Chapter 14 - The Grandmother Amelia Wasn’t Supposed to MeetAmelia Moretti met her grandmother while kidnapped.
Sheree decided that was the most Moretti family introduction imaginable.
The kidnappers demanded the ledger within twelve hours.
Sofia claimed she did not have it.
Gabriel did not believe her.
Sheree believed half of everybody.
Anthony was missing.
Matteo was under suspicion.
Elena and Amelia were hostages.
And somewhere in Chicago existed a book capable of exposing people powerful enough to survive Salvatore, Richard Vale, and decades of investigations.
At 6:00 p.m., Gabriel began loading weapons.
Sheree watched.
“No.”
He continued.
“Gabriel.”
“They have our daughter.”
“And running into a building with enough ammunition to invade Canada is not a strategy.”
He slammed a magazine into place.
“My daughter is seven years old.”
“Our daughter.”
He stopped.
Sheree approached.
“You don’t get to become the old Gabriel because you’re scared.”
His eyes burned.
“What would you have me do?”
“Think.”
“I am thinking.”
“No. You’re panicking with excellent posture.”
Sofia covered a smile.
Gabriel glared at her.
“Don’t.”
“Sorry.”
Sheree turned to Sofia.
“Where did Elena hide the ledger?”
“I don’t know.”
“Guess.”
Sofia hesitated.
“She said she left it with someone Vittorio would never suspect.”
“Who?”
“A nurse.”
Sheree froze.
Gabriel slowly turned.
“What?”
Sofia continued.
“Elena was injured the night she escaped. A nurse helped her.”
Sheree’s mind raced.
Twenty-one years ago.
St. Jude’s.
Marcus had later discovered the conspiracy.
“Marcus.”
Gabriel understood.
“The nurse knew Marcus.”
They went to the Marcus Carter Community Clinic.
Sheree entered her brother’s old memorial office.
She had been there hundreds of times.
Photographs.
Awards.
His accounting notebooks.
Nothing.
Then she noticed an old framed nursing-school acceptance letter.
Hers.
Marcus had framed it before he died.
Sheree removed the backing.
A thin leather book fell out.
Nobody spoke.
Sofia whispered, “That’s it.”
Sheree stared.
Marcus had possessed it.
All those years.
Her brother had protected Elena Moretti before Sheree ever met Gabriel.
Gabriel almost laughed.
“Our families were tangled together before we knew each other.”
“Apparently fate has boundary issues.”
They opened the ledger.
Names filled the pages.
Some dead.
Some alive.
One appeared repeatedly.
Alexander DeLuca.
Sofia’s face changed.
Gabriel noticed.
“You know him.”
“He raised me.”
Silence.
Sofia swallowed.
“When Mom fled Chicago, Alexander helped us disappear.”
“And?”
“He was Vittorio’s closest friend.”
Gabriel looked at the ledger.
Alexander had financed assassinations.
Bribed officials.
Moved weapons.
Then a photograph fell from between the pages.
Alexander DeLuca.
Beside him stood Anthony Russo.
Much younger.
Gabriel’s expression hardened.
Sheree whispered, “Again with Anthony?”
Sofia looked confused.
“You know him?”
“He’s practically family.”
Sofia shook her head.
“No.”
“What?”
“Anthony Russo worked for Alexander before he ever worked for Gabriel.”
Gabriel’s phone rang.
Anthony.
Gabriel answered immediately.
“Where are you?”
Breathing.
Then Anthony’s voice.
“Don’t give them the ledger.”
“Where is Amelia?”
“I don’t know.”
“Anthony.”
“I was taken too. I got out.”
Gabriel looked at Sofia.
“Who took you?”
Anthony hesitated.
Then:
“Matteo.”
Gabriel’s face emptied.
“No.”
“I saw him.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know.”
The call suddenly ended.
Gabriel stood motionless.
Sheree took his hand.
“Photographs lie. Remember?”
He looked at her.
“You said that about Matteo years ago.”
“I remember.”
A message arrived.
Coordinates.
And one instruction.
BRING THE LEDGER. GABRIEL COMES ALONE.
Sheree read it.
Then looked at him.
“You’re definitely not going alone.”
May you like
Gabriel almost smiled.
“Of course not.”
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