Chapter 7 - The Bodyguard Who Knew Too Much
For nine years, Caleb Ross had stood between Dante Moretti and every threat against his family.
Now Gabriel was warning that Caleb might be the greatest threat of all.
Clara stood motionless beside Eleanor's bed.
The phone had gone silent.
Eleanor still held it against her ear.
“Gabriel?”
No answer.
“Sweetheart?”
Clara gently touched her shoulder.
“The call ended, Mrs. Moretti.”
Eleanor lowered the phone.
Her expression was devastated.
“He's alive.”
Clara nodded.
“Yes.”
“My boy is alive.”
Then Eleanor gripped her hand.
“But he said Caleb works for Richard.”
Clara glanced toward the hallway.
“Please don't say anything yet.”
“Why?”
“Because if Gabriel is right, we don't know who Caleb has told.”
Eleanor nodded slowly.
“Call Dante.”
Clara dialed his private number.
He answered immediately.
“Is Mom okay?”
“Yes, sir. But something happened.”
“What?”
“Gabriel called.”
Silence.
Then Dante's voice sharpened.
“Where is he?”
“He's safe for now. He's with Violet.”
“Violet Sterling?”
“Yes.”
“Did he say where?”
“No.”
Dante exhaled.
“What else?”
Clara hesitated.
“Sir, he warned us about Caleb.”
Another silence.
“What did he say?”
“That Caleb worked for Richard Sterling before he joined your family.”
Dante looked across the hospital corridor.
Caleb stood twenty feet away, speaking quietly into his phone.
“Clara,” Dante said, “don't tell anyone about this call.”
“Yes, sir.”
“And don't leave my mother alone.”
“I won't.”
Dante disconnected.
Then watched Caleb through the glass doors.
His security chief had saved his life twice.
Once during an attempted kidnapping.
Once during a shooting outside a Manhattan restaurant.
Dante had trusted him with passwords, business records, and his mother's safety.
He had even considered Caleb a friend.
Now he wondered how much of that friendship had been real.
Caleb ended his call and approached.
“Everything okay, Boss?”
Dante kept his expression neutral.
“Mom's tired.”
“Want me to arrange another guard?”
“No. Clara's with her.”
Caleb nodded.
“We should get back.”
Dante studied him.
“Who were you talking to?”
Caleb paused.
“One of our investigators.”
“About?”
“The Sterling properties.”
Dante held his gaze.
“Find anything?”
“Not yet.”
Dante nodded.
“Let's go.”
But as they walked toward the elevator, Dante made a decision.
He would not confront Caleb without proof.
At the estate, Dante went directly to Antonio's study.
He locked the door.
Then opened a private laptop Caleb had never used.
For the next hour, he reviewed personnel records, bank transfers, and security contracts.
Caleb Ross had joined the Moretti organization nine years earlier.
Before that, he had worked for a private security firm called Blackstone Protection.
Dante searched its corporate records.
The firm had been dissolved seven years ago.
Its largest client had been Bellweather Holdings.
Dante stared at the screen.
Gabriel had been right.
But something else caught his attention.
Caleb's employment file listed an emergency contact.
Sarah Ross.
Relationship: sister.
Dante had never heard Caleb mention a sister.
He searched further.
Sarah Ross had died ten years earlier.
Cause of death: complications following an automobile collision.
The police report named another vehicle.
Registered owner:
Richard Sterling.
Dante leaned back.
Caleb had worked for Richard after his sister died in a collision involving Richard's car.
That wasn't a coincidence.
But it didn't tell Dante which side Caleb was on.
At 11:40 p.m., Dante summoned Caleb to the study.
His security chief entered carrying a folder.
“Found something on the Sterling accounts.”
“Close the door.”
Caleb obeyed.
Dante gestured toward the chair.
“Sit.”
Caleb frowned.
“What's going on?”
Dante placed a photograph on the desk.
Sarah Ross.
Twenty-four years old.
Smiling beside a red convertible.
Caleb's face changed.
“Where did you get that?”
“Your personnel file led me to her.”
Caleb stared.
“Leave my sister out of this.”
“Richard Sterling killed her?”
Caleb's jaw tightened.
“The police called it an accident.”
“What do you call it?”
Caleb looked away.
“Murder.”
Dante waited.
After a long silence, Caleb spoke.
“Sarah was an accountant. She worked for a company Richard controlled.”
“Bellweather?”
“Yes.”
“What did she discover?”
“Payments to shell companies. Fake invoices. Money disappearing from trust accounts.”
Dante leaned forward.
“Did she report it?”
“She tried.”
“What happened?”
“Richard found out.”
Caleb rubbed his forehead.
“Two days later, someone ran her off the road.”
Dante said quietly:
“And you went to work for him.”
Caleb nodded.
“I wanted proof.”
“Did you get it?”
“Some.”
“Why didn't you tell me?”
“Because your father was involved.”
Dante felt his stomach drop.
Caleb continued.
“I joined Richard's security company under an assumed employment history. I spent months gathering records. Then Antonio discovered what I was doing.”
“What did Dad say?”
“He offered me a job.”
Dante stared.
“Why?”
“He said Richard would eventually kill me if I stayed close to him.”
“And you believed him?”
“Antonio gave me Sarah's original accounting files. He told me he'd been trying to dismantle Bellweather without destroying his family.”
Dante's expression hardened.
“Then why have you kept this from me for nine years?”
Caleb looked ashamed.
“Because Antonio made me promise not to tell you until I found the person who ordered Sarah's death.”
“Richard?”
“I thought so.”
“And now?”
Caleb slowly removed a photograph from his folder.
It showed a black sedan outside Sarah's apartment the night before the crash.
A man stood beside it.
Dante recognized him.
His father's longtime attorney.
Martin Whitlock.
Dante frowned.
“Whitlock handled Dad's estate.”
Caleb nodded.
“He also drafted the documents Vanessa used to try to sell this house.”
Dante felt cold.
“Why didn't you tell me that?”
“Because I only confirmed it this afternoon.”
“Then why did Gabriel warn my mother about you?”
Caleb looked genuinely startled.
“Gabriel called Eleanor?”
Dante watched his reaction.
“Yes.”
Caleb sat back.
“Then he's discovered my connection to Richard.”
“Why would that frighten him?”
“Because I was assigned to find him seventeen years ago.”
Dante's hand tightened.
“You hunted my brother?”
“For Richard's security firm, yes. I didn't know Gabriel was alive until years later. I was given photographs and told he was a thief using a dead man's identity.”
Dante stared at him.
“Did you find him?”
“No.”
“Would you have handed him over?”
Caleb's voice broke.
“At the time, I probably would have.”
The admission hung between them.
Dante stood.
“Give me your gun.”
Caleb slowly removed it.
Placed it on the desk.
“And your access card.”
Caleb obeyed.
“You're suspended until I verify everything you've told me.”
Caleb nodded.
“I understand.”
Dante moved toward the door.
Caleb spoke.
“Boss.”
Dante stopped.
“If you find Gabriel before I do, tell him I'm sorry.”
Dante said nothing.
Caleb continued.
“And don't trust Martin Whitlock.”
“Why?”
“Because Richard Sterling doesn't have the authority to sell your mother's trust.”
Dante turned.
“Then who does?”
Caleb swallowed.
“Whoever controls Antonio's original estate documents.”
The following morning, Martin Whitlock arrived at the estate carrying a black briefcase.
He was sixty-three, impeccably dressed, with silver hair and expensive glasses.
Dante met him in the study.
“Martin.”
“Dante. I heard about the unfortunate engagement dinner.”
“Unfortunate?”
Martin cleared his throat.
“Vanessa's behavior was inexcusable.”
Dante placed the forged sale authorization on the desk.
“Did you prepare this?”
Martin adjusted his glasses.
“I'd need to examine it.”
“Examine it.”
The attorney read the first page.
Then the second.
His face remained expressionless.
“This appears to be a preliminary draft.”
“With my forged signature?”
Martin looked up.
“I can't verify that without a handwriting expert.”
Dante leaned forward.
“Who instructed you to prepare it?”
“I have confidentiality obligations.”
“To whom?”
Martin hesitated.
“Your father's estate.”
“My father has been dead six years.”
“Yes.”
“Then answer me.”
Martin closed the folder.
“Antonio anticipated that certain assets might need to be transferred to protect Eleanor.”
“From whom?”
“Potential creditors.”
“Why would my mother need to be placed in a residential facility?”
Martin's expression hardened.
“I didn't draft that application.”
Dante watched him.
“Vanessa did?”
“I can't say.”
Dante slid another document across the desk.
A bank transfer.
Two hundred thousand dollars from Bellweather Holdings to Whitlock's consulting company.
Three weeks before Vanessa proposed selling the estate.
Martin went pale.
Dante spoke quietly.
“Now let's try again.”
Martin stood abruptly.
“I won't be threatened.”
“Sit down.”
“I have nothing further to say.”
He reached for his briefcase.
Dante stepped toward the door.
“Then you can explain the transfer to investigators.”
Martin froze.
After several seconds, he slowly sat.
“Richard Sterling is not the man you think he is.”
Dante gave a bitter laugh.
“I'm starting to understand that.”
“No,” Martin whispered. “You aren't.”
He opened his briefcase.
Removed a sealed envelope.
And placed it on the desk.
“Antonio instructed me to deliver this only if both his sons were alive.”
Dante stared.
“You knew Gabriel survived?”
Martin nodded.
“For years.”
Dante's voice shook.
“Then you let me mourn him.”
“I was following your father's instructions.”
Dante slammed his palm against the desk.
“STOP HIDING BEHIND MY FATHER!”
Martin flinched.
Dante opened the envelope.
Inside was a notarized statement.
Antonio Moretti had signed it six months before his death.
Dante read the first paragraph.
Then the second.
His anger slowly turned to disbelief.
The statement named the person Antonio believed had orchestrated the warehouse fire.
Not Richard Sterling.
Not Catherine.
Not Martin Whitlock.
Dante looked up.
“Is this genuine?”
Martin nodded.
“Every word.”
May you like
Dante stared at the final sentence.
“I HAVE REASON TO BELIEVE MY SON GABRIEL ORDERED THE FIRE HIMSELF.”
