
“I did not.”
Gabriel’s expression remained unreadable.
Dominic said nothing.
Then a phone rang.
Not mine.
Not Dominic’s.
Gabriel’s.
He looked at the screen.
Unknown caller.
Dominic held out his hand.
“Give it to me.”
Gabriel did.
Dominic answered.
A distorted voice said:
“You brought Susan Carter home. Good.”
Dominic scanned the room.
The caller continued.
“The traitor is closer than you think.”
Then the townhouse alarm beeped.
Once.
A door downstairs had opened.
Luca drew his weapon.
Gabriel did the same.
Dominic pushed me and my mother behind the wall.
Footsteps crossed the first floor.
Slow.
Unhurried.
Someone began climbing the stairs.
Then my mother looked at Dominic and whispered:
“That’s the same way Matteo used to knock.”
Three knocks sounded from the other side of the bedroom door.
May you like
And a voice said:
“Dom? Open up.”
