Chapter 3 - Someone Inside the Rossi Family
Dominic read the note twice.
Then he crushed it in his fist.
Beatrice stood beside the open car door.
“Your mother knows something.”
“Everyone knows something.”
“That isn’t what I meant.”
“I know.”
He looked at the ring.
His father’s ring had been stored in a private safe inside Dominic’s penthouse.
Only three people knew the combination.
Dominic.
His mother.
Marco DeLuca.
Nobody else.
Not Anthony.
Not Nico.
Not Sal.
Not even the lawyer who handled the estate.
That changed everything.
“Get in,” Dominic said.
They drove toward Elena Rossi’s townhouse.
Nico and Sal followed in another vehicle.
Beatrice kept the speed high but controlled.
No conversation.
Dominic called his mother again.
No answer.
Again.
Nothing.
His hand tightened around the phone.
Beatrice saw it.
“She’s smart.”
“She’s seventy-one.”
“That doesn’t mean she’s helpless.”
“You don’t know my mother.”
“No. But she raised you.”
Dominic turned toward her.
“What does that mean?”
“It means stubborn probably runs in the family.”
Despite everything, a short laugh escaped him.
Then he looked at her.
Beatrice was smiling faintly.
Dominic had never noticed exactly how much her face changed when she smiled.
He noticed now.
He also noticed she had a small scrape along one forearm from the gate they had crashed through.
“You’re bleeding.”
“It’s nothing.”
“Let me see.”
“I’m driving.”
“That has not stopped you from doing six other things.”
“Dominic.”
He stopped.
Not because she ordered him.
Because hearing his name in her voice did something uncomfortable to his chest.
They reached the townhouse.
Front door open.
One light shattered.
No guard outside.
Dominic exited before the vehicle fully stopped.
Nico ran behind him.
“Boss!”
Dominic entered.
No gunfire.
No voices.
Living room empty.
Kitchen empty.
At the stairs he saw blood.
A few drops.
Then more.
“Ma!”
“Dominic!”
Her voice came from upstairs.
He ran.
Elena Rossi stood inside the bedroom doorway holding an antique fireplace poker.
A man lay unconscious on the hallway carpet.
Dominic stopped.
His mother’s silver hair had come loose from its clip.
Her robe was torn at one shoulder.
But she was standing.
Alive.
“Ma.”
He crossed the hall and hugged her.
Elena held him with one arm.
Then immediately smacked his shoulder.
“Ow.”
“You scared ten years off my life.”
“I scared you?”
“You disappear, people shoot at your car, and strangers come into my home. Yes, you scared me.”
Nico looked at the unconscious intruder.
“Mrs. Rossi, did you do that?”
Elena pointed at the poker.
“He underestimated old women.”
Beatrice entered behind them.
Elena’s attention shifted.
“You must be Beatrice.”
Beatrice froze.
“You know me?”
“My son mentions you.”
Dominic looked at his mother.
“Ma.”
“What?”
Beatrice looked amused despite herself.
Elena took her hand.
“You kept him alive.”
“I drove.”
“You kept him alive.”
Beatrice didn’t argue.
Elena turned serious.
“The man wanted the ring.”
Dominic showed her the velvet box.
Her face went pale.
“Where did you get that?”
“In my car.”
“No.”
“Ma.”
“That was in your safe.”
“I know.”
Elena backed into the bedroom.
Dominic followed.
“What aren’t you telling me?”
She sat.
For the first time, Dominic saw fear in her.
Not fear of the intruder.
Fear of history.
“Your father did not create those rings as symbols.”
Dominic frowned.
“What?”
“They were keys.”
“To what?”
“Not literal keys. Identifiers.”
“For what?”
Elena looked toward Beatrice and the others.
“Dominic, send them out.”
“No.”
His mother stared.
He rarely refused her.
Today he did.
“Whatever this is nearly killed everyone in that car.”
Elena closed her eyes.
“Your father kept records.”
“What records?”
“Payments. Judges. Officials. Union representatives. Police officers. Businesses.”
Nico shifted uneasily.
Dominic’s face remained still.
“Where?”
“That’s the problem.”
Elena looked at the ring.
“He divided the access instructions among six men. Each ring corresponded to part of a sequence.”
Sal whispered, “A ledger.”
Elena nodded.
“Your father called it insurance.”
Dominic felt sick.
“Against whom?”
“Everyone.”
Of course.
His father had trusted nobody.
Not even allies.
“Where is it?”
“I don’t know.”
“You expect me to believe that?”
Elena’s eyes hardened.
“I spent thirty-nine years married to your father. Believing him was rarely my first choice.”
Beatrice almost smiled.
Dominic paced.
“The person who attacked you believes this ring leads to the ledger.”
“Yes.”
“And the person who planted the tracker wore another.”
“Yes.”
“So somebody is collecting the rings.”
Elena nodded.
Nico asked, “How many still exist?”
“Perhaps four.”
“Marco has one,” Dominic said.
Elena looked at him.
“Marco lost his years ago.”
Dominic stopped.
“He wears it every day.”
“Then that is not the original.”
Silence.
Dominic called Marco.
No answer.
Again.
No answer.
A third time.
Nothing.
Dominic looked at Sal.
“Find him.”
Sal started making calls.
Beatrice examined the ring.
“Why would someone put this in your car?”
“To send a message.”
“What message?”
“That they can reach anything I own.”
Beatrice shook her head.
“No.”
Dominic turned.
“No?”
“If that were the message, they could have left a bullet on your pillow or a photograph from inside your apartment.”
Nico frowned.
“She’s right.”
Beatrice held up the ring.
“This isn’t intimidation.”
“What is it?”
“Someone wanted you to have it.”
Dominic stared.
A gift?
No.
A breadcrumb.
“Why?”
“Because they want you looking for the ledger too.”
That possibility chilled him.
Before Dominic could answer, Sal returned.
“We found Marco’s car.”
“Where?”
“Near the river.”
“And Marco?”
“Not there.”
“Phone?”
“Inside the car.”
Dominic immediately knew.
“Trap?”
“Probably.”
Beatrice said, “Then don’t go.”
Nico gave her a look.
“We can’t abandon Marco.”
“I didn’t say abandon him.”
“What are you saying?”
“Stop doing exactly what they expect.”
She turned toward Dominic.
“Who knows Marco best?”
“Me.”
“Wrong.”
He narrowed his eyes.
“His wife.”
Dominic blinked.
Marco had been married to Teresa DeLuca for thirty-two years.
He called her his greatest weakness.
“Call Teresa,” Beatrice said.
Dominic did.
She answered immediately.
“Dominic?”
“Teresa, when did you last speak to Marco?”
“About an hour ago.”
“What did he say?”
“He said he had to correct a mistake.”
Dominic’s stomach tightened.
“What mistake?”
“He wouldn’t tell me.”
“Anything else?”
Teresa hesitated.
“He asked if I remembered Saint Vincent’s.”
Dominic went completely still.
Saint Vincent’s.
An abandoned Catholic school on the west side.
His father had once used the basement for meetings.
Dominic had not been there since he was fifteen.
“Thank you.”
He ended the call.
Beatrice saw his expression.
“You know the place.”
“Yes.”
“Then whoever has Marco probably does too.”
Dominic nodded.
Beatrice looked at Elena.
“Did Dominic’s father ever hide anything there?”
Elena’s face answered before her mouth did.
Dominic noticed.
“Ma.”
She said nothing.
“Ma.”
“Your father kept a safe in the old chapel.”
Nico exhaled.
“There it is.”
Dominic looked at Beatrice.
“You’re staying here.”
She laughed.
“No.”
“That wasn’t a request.”
“Then it was a bad order.”
“You almost died tonight.”
“So did you.”
“This has nothing to do with you.”
Her expression changed.
“My ex-husband called me by name during your ambush.”
Dominic had no answer.
Beatrice stepped closer.
“It has something to do with me.”
He hated that too.
They left Elena under heavy protection.
Dominic made Sal arrange officers he personally trusted to watch the block from a distance.
Then Beatrice drove.
Again.
Saint Vincent’s had been abandoned for thirteen years.
Its windows were boarded.
The stone façade was cracked.
A rusted cross leaned above the chapel entrance.
Dominic, Beatrice, Nico, and Sal entered through the side.
No lights.
They moved by flashlight.
In the chapel basement they found Marco.
Alive.
Tied to a chair.
Blood along one side of his face.
“Marco!”
Dominic rushed forward.
Marco lifted his head.
“Don’t.”
Dominic stopped.
“Don’t what?”
Marco looked toward the far wall.
A wire ran from his chair beneath an old cabinet.
Sal examined it.
“Pressure switch.”
Nico swore.
Beatrice looked around.
“This is staged.”
Dominic turned.
“How do you know?”
“Because they wanted us to find him.”
Marco coughed.
“Dominic.”
“Who did this?”
“I didn’t see.”
“Who?”
“They wore masks.”
“Why did you come here?”
Marco closed his eyes.
“The ring.”
Dominic showed his father’s ring.
Marco’s eyes widened.
“You found it.”
“You knew?”
“I knew someone took it.”
“How?”
Marco looked ashamed.
“Because I opened your safe.”
Nobody moved.
Dominic’s voice dropped.
“You what?”
“Your father made me promise.”
“Promise what?”
“To destroy the ledger if anyone ever started collecting the rings.”
Dominic stepped closer.
“You broke into my home.”
“I was trying to protect you.”
“From what?”
Marco looked at him.
“From finding out who your father really worked for.”
A faint electronic beep interrupted them.
Beatrice looked toward the cabinet.
The wire.
The device.
A digital timer had lit up.
00:30.
Nico swore.
Sal grabbed Marco’s chair.
“Move!”
Beatrice shouted.
“No! Don’t touch him!”
00:24.
Dominic looked at her.
“What?”
“That’s what they want.”
00:20.
Then a phone began ringing inside the cabinet.
Beatrice stared at it.
One number appeared on the screen.
May you like
Her number.
Someone was calling her from inside the wall.
