Chapter 4 - WHAT HER FATHER KNEWLily Bennett was furious.
Not frightened.
Not confused.
Furious.
By the time Roman and Claire reached Harbor Ridge, Lily had already demanded to know why two armed security officers were standing outside her room.
“I’m not a president,” she said.
Claire hugged her so tightly Lily complained she couldn’t breathe.
“You’re crushing me.”
“Good.”
“That makes no medical sense.”
Claire laughed and cried at the same time.
Roman remained near the doorway.
Lily noticed him.
Her eyes narrowed.
“You’re Roman DeLuca.”
He glanced at Claire.
Claire looked embarrassed.
Lily continued.
“You’re shorter on television.”
Roman was six-foot-three.
He decided he liked her immediately.
“I’ll complain to the cameras.”
Lily looked at his chest.
“Are those tattoos real?”
“Lily.”
“What? I’m recovering. I need entertainment.”
Roman smiled.
Then became serious.
“Can we ask about yesterday?”
Lily’s humor disappeared.
“The blonde woman?”
“Yes.”
“She said she was from a charity.”
“Did she give her name?”
“Vivian.”
Claire sat beside the bed.
“What did she want?”
Lily looked between Claire and Roman.
“She asked about Dad.”
“What about him?”
“Whether he ever gave me anything before he died.”
Claire frowned.
“What?”
“Keys. Boxes. Papers.”
Roman and Claire exchanged a look.
“And the man?” Roman asked.
“Her father.”
“How do you know?”
“She called him Dad.”
Lily shifted in her wheelchair.
“He barely talked.”
“What did Vivian show you?”
“A picture of Dad when he was younger.”
“Did you recognize where it was taken?”
Lily thought.
“Some warehouse.”
Roman leaned closer.
“Anything written behind him?”
“Maybe.”
“What?”
“Numbers.”
Lily closed her eyes.
“I don’t know.”
Claire squeezed her hand.
“You did great.”
Lily looked at her sister.
“Why is this happening?”
Claire couldn’t answer.
Roman did.
“Because your father probably knew something powerful people didn’t want him to know.”
Lily stared at him.
“Did they kill him?”
Claire’s breath caught.
Roman immediately regretted his bluntness.
“We don’t know.”
Lily looked toward the window.
“That means maybe.”
Nobody contradicted her.
Gabriel entered.
“We have the storage unit.”
Roman looked at Claire.
“This is your decision.”
That surprised her.
“You’re asking?”
“Yes.”
She stared at him for a second.
“Open it.”
The storage facility in Queens contained twelve boxes belonging to Thomas Bennett.
Most were painfully ordinary.
Tax returns.
Old Christmas decorations.
Claire’s childhood artwork.
Lily’s hospital records.
A broken toaster Thomas had apparently believed deserved preservation.
Then they found a locked metal filing box.
No key.
Gabriel offered to force it.
Claire stopped him.
“My father had a rule.”
“What?” Roman asked.
“If something was locked, the key was never far away.”
They searched.
Twenty minutes later Lily, connected through video from Harbor Ridge, noticed an old ceramic Santa in one box.
“Break his head.”
Claire stared at the screen.
“What?”
“Dad hated that Santa.”
Roman picked it up.
“I understand why.”
The Santa was horrifying.
Lily grinned.
“Break it.”
Claire reluctantly smashed the ceramic figure against the concrete floor.
Inside was a brass key.
Roman looked at her.
“Your father was dramatic.”
“You should talk.”
The key opened the file box.
Inside were ledgers dating back sixteen years.
Invoices.
Bank statements.
Photographs.
Copies of checks.
And correspondence involving Mercer Transportation.
Roman read quietly.
Then his face changed.
“What?”
Claire asked.
He handed her one invoice.
It showed Mercer Transportation billing DeLuca-controlled shipping companies for equipment that never existed.
Millions of dollars.
Claire looked at him.
“My father found this?”
“He documented it.”
There were dozens more.
False repair costs.
Phantom fuel purchases.
Fictitious vehicles.
Money had moved from DeLuca businesses through Mercer companies and into private offshore accounts.
Then Roman found a letter.
It was written by Thomas Bennett.
Addressed to Roman’s father, Vincent DeLuca.
Mr. DeLuca, I believe Charles Mercer has been stealing from both our companies for years. I can prove it.
Roman stopped.
His father had received warning.
“What happened?” Claire asked.
Roman turned the page.
Vincent DeLuca’s response was handwritten.
Only one sentence.
Destroy everything and forget what you found.
Roman stared.
Claire whispered:
“Your father knew.”
“Yes.”
“Why wouldn’t he stop it?”
Roman’s jaw tightened.
“Because Charles Mercer was useful.”
Claire looked disgusted.
“And my father?”
Another document answered.
Thomas was fired three days later.
Blacklisted across several logistics companies.
Then Lily became sick.
No job.
No insurance.
No time.
A private lender appeared.
Atlantic Crown Financial.
Claire slowly understood.
“They offered him the money because he was desperate.”
Roman nodded.
“But why?”
The loan agreement contained an additional confidentiality clause.
Thomas Bennett had not merely borrowed money.
He had agreed never to disclose information obtained while working for Mercer Transportation.
Claire covered her mouth.
“My father sold his silence to save Lily.”
Roman looked at her.
“No.”
She stared.
“He was blackmailed into it.”
Tears filled her eyes.
For years Claire had believed her father made a terrible financial choice because he loved Lily.
The truth was worse.
Charles Mercer had created the desperation and then monetized it.
Another envelope lay beneath the contracts.
Claire opened it.
Inside was a letter Thomas had written but apparently never mailed.
Claire, if anything happens to me, it was not because I was tired.
Her hands began to shake.
Roman moved closer.
She read.
I made copies. Charles knows. Vincent DeLuca knows too. There is one person inside the DeLuca organization I believed I could trust, but I may have been wrong.
The next line contained a name.
Claire’s eyes lifted toward Roman.
He read it.
SALVATORE DELUCA.
Roman’s uncle.
The man who had helped raise him after Vincent died.
The man currently sitting at DeLuca House entertaining stranded Christmas guests.
Roman pulled out his phone.
“Gabriel.”
“Yes?”
“Where is Salvatore?”
A pause.
“He left.”
Roman froze.
“When?”
“Twenty-three minutes ago.”
“How?”
“West gate.”
“The gates were sealed.”
Gabriel’s voice hardened.
“He used your override.”
Roman’s expression changed.
Only two people possessed that override.
Roman.
And Salvatore.
“Find him.”
Claire continued reading Thomas’s letter.
At the bottom was one final sentence.
She whispered it aloud.
If Salvatore ever asks about the original ledger, run.
Roman looked at the papers.
“Original ledger?”
“These are copies.”
Claire searched the box.
No ledger.
Then she remembered something.
“My father gave Lily something before he died.”
“What?”
“A music box.”
“Where is it?”
Claire’s eyes widened.
“Harbor Ridge.”
Roman was already dialing security.
Nobody answered.
He tried again.
Nothing.
Claire called Lily.
No response.
Then Roman’s phone rang.
Unknown number.
He answered.
A man spoke.
“You should have left the Bennett family buried.”
Roman recognized the voice.
Not Salvatore.
Charles Mercer.
Roman’s hand tightened around the phone.
“Where is Lily?”
Charles laughed softly.
“You’re asking the wrong question.”
“What question should I ask?”
“Who inside your family has been protecting me for fifteen years?”
The call ended.
Seconds later, Harbor Ridge security finally answered.
The officer sounded breathless.
“Mr. DeLuca?”
“Yes.”
“We have a problem.”
“What?”
“Miss Bennett is here.”
Claire gripped Roman’s arm.
“Then what?”
May you like
The officer paused.
“Her music box is gone.”
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