Chapter 7 - What Mary Miller Knew
My mother had disappeared at 3:14 p.m.
At 3:16, her security officer was found unconscious in a parking garage.
At 3:22, a traffic camera recorded a gray van heading west.
At 3:47, the van disappeared.
I blamed Dominic.
It wasn’t fair.
I did it anyway.
“This happened because of you.”
He absorbed it.
“Yes.”
“I should never have taken your card.”
“Yes.”
“I should have walked away.”
“Yes.”
“Stop agreeing with me!”
“What would you prefer?”
“I want my mother!”
My voice broke.
Dominic crossed the room but stopped before touching me.
That restraint destroyed me.
I stepped into him.
For ten seconds, I allowed myself to fall apart against the chest of the most dangerous man I had ever met.
Then my phone rang.
Mom.
I answered.
“Mom?”
Carlo Ventresca spoke.
“Bring the original amendment.”
“Let me hear her.”
“Casey—”
My mother’s voice.
Weak.
Alive.
“I’m okay.”
“Mom.”
“Do not give him anything.”
Carlo pulled the phone away.
“Midnight. Miller farm. Come alone.”
The call ended.
Dominic was already shaking his head.
“No.”
“He has my mother.”
“And he wants you.”
“I know.”
“We do this carefully.”
“No police.”
“He’ll kill her anyway if he gets the document.”
“You don’t know that.”
“I know Carlo.”
“And I know my mother.”
We stared at each other.
Then Dominic said, “There’s something you should know.”
I almost screamed.
“I am so tired of that sentence.”
He opened his desk safe.
Inside was a letter.
Daniel Miller’s handwriting.
My father had written it two weeks before his death.
Mary knows where the final ledger is. If anything happens to me, protect her. Do not let Vittoria find it. Do not let the Russos find it.
I read it twice.
“You had this?”
“My father gave it to me before he died.”
“You knew my mother had another ledger?”
“I suspected.”
“You lied.”
“Yes.”
I slapped the letter onto the desk.
“Why?”
“Because I didn’t know whether your mother wanted you involved.”
“That wasn’t your decision.”
“No.”
He looked at me.
“And I was wrong.”
No defense.
No excuse.
That made my anger harder to hold.
“Where is the ledger?”
“I don’t know.”
But suddenly I did.
The Miller farm.
My father’s old workshop.
Carlo hadn’t chosen it randomly.
Mom had.
She had somehow convinced him that the ledger was there.
She was buying time.
We reached Ohio before eleven.
Dominic wanted a team.
I refused.
We compromised.
I entered alone.
He stayed close enough to intervene.
The farmhouse had been abandoned since my grandmother died.
Carlo waited in the workshop.
My mother sat in a chair.
No ropes.
No bruises.
Just furious.
“Casey, I told you not to come.”
“Hi, Mom.”
Carlo held a gun.
“This family reunion is touching.”
I placed the amendment on the workbench.
“Let her go.”
“The ledger first.”
“What ledger?”
He smiled.
“Your father’s confession.”
Mom’s eyes met mine.
That was when I understood.
The final ledger wasn’t financial.
It was evidence.
Names.
Murders.
Bribes.
Judges.
Politicians.
Every crime committed to preserve the stolen trust.
Enough to destroy not only Ventresca.
Enough to destroy the old Russo organization too.
“Where?” Carlo demanded.
Mom laughed.
“You were never as smart as your father.”
Carlo struck her.
I moved.
The gun turned toward me.
“Don’t.”
I froze.
Then a voice came from the doorway.
“Carlo.”
Dominic.
Carlo smiled.
“You really do follow her everywhere.”
Dominic walked inside with empty hands.
“Let them go.”
“Trade?”
“Me.”
“No!” I shouted.
Carlo considered it.
Dominic was worth more alive than either of us.
He stepped closer.
Carlo pointed the gun at him.
Then my mother said something strange.
“Casey. Your father always hated mice.”
I stared at her.
Mice?
Then I remembered.
The workshop.
Dad kept important papers inside an old metal mousetrap tin because he joked nobody searched something labeled poison.
I lunged toward the shelf.
Carlo turned.
Dominic moved.
The gun fired.
Dominic fell.
Everything became noise.
I grabbed the metal tin.
Carlo came toward me.
My mother stuck out her foot.
He stumbled.
Dominic, bleeding from his shoulder, tackled him.
The gun slid across the floor.
I kicked it beneath the workbench.
Minutes later, Dominic’s men entered.
Carlo Ventresca was finally taken alive.
I dropped beside Dominic.
“You idiot.”
He grimaced.
“Romantic.”
“You got shot.”
“Shoulder.”
“You could have died.”
His eyes held mine.
“So could you.”
I kissed him.
I didn’t plan it.
I didn’t think.
I simply grabbed his face and kissed him while my mother watched, Carlo cursed, and several heavily armed men suddenly became fascinated by the ceiling.
When I pulled away, Dominic looked stunned.
Mom sighed.
“Finally.”
I turned bright red.
Then she pointed toward the tin.
“Open it.”
Inside was the ledger.
And beneath it was another letter from my father.
This one was addressed to me.
The first line read:
Casey, if you are reading this, then words have brought you back to the place I spent my life trying to escape.
May you like
The final line changed what I decided to do next.
Do not inherit our war. End it.
