Chapter 4 - Tape Number Seven
Emma’s mother had been dead for nine years.
Yet her voice filled the basement as clearly as if she stood three feet away.
“Matteo Bellandi can never know what we did to his sister.”
Emma could not breathe.
Matteo stood perfectly still.
Luca looked at Emma.
Detective Ortiz watched everyone.
Then the recording continued.
“If Enzo finds out Sofia survived, he will finish what he started.”
Matteo’s head snapped toward the recorder.
Emma closed her eyes.
Her mother’s voice continued.
“Teresa believes Matteo is different. I hope she’s right. But he’s nineteen. He still worships his father. We cannot risk Sofia’s life on hope.”
Another woman spoke.
Teresa.
“We move Sofia tonight.”
“And the baby?”
“With her.”
“What about the money?”
A pause.
Emma’s stomach twisted.
Then her mother answered.
“Enzo will think he bought my silence.”
Matteo looked at Emma.
She opened her eyes.
The two-million-dollar payment suddenly made sense.
Her mother had not been paid to betray Sofia.
She had taken money from Enzo Bellandi while helping Sofia escape.
The tape continued.
“He’ll never know I used every dollar to create new identities.”
Teresa laughed softly.
“Margaret Harper, you are either very brave or very foolish.”
“Probably both.”
Emma covered her mouth.
She had not heard her mother laugh in almost a decade.
Now she stood in a cold basement surrounded by armed men, listening to a dead woman confess to saving another woman from Matteo’s own father.
The recording crackled.
Sofia’s voice appeared next.
Weak.
Young.
Terrified.
“If Matteo asks about me someday, tell him I loved him.”
Matteo turned away.
Nobody spoke.
“Tell him I wanted to call.”
A long pause.
“But if Matteo knows I’m alive, Father will use him to find me.”
Matteo’s shoulders tightened.
“He won’t mean to. That’s what makes it worse.”
The tape clicked off.
For several seconds, nobody moved.
Emma looked at Matteo.
His face remained turned away.
She suddenly understood something about him.
All the control.
All the stillness.
It was not because he felt less than other people.
It was because he had spent his life feeling too much and showing none of it.
“Matteo,” Emma said.
He looked at her.
“I’m sorry.”
“For what?”
“For what your father did.”
His expression hardened.
“You didn’t do it.”
“My mother knew.”
“And she saved Sofia.”
“She also never told me.”
“She was protecting you.”
Emma stared at the recorder.
“I spent nine years thinking I knew everything about her.”
“So did I.”
Their eyes met.
For one brief second, they were not strangers.
Not singer and crime boss.
Just two people learning their parents had lied for reasons they might never fully understand.
Then Ortiz broke the silence.
“We need every tape cataloged.”
Matteo picked up Tape 1.
“We need to find Adrian.”
Ortiz nodded.
“If Milo’s identification is correct, Adrian Mercer is Sofia’s son.”
“His real name would be Luca Bellandi.”
Luca Romano looked up.
Matteo added, “My sister named him after our grandfather.”
Milo sat beside Emma, holding the silver dinosaur.
“Daddy says his name is Adrian.”
Matteo crouched.
“That’s okay.”
“Are you his brother?”
Matteo’s eyes softened.
“No. I’m his uncle.”
Milo thought.
“So you’re my great-uncle?”
Luca Romano smiled.
“That makes him sound old.”
Matteo gave him a look.
For the first time all day, Milo giggled.
The sound changed the room.
Even Emma smiled.
But Ortiz remained focused.
“Victor knows we found this place. Assume everything here is compromised.”
“How do we find Adrian?” Emma asked.
“Rebecca Vale may know.”
“The woman pretending to be Sofia.”
Ortiz nodded.
“She might not be pretending for malicious reasons.”
Matteo looked at Milo.
The boy clearly trusted Rebecca.
Emma understood.
“Maybe Sofia told her to use her name.”
“Why?” Luca asked.
“To keep the real Sofia hidden.”
Matteo’s phone vibrated again.
Unknown number.
This time the message contained an address.
No text.
Luca checked it.
“South Deering.”
Emma looked at Milo.
“Near Calumet.”
Ortiz immediately called it in.
Forty minutes later, police surrounded a blue house near old industrial rail lines.
Milo recognized it from the car.
“That’s the house.”
Emma stayed in the vehicle with him.
Matteo refused to remain behind.
Ortiz threatened to arrest him if he interfered.
He promised nothing.
Police entered.
Three minutes passed.
Five.
Then Ortiz emerged.
Her expression told Emma immediately.
The house was empty.
Inside, they found children’s clothes.
Food.
Medication.
Photographs.
And blood.
Not much.
But enough.
Milo refused to enter.
Emma did not make him.
Matteo returned to the car.
“They found something.”
“What?”
“A phone.”
“Rebecca’s?”
“Probably.”
“And?”
“One outgoing call this morning.”
“To whom?”
Matteo looked toward the house.
“Victor.”
Emma’s heart sank.
“So Rebecca works for him?”
“Or she called him because she had no choice.”
“How do we know?”
“We don’t.”
A police officer approached.
“Detective needs you.”
Matteo glanced at Emma.
“Stay with Milo.”
“I wasn’t planning to do anything else.”
He walked away.
Milo watched him.
“He’s scary.”
Emma smiled faintly.
“A little.”
“Is he bad?”
Emma did not answer immediately.
She looked through the windshield at Matteo standing among police officers.
Chicago had called men like him dangerous for years.
Maybe accurately.
But the man she had watched kneel beside a frightened boy did not fit neatly inside a headline.
“I think he’s complicated,” she said.
Milo frowned.
“What’s complicated?”
“It means I don’t know yet.”
That evening, Ortiz arranged temporary protective custody for Milo.
He refused to leave Emma.
Social services objected.
Matteo made three phone calls.
Emma did not ask what he said.
Within an hour, an emergency arrangement allowed Emma to remain with Milo at a secure location while a caseworker stayed nearby.
The secure location turned out to be Matteo’s lakefront penthouse.
Emma stared at him.
“This is your idea of neutral?”
“It has private security.”
“It also has you.”
“Yes.”
“That was my point.”
“Your apartment was entered.”
“By someone who may have followed you.”
“Exactly.”
Emma crossed her arms.
“So your solution is to bring me into your home?”
“My solution is to keep Milo alive.”
That ended the argument.
The penthouse occupied the top two floors of a discreet building overlooking Lake Michigan.
Milo fell asleep on a sofa within twenty minutes.
Emma sat nearby.
Matteo stood at the window.
“You still haven’t explained Victor.”
He poured water.
Not whiskey.
She noticed.
“My mother’s brother.”
“Was he close to your father?”
“Too close.”
“You think he helped your father hunt Sofia?”
“I think Victor helped create the problem that made Sofia run.”
“What problem?”
Matteo hesitated.
“Adrian’s father.”
Emma waited.
“Who was he?”
“A man my father hated.”
“Why?”
“He wasn’t Italian. He wasn’t connected. He was a prosecutor’s son.”
Emma blinked.
“Sofia had a child with the son of a prosecutor?”
“Yes.”
“And your father found out.”
“Yes.”
“What happened to him?”
“Car accident.”
Emma watched his face.
“You don’t believe it was an accident.”
“No.”
“Did Victor arrange it?”
“I never proved it.”
Emma looked at Milo sleeping.
“Then Sofia discovered she was pregnant.”
“And ran.”
Matteo nodded.
Silence.
Then Emma asked the question that had been bothering her since the museum.
“Why did you tell your bodyguard to find everything about me?”
His expression changed.
“You heard that?”
“No. I saw his reaction when you whispered.”
Matteo almost smiled.
“I wanted to know why a stranger was singing my mother’s song.”
“You could have asked.”
“I did.”
“After ordering a background check.”
“Yes.”
“That is deeply unsettling.”
“I’ve been told.”
Emma stared.
He added, “For what it’s worth, we found nothing alarming.”
“Wonderful. I’m thrilled your criminal investigation approved of me.”
“Private investigation.”
“Not better.”
A genuine smile appeared.
Small.
Unexpected.
Emma hated that it made him look younger.
Then Luca entered.
The smile vanished.
“We found Rebecca.”
“Where?”
“Northwestern Memorial.”
Emma stood.
“Is she hurt?”
“Gunshot wound.”
“Alive?”
“For now.”
Matteo grabbed his coat.
Emma glanced at sleeping Milo.
“I’m coming.”
“No.”
“She knows why my mother was involved.”
“She may also be the reason Adrian disappeared.”
“That makes me more likely to come.”
Matteo stared at her.
“You always argue?”
“When people tell me what I’m allowed to do.”
“Get your coat.”
Twenty minutes later, they entered the hospital through a private entrance.
Ortiz was already there.
Rebecca Vale lay behind glass under police guard.
“She asked for Emma,” Ortiz said.
Emma stopped.
“Me?”
“She said only you.”
Matteo’s eyes narrowed.
Emma entered alone.
Rebecca looked nothing like the mysterious figure from the museum now.
She looked exhausted.
Pale.
Fragile.
A bandage covered her shoulder.
Emma approached.
“You know me.”
Rebecca smiled weakly.
“Your mother had your eyes.”
Emma’s throat tightened.
“You knew her?”
“I knew all of them.”
“Where is Sofia?”
Rebecca’s smile vanished.
“You need to ask a better question.”
“Where is Adrian?”
Fear entered Rebecca’s face.
“Victor has him.”
“Why?”
“Because Adrian found what Sofia hid.”
“What did she hide?”
Rebecca reached weakly for Emma’s hand.
“Evidence.”
“Of what?”
“Everything.”
“What does that mean?”
Rebecca’s gaze shifted toward the door where Matteo waited beyond the glass.
“Matteo thinks his father built the Bellandi empire.”
Emma nodded.
Rebecca whispered:
“He didn’t.”
“Who did?”
Rebecca tightened her grip.
“Sofia.”
Emma stared.
“That makes no sense.”
“It will.”
Rebecca swallowed painfully.
“Tell Matteo the empire he inherited belongs to his sister.”
Emma leaned closer.
“Why did Sofia send Milo to me?”
Rebecca’s eyes filled.
“Because your mother made her promise.”
“Promise what?”
“That if the Bellandi family ever came for Adrian again, Sofia would trust only one person.”
Emma stopped breathing.
“Me?”
Rebecca nodded.
Then alarms sounded outside.
Ortiz shouted.
Luca moved toward the corridor.
Matteo turned.
A nurse ran past.
Rebecca’s eyes widened with terror.
“They found me.”
Emma looked toward the door.
“Who?”
Rebecca whispered one word.
“Victor.”
The lights went out.
Emergency lamps flashed red.
A gunshot cracked from the hallway.
Emma turned toward the door.
May you like
The handle moved.
Someone was coming in.
