Chapter 4 - The Church Beneath Beacon HillMy father hated churches.
That was the first problem.
The second was that he owned one.
St. Gabriel’s had been closed for sixteen years after a fire damaged its roof.
My father quietly bought the property through a shell corporation and never renovated it.
At the time I assumed he wanted the land.
Now I knew better.
Roman drove.
I sat in the back with Elias Ward.
He was weak but refused to stay behind.
“If the ledger is there, I know what it looks like.”
“What’s in it?”
“Names.”
“What names?”
“Police. Judges. Businessmen. Your uncle’s partners.”
“And my father?”
Elias looked away.
“That depends which version of your father you want.”
“The true one.”
He met my eyes.
“Then yes.”
That hurt more than I expected.
My father had not been innocent.
Maybe not even close.
But Elias insisted he had eventually tried to stop Vincenzo.
That attempt might have led to his own death.
Officially, my father died from a heart attack.
Now every death in my family looked different.
We entered St. Gabriel’s through a side door.
Dust covered the pews.
Rain leaked through the old roof.
Behind the altar stood a marble statue of Saint Michael.
Elias pointed.
“Your father used to say Michael guarded the truth.”
Roman examined the base.
Hollow.
Inside was a steel box.
No ledger.
Only a cassette recorder.
A photograph.
And another key.
The photograph showed my father and Daniel.
Taken after Daniel’s supposed death.
My hands shook.
I hated that.
On the back was a date.
Nine years ago.
My brother had survived at least two years after I buried him.
I pressed play on the recorder.
My father’s voice filled the church.
“Adrian, if you are hearing this, then I failed both of my sons.”
I stopped breathing.
“Daniel discovered what Vincenzo was doing. I tried to get him out. The warehouse explosion was staged. Daniel agreed to disappear temporarily while we gathered proof.”
I closed my eyes.
“You were not told because you had already entered the organization deeply enough that Vincenzo watched everything you did.”
Roman stared at me.
My father continued.
“I thought silence would protect you. I was wrong.”
Anger burned through my grief.
Every adult in my life had decided lying to me was protection.
“Vincenzo discovered Daniel was alive. Since then, I have moved him whenever necessary.”
Moved him.
Like property.
“If I die before this ends, trust Thomas Harper.”
Grace’s husband.
“And remember: the ledger is not paper.”
The recording clicked off.
Roman frowned.
“Not paper?”
Elias suddenly looked toward the key.
“What does it open?”
Engraved on the brass was a number.
St. Gabriel’s had no rooms numbered 214.
But Boston South Station did.
Storage lockers.
We moved fast.
Locker 214 contained a small metal case.
Inside was a hard drive.
The ledger.
Roman plugged it into a secured laptop inside the car.
Files populated.
Payments.
Photographs.
Audio.
One folder labeled:
DANIEL.
I opened it.
The newest file was dated thirteen days earlier.
Video.
My brother sat in a chair.
Older.
Thin.
Alive.
He looked into the camera.
“If Adrian finds this, tell him I never blamed him.”
My throat closed.
Then Daniel leaned closer.
“Vincenzo isn’t the real problem anymore.”
I stared at the screen.
“He works for someone else.”
Footsteps sounded outside the car.
Roman looked up.
Too late.
The passenger window exploded.
Gunfire erupted.
Roman shoved me down.
Elias screamed.
Our driver accelerated.
A black SUV chased us through downtown Boston.
I fired twice through the broken rear window.
The SUV swerved.
Then vanished down a side street.
Roman checked Elias.
Blood covered his shirt.
“Elias.”
He grabbed my sleeve.
“The girl.”
“What?”
“They’ll move her.”
“Where?”
He coughed.
“Your house.”
I stared.
“What?”
Elias smiled weakly.
May you like
“Best place to hide something... is where everyone already searched.”
Then his eyes closed.
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