Chapter 2 - The Ring in the Glove Box
Nico drew first.
Sal moved second.
Dominic moved last because Dominic Rossi rarely needed to move quickly.
Other people moved for him.
But when the old gym door opened, he stepped directly in front of Beatrice.
An elderly man appeared.
He wore a faded gray sweatshirt and held both hands above his shoulders.
“Easy.”
Beatrice exhaled.
“Uncle Ray?”
Nico kept his weapon raised.
“You know him?”
Ray Clark looked at Nico.
“I changed her diapers, son. Put that thing down before you embarrass yourself.”
Beatrice hurried forward.
“What are you doing here?”
“I could ask you the same thing.”
“My cousin called you?”
“Lena saw you take the van.”
Ray looked past her at Dominic.
Then at Nico and Sal.
His mouth tightened.
“And apparently you brought trouble.”
Dominic extended a hand.
“Dominic Rossi.”
Ray did not take it.
“I know.”
That did not surprise Dominic.
His name was known in neighborhoods where people had never met him.
Sometimes with respect.
Sometimes fear.
Sometimes both.
“Were you followed?” Sal asked.
Ray snorted.
“I spent thirty-one years driving a city bus through neighborhoods where half the streets changed direction during construction season. If somebody followed me, they deserve to find us.”
Beatrice almost smiled.
Dominic noticed.
It was the first softness he had seen in her face since the ambush.
Ray locked the door again.
Then he saw the tracker on the bench.
His expression sharpened.
“What happened?”
Beatrice told him.
Not everything.
Enough.
When she mentioned the voice on the phone, Ray became completely still.
“You recognized it?”
“I think so.”
“Who?”
Beatrice glanced at Dominic.
“Evan.”
Ray’s jaw flexed.
Dominic filed the name away.
“Evan who?”
“Evan Mercer.”
“Relationship?”
Beatrice hesitated.
“My ex-husband.”
Nico’s eyebrows rose.
Dominic said nothing.
Something cold moved through him.
“Where is he?”
“I don’t know.”
“That’s not useful.”
“I divorced him four years ago.”
“Why?”
Beatrice gave him a look that warned him not to push.
Dominic pushed anyway.
“Why?”
“Because he liked gambling more than marriage.”
Ray laughed without humor.
“That’s the polite version.”
Beatrice’s eyes stayed on Dominic.
“He borrowed money from people he shouldn’t have.”
“What people?”
She looked away.
Ray answered.
“People connected to the Venturi crew.”
Sal swore under his breath.
Dominic’s face became unreadable.
The Venturis had been enemies of the Rossis for years.
Not open enemies.
Open war was bad for business.
But territory disputes, union interference, political pressure, and stolen contracts had created a permanent line between the families.
“You never told me that,” Dominic said.
“You never asked about my divorce.”
“You applied to work directly for me.”
“I passed the background check.”
Nico laughed.
“Apparently not.”
Beatrice turned.
“What exactly are you suggesting?”
“I’m suggesting your ex works with our enemies and suddenly someone knows our route.”
Dominic looked at Nico.
“Enough.”
“Boss—”
“I said enough.”
Nico fell silent.
Dominic turned back to Beatrice.
“Does Evan know where your uncle lives?”
“Yes.”
“This gym?”
“He came here.”
“When?”
“Years ago.”
Dominic looked toward the door.
“So this location is burned.”
Ray frowned.
“You think he sent someone?”
“I think we stop assuming anything.”
Dominic’s phone vibrated again.
This time it was Marco DeLuca.
Dominic answered.
“Talk.”
“Where are you?”
“Safe.”
“Thank God. We heard.”
“Heard what?”
“Police chatter. Vehicle collision near the warehouse.”
Dominic’s eyes narrowed.
“How did you know which warehouse?”
Silence.
Only half a second.
But Dominic heard it.
“So did everyone,” Marco replied.
“No.”
“Dominic—”
“Where is my mother?”
“At home. Anthony sent two men.”
Dominic’s jaw tightened.
He had not ordered Anthony to send anyone.
“Get them out.”
“What?”
“Get Anthony’s men away from my mother.”
“Why?”
“Because I said so.”
Marco lowered his voice.
“Dominic, what is happening?”
“I’ll call you.”
He ended the conversation.
Sal approached.
“Marco sounded normal.”
“Marco always sounds normal.”
Nico asked, “You think it’s him?”
“I think I don’t know.”
Beatrice stood beside the old ring.
“Whoever arranged the ambush knew more than a location.”
Dominic looked at her.
“They knew your habits.”
“What habits?”
“That you would ride in front.”
He frowned.
“My drivers usually—”
“Your previous drivers all kept you in the rear seat.”
Dominic realized she was right.
Beatrice continued.
“You started sitting up front after I came.”
“Because I prefer talking without shouting.”
“Exactly.”
Sal’s eyes narrowed.
“So they knew where he would be sitting.”
Nico’s expression darkened.
Beatrice nodded.
“And they knew I was driving.”
“How?”
“Because the truck blocked the route I would normally choose if I saw pursuit.”
Dominic stared.
“You think they studied you.”
“They knew enough to try forcing me east.”
Ray folded his arms.
“Evan used to complain she remembered every street she drove once.”
Dominic looked at Beatrice.
“Photographic memory?”
“No.”
“Then what?”
“I pay attention.”
Dominic almost laughed.
The simplest explanation.
The rarest habit.
Ray went to an old cabinet and removed a steel lockbox.
“There’s a basement exit through the old boiler room.”
Sal nodded.
“Use it.”
“Where will we go?” Nico asked.
Dominic considered.
Then Beatrice said, “Your garage.”
Everyone looked at her.
“The tower garage?”
“Yes.”
Nico stared.
“That is where they planted the tracker.”
“Exactly.”
“Have you lost your mind?”
“If they think we discovered an insider, the first thing they’ll do is clean up.”
Dominic understood.
“You want to catch whoever removes the evidence.”
Beatrice nodded.
“For once, Mr. Rossi is listening.”
Nico muttered something in Italian.
Dominic ignored him.
They left through the basement.
Ray stayed behind.
Beatrice hugged him before leaving.
Dominic watched the old man whisper something in her ear.
He could not hear the words.
But Beatrice’s face tightened.
Twenty minutes later they entered Rossi Tower through a loading dock used by janitorial crews.
Dominic knew the building better than anyone.
Or believed he did.
Beatrice led them through two maintenance corridors he had never seen.
At the underground garage they stopped behind a concrete wall overlooking Dominic’s private parking bay.
The Mercedes was gone, abandoned across town.
But security footage from the bay would show who had approached it.
If the footage still existed.
Sal accessed the security terminal.
“Camera eleven.”
Black screen.
“Dead.”
“Camera twelve.”
Black.
“Thirteen?”
Working.
But pointed toward another row.
Nico swore.
“Convenient.”
Beatrice stepped closer.
“Go back.”
Sal rewound footage.
At 6:47 p.m., a man in a maintenance uniform crossed the corner of the frame.
Only his shoulder and right hand were visible.
“Stop.”
Beatrice leaned closer.
Dominic saw nothing unusual.
She did.
“Zoom on his hand.”
Sal enlarged the image.
A ring.
Gold.
Heavy.
A black stone in the center.
Dominic stopped breathing.
Nico whispered, “Boss…”
Dominic knew that ring.
Every senior man in his father’s original organization had received one twenty-five years ago.
Six rings had existed.
Dominic’s father had worn one until the day he died.
Marco DeLuca still wore another.
Dominic owned his father’s ring.
He kept it locked away.
Anthony’s father had possessed a fourth.
The remaining two had belonged to men long dead.
“Could be a copy,” Sal said.
Dominic’s voice was quiet.
“No.”
“How can you know?”
“Inside the black stone is a hairline gold cross. My grandfather had them custom made.”
The camera image was blurry.
But the mark was there.
Beatrice watched Dominic.
“What does it mean?”
“It means whoever placed that tracker wasn’t hired muscle.”
Nico swallowed.
“It was family.”
Dominic’s phone rang again.
His mother.
He answered instantly.
“Ma?”
“Dominic?”
Her voice shook.
He stood straighter.
“What happened?”
“There’s a man here.”
“Who?”
“He said you sent him.”
“I didn’t.”
“I know.”
Dominic’s blood turned cold.
“Where are you?”
“In the upstairs bedroom. The door is locked.”
“Stay there.”
“He keeps asking me for something.”
“What?”
She hesitated.
“Your father’s ring.”
Dominic looked at the frozen garage footage.
The matching black stone stared back at him.
“Ma, listen carefully. Do not open that door.”
A crash sounded through the phone.
His mother gasped.
Then the line went dead.
Dominic was already moving.
Beatrice grabbed his arm.
This time he did not object.
“I’m driving.”
They reached the Mercedes replacement car in thirty seconds.
As Beatrice opened the driver’s door, Dominic opened the glove compartment to retrieve a spare phone.
Instead, something rolled forward.
A small velvet box.
He stared.
“That wasn’t there before.”
Beatrice looked at him.
Dominic opened it.
Inside lay his father’s missing gold ring.
The same black stone.
The same tiny cross.
And beneath it was a folded strip of paper.
Dominic unfolded the message.
May you like
Three words had been written inside.
ASK YOUR MOTHER.
