Chapter 4 - A DEAD WOMAN’S WARNING
They found the broken zip ties under the kitchen table.
They found blood on the back steps.
They found a dead guard beside an unlocked service gate.
But Javier was gone.
Dante stood over the body.
“Who opened the gate?”
Luca shook his head.
“Camera system went down with the power.”
“Convenient.”
Luca looked ashamed.
“I’ll find out.”
“You better.”
Marco approached.
“Leo’s asking for you.”
Dante went upstairs.
The boy sat on the floor inside the safe room with a blanket around his shoulders.
The recorder was in his lap.
Dante crouched.
“You hurt?”
“No.”
“Tell me the truth.”
“My neck hurts a little.”
“I’m calling Doctor Reese.”
“I don’t need a doctor.”
“You’re getting one.”
Leo nodded.
Dante sat beside him.
For a minute, neither spoke.
Then Leo asked, “Grandpa tried to kill us?”
Dante stared ahead.
“I don’t know.”
“The guy downstairs said—”
“I heard him.”
“Then why don’t you know?”
Dante almost smiled.
There it was again.
Elena.
Never accepting the easy answer.
“Because people lie when they’re afraid.”
Leo looked down at the recorder.
“Mom didn’t.”
“No.”
“Can we hear the rest?”
Dante didn’t want to.
That was exactly why he pressed PLAY.
Elena’s voice returned.
“If Salvatore learns I copied the ledgers, I don’t know what he’ll do.”
Dante closed his eyes.
“I thought he loved me,” she continued. “Maybe he does. Maybe men like him just love power more.”
Marco stood in the doorway listening.
“I told Marco to stay quiet. I’m sorry for that. He wanted to tell you, Dante, but I made him promise to give me forty-eight hours. I thought I could collect enough evidence that your father would have no choice but to walk away.”
Marco looked at Dante.
“I tried to call you the next morning.”
Dante remembered.
He had been in Chicago.
A labor dispute.
A construction deal.
A hundred meaningless things he had believed were important.
Elena continued.
“The ledgers are safe. Not in the house. Not in the office. Somewhere Salvatore would never think to search.”
A noise sounded in the old recording.
Elena lowered her voice.
“If anything happens to me, remember where Leo keeps the stars.”
The file ended.
Dante stared at the recorder.
Leo blinked.
“My stars?”
Marco looked puzzled.
“What does that mean?”
Leo stood.
“I know.”
Dante turned.
“What?”
“The treehouse.”
Leo hurried toward the door.
“Mom painted stars on the ceiling.”
Dante followed.
The treehouse stood at the far edge of the property beneath an old maple.
Elena had designed it herself.
A tiny wooden fort with blue shutters and glow-in-the-dark stars across the ceiling.
Dante hadn’t been inside since she died.
Leo climbed first.
Dante followed.
Marco waited below with two armed men.
Inside, Leo pointed upward.
“She used to tell me to pick a star before bed.”
Dante ran his fingers across the wooden ceiling.
Nothing.
He checked every panel.
Then Leo pointed toward one star near the corner.
“That one’s different.”
Dante touched it.
Plastic.
Thicker than the others.
He pulled.
A small section of wood opened.
Inside was an empty space.
No ledger.
No money.
No papers.
Only an envelope.
Dante opened it.
One sentence was written in Javier’s handwriting.
YOU’RE TWO YEARS TOO LATE.
Behind Dante, Leo whispered, “Dad.”
“What?”
“There’s something else.”
He reached into the compartment and pulled out a photograph.
Dante took it.
Elena was in the picture.
She was standing beside Javier.
And Salvatore.
The photo had been taken the night before the crash.
May you like
On the back, Elena had written four words.
IF I DIE, HE KNOWS.
