Chapter 3 - The Man Behind the Money
Leo heard the warning.
He didn't pretend otherwise.
Arthur Jenkins was staring directly at him, his frightened expression unmistakable.
Tessa picked up the black notebook.
It was damp, as though someone had spilled water across its cover. Several pages were torn.
The remaining pages contained shaky handwriting, numbers, and rough sketches.
Arthur had drawn a rectangular building with two emergency exits.
One exit had been crossed out.
Beside it, he had written:
WEST WING. NEVER APPROVED.
Tessa felt her stomach tighten.
“Dad, were you inspecting Hawthorne?”
Arthur nodded.
“Before your stroke?”
Another nod.
Leo stood near the doorway.
“I didn't know your father had any involvement with the property.”
Tessa turned.
“That's becoming a very familiar sentence.”
Leo accepted the accusation.
Arthur suddenly grabbed his daughter's wrist.
He pointed toward Leo again.
Then toward the notebook.
“His... name.”
Tessa turned the page.
A company name had been written across the top.
SANTORO DEVELOPMENT GROUP.
Below it was a signature.
SALVATORE BIANCHI.
Leo's expression hardened.
Salvatore Bianchi had been his father's closest associate.
He was sixty-one, impeccably dressed, and more comfortable in a boardroom than around a gun.
For fifteen years, Sal had handled the Santoro family's legitimate property investments and charitable contracts.
Leo trusted him with financial decisions that rarely received a second glance.
That trust now looked considerably less intelligent.
“Sal manages the foundation's building contracts,” Leo said.
Tessa closed the notebook.
“And my father refused to approve one of them?”
“I don't know.”
“Then we're going to find out.”
Rosa entered with a wheelchair blanket and a folder containing Arthur's current medication list.
“I've called his physician,” she said. “He wants Arthur evaluated tonight. The doctor says he never ordered a transfer.”
Tessa hugged her.
“Thank you.”
Rosa held her tightly.
“Your father kept trying to tell me somebody was changing his records. I thought he meant his therapy schedule.”
She looked toward the notebook.
“I should've listened sooner.”
Tessa shook her head.
“You listened when it mattered.”
Greg appeared in the doorway.
“The police are coming.”
Leo glanced at him.
“Who called them?”
“I did.”
Greg looked nervous but held his ground.
“Someone confined a patient against his will. I'm not leaving that to private security.”
For a moment, Tessa saw the familiar steel enter Leo's face.
Then he nodded.
“Good.”
She looked at him in surprise.
Leo met her eyes.
“If Sal is involved, I want a record that doesn't belong to my family.”
Outside, rain hammered against the windows.
Tessa sat beside Arthur while they waited for the ambulance.
She opened his notebook again.
Several pages listed deficiencies in the western section of Hawthorne.
Fire doors that failed to latch.
An elevator that stopped unpredictably.
A backup generator that hadn't passed inspection.
The final intact page contained a date from fourteen months earlier.
Under it, Arthur had written:
REJECTED. DO NOT OCCUPY.
And beneath that:
Sal offered money. I said no.
Tessa looked toward her father.
“He tried to bribe you?”
Arthur nodded.
Then he touched the right side of his head.
The gesture sent a chill through her.
“Is this connected to your stroke?”
Arthur closed his eyes.
He couldn't answer.
His stroke had occurred two weeks after the inspection.
Tessa had always believed it was a terrible medical event.
She didn't know what to believe now.
By 10:15, Arthur was on his way to a hospital for evaluation. Tessa rode with him while Rosa accompanied them.
Leo arrived separately.
He remained in the waiting room until a physician confirmed Arthur was stable, with no sign of a new stroke.
When Tessa emerged, she found Leo standing by a vending machine.
His sleeves were rolled up.
A paper cup of untouched coffee rested beside him.
“I spoke to my attorney,” he said.
“Congratulations.”
“Tessa.”
She looked at him.
“Don't use that voice.”
“What voice?”
“The one that makes everybody else stop asking questions.”
He exhaled slowly.
“Fair enough.”
She sat across from him.
“Why did you really investigate Greg?”
Leo hesitated.
Then he gave her an answer she hadn't expected.
“Because I was jealous.”
Tessa stared.
“I asked my security chief to check him. That was wrong.”
“Yes, it was.”
“I discovered he had been asking questions about my foundation. At first, I assumed he was looking for something he could sell.”
“So you knew he was investigating Hawthorne.”
“I knew he was investigating the insurance contracts. I didn't know about your father.”
Tessa leaned back.
“You could have told me this afternoon.”
“I should have.”
“Instead, you waited until I put on a dress.”
Leo looked ashamed.
“Yes.”
The simple admission left her with nowhere to direct the anger she had been carrying.
But she wasn't ready to forgive him.
“You frightened me tonight.”
His eyes lifted.
“I know.”
“And you don't get to turn being jealous into some romantic excuse for frightening me.”
“I won't.”
Tessa studied him.
For a moment, she saw the man beneath the expensive shirt and terrible reputation.
Then she remembered Arthur's face.
“I'm going to find out what happened to my father,” she said. “If your family did this, I don't care how powerful you are.”
Leo held her gaze.
“Neither do I.”
His phone vibrated.
He glanced at the screen.
Salvatore Bianchi.
He answered.
“Sal.”
A pause.
Then the older man's voice came through loudly enough for Tessa to hear.
“Leo, we have a problem with the Jenkins woman.”
Leo looked at Tessa.
“What kind of problem?”
Sal's next sentence changed everything.
“Her father kept a copy.”
Leo went perfectly still.
“A copy of what?”
Sal hesitated.
Then the call disconnected.
Tessa rose.
She looked toward the hospital room where her father was sleeping.
“Whatever he kept,” she whispered, “somebody is willing to hurt him to get it.”
Leo put his phone away.
“Then we make sure they never get close enough to try.”
Tessa shook her head.
“No, Leo.”
May you like
She held up the notebook.
“We make sure they never have a reason to try again.”
