Chapter 4 - The Secret Beneath Blackwood
Rachel Dunn arrived in an unmarked SUV with two federal agents and the expression of a woman who hated surprises.
She looked at Leo’s wound.
“You need a hospital.”
“I need my father.”
“You need antibiotics.”
“My father first.”
Rachel looked at me.
“Is he always this difficult?”
“I’ve known him six hours.”
“And?”
“Yes.”
Leo glared at both of us.
Sophie was moved from St. Anne’s to a protected medical floor under another name. I did not agree to leave until I saw her.
She looked tiny beneath the blankets.
When I hugged her, she whispered, “You smell like mud.”
I laughed and cried at the same time.
“You almost got kidnapped and that’s your observation?”
“You look worse than me.”
“Thanks.”
She squeezed my hand.
“Leora.”
“What?”
“Don’t die for those people.”
I looked through the glass toward Leo, who stood in the hall arguing with Rachel while a medic replaced his bandage.
“I’m not.”
Sophie followed my gaze.
“Oh.”
“What?”
“Nothing.”
“Sophie.”
“You look at him weird.”
“I absolutely do not.”
“You do.”
“Get some sleep.”
She smiled.
I kissed her forehead and left before she could say anything worse.
By noon, we had a plan.
It was terrible.
Rachel told us so repeatedly.
Blackwood’s old chapel stood twenty yards from the main house. According to Leo, there was a service tunnel from the wine cellar that had been sealed years ago.
According to my father’s letter, it was not sealed.
The entrance was behind a stone panel marked with a carved cross.
We reached the estate through the north woods.
Snow covered the ground now, muting every sound.
Black SUVs still filled the driveway.
Samuel’s men had taken over the property.
Rachel’s team watched from outside the perimeter.
“Once you enter that tunnel,” she said, “my people cannot see you.”
Leo checked his weapon.
“That’s why Samuel can’t see us either.”
Rachel grabbed his arm.
“You are not a soldier.”
“No.”
“You are also not bulletproof.”
“I’ve gathered that.”
Her eyes moved toward me.
“You stay behind him.”
“No.”
Leo and Rachel both said, “Yes.”
I shook my head.
“My father hid the key. I’m opening the archive.”
Leo looked annoyed.
Rachel looked exhausted.
“Fine. But if shooting starts, you get down.”
“Gladly.”
The tunnel smelled like stone and mold.
Leo moved ahead.
Marco followed.
I carried the key inside my coat.
When we reached the chapel, we found box seventeen behind a hidden iron panel.
The brass key turned.
Inside were ledgers.
Photographs.
Bank records.
And a small silver recorder.
Leo lifted a photograph.
Samuel Reed stood beside a younger Vittorio.
Beside them was a man I did not recognize.
Marco did.
“Raymond Vale.”
“Who?”
“Your uncle.”
Leo’s face went still.
“My mother’s brother.”
I remembered Julia’s recording.
R. Vale.
Leo opened the next folder.
Payments from Moretti accounts to Vale Consulting.
Millions of dollars.
The transactions began sixteen years ago.
Two months before Julia died.
Leo whispered, “My uncle paid Samuel.”
Marco frowned.
“For what?”
I picked up another document.
An accident report.
Julia Moretti.
Vehicle recovered from river.
Brake line failure ruled mechanical defect.
Attached was a handwritten note.
S.R. confirmed issue resolved.
Leo sat down hard.
I moved toward him.
He lifted one hand.
Not because he wanted me away.
Because he needed a second to remain standing inside himself.
“My uncle killed her.”
“We don’t know that yet.”
“He paid Samuel. Her brake line failed. Samuel wrote issue resolved.”
His voice cracked.
“Leora, how much more proof do I need?”
Before I could answer, lights flooded the chapel.
Samuel’s voice came from behind us.
“Enough.”
We turned.
He stood in the doorway.
Three armed men behind him.
Vittorio was with them.
His hands were tied.
Blood marked his temple.
Leo raised his gun.
Samuel pressed his weapon against Vittorio’s neck.
“Put it down.”
“Let him go.”
“Gun.”
Leo slowly lowered it.
Samuel smiled at me.
“Daniel’s daughter.”
I hated the way he said it.
“You ruined my father’s life.”
“No. Your father ruined his own life by confusing loyalty with morality.”
“He found out you were a traitor.”
“He found out I understood the future.”
Leo said, “You murdered my mother.”
Samuel’s smile disappeared.
“Your mother was supposed to stop asking questions.”
Vittorio closed his eyes.
Leo stared at him.
“You knew?”
His father said nothing.
“Dad.”
“I suspected.”
The word shattered something.
Leo lowered his head.
“You suspected?”
“I had no proof.”
“You had Mom.”
Samuel laughed.
“Families. Always so dramatic.”
He looked at me.
“Give me the key.”
“You’re looking at the box. Why do you need it?”
“Because box seventeen isn’t the only box Daniel locked.”
My heart sank.
“What else is there?”
Samuel smiled.
“Ask your father.”
My father was dead.
Samuel knew that.
Then I remembered the last line of Dad’s letter.
If Samuel ever finds box seventeen, he will believe he has won. Let him.
I slowly reached into my coat.
Leo looked at me.
I took out the key.
Samuel extended his hand.
I tossed it.
He caught it.
Then smiled.
“Good girl.”
I smiled back.
“Wrong key.”
His face changed.
Behind us, the chapel bell suddenly rang.
Once.
Twice.
Three times.
Rachel’s signal.
Samuel’s men turned.
Leo moved instantly.
He hit the nearest man before I even saw him cross the room.
Marco drove another guard into the wall.
Vittorio dropped to the floor.
I ran.
Gunfire cracked through the chapel.
Stone exploded beside my head.
I dove behind a pew.
Federal agents entered from the tunnel and front doors simultaneously.
Samuel disappeared through the side sacristy.
Leo tried to follow.
I grabbed his coat.
“No.”
“He’s getting away.”
“You’re bleeding again.”
“My father—”
“Is alive.”
He looked at Vittorio.
His father sat on the floor while Rachel cut his restraints.
Their eyes met.
Neither spoke.
Then Vittorio whispered, “Leo.”
Leo’s expression was colder than anything I had seen all night.
“You knew Mom was afraid.”
“I was wrong.”
“No.”
Leo shook his head.
“You were powerful.”
He looked toward the door Samuel had escaped through.
“And you chose to be comfortable instead of brave.”
Vittorio said nothing.
Leo turned away.
Then an explosion shook the main house.
Windows burst outward.
Marco swore.
Smoke rose above Blackwood.
Samuel had not just escaped.
May you like
He had set the estate on fire.
And somewhere inside that burning house were thirty years of secrets people had killed to protect.
