Chapter 6 - What Her Father Had Hidden
Beatrice opened the door only after Luca checked the hallway.
Her mother, Kathleen Gallagher, stood outside wearing a navy coat over pajamas.
She looked exhausted.
Terrified.
“Mom?”
Kathleen stepped inside and hugged her.
“What happened?”
“I got a call.”
“From who?”
“Arthur Wilkes.”
The room went silent.
Dante closed the door.
Kathleen saw him.
Recognition crossed her face.
“Moretti.”
Not Mr. Moretti.
Not Dante.
Moretti.
Beatrice pulled back.
“You know him?”
“I know the name.”
“Mom, what is happening?”
Kathleen looked toward the photograph on the table.
Her face collapsed.
“Oh, Patrick.”
“You knew about this?”
Kathleen sat.
For several seconds she seemed unable to speak.
Then she looked at Beatrice.
“Your father made me promise.”
“Promise what?”
“That I would never tell you unless someone came looking.”
“Someone came looking.”
“I know.”
Kathleen folded her hands tightly.
“Before you were born, your father worked part-time reviewing municipal redevelopment contracts. The city was investigating inflated construction bids. He found companies billing millions for buildings that were never repaired.”
Dante's expression changed.
“Moretti Construction.”
Kathleen nodded.
“Your father's company wasn't the only one.”
Dante said nothing.
“My father knew?” he asked.
“Yes. Lorenzo Moretti discovered some of his managers were falsifying contracts. He quietly hired Marianne Vale to trace the money.”
“And Patrick?”
“They worked together.”
Beatrice sat opposite her mother.
“Arthur Wilkes?”
“He was their banker.”
Everything connected.
Money.
Construction.
Accounting.
Wilkes & Hart.
Marianne.
Her father.
Kathleen continued.
“The four of them discovered something bigger than fraud. A private network was using legitimate businesses to hide stolen pension funds, development grants, and city money.”
“How much?” Beatrice asked.
“Hundreds of millions.”
Dante swore quietly.
“Who ran it?”
Kathleen looked at him.
“Arthur didn't.”
Beatrice frowned.
“But he called me.”
“Because Arthur is afraid.”
“Of who?”
Kathleen hesitated.
“Marianne.”
Dante stared.
“You said she disappeared.”
“She did.”
“You knew where?”
“No. Patrick believed she was dead.”
“What changed?”
“Three months before your father died, he received a letter.”
Kathleen opened her purse.
She removed a folded piece of paper.
“I kept it.”
Beatrice unfolded it.
Only one sentence.
YOU SHOULD HAVE LET THE PAST STAY BURIED.
No signature.
Kathleen said, “Your father became frightened after that.”
“Why didn't he tell me?”
“Because you worked at Wilkes & Hart. He thought ignorance protected you.”
Beatrice almost laughed.
Instead tears burned her eyes.
“He let me work there for ten years.”
“He tried to make you leave.”
Beatrice remembered.
Her father had repeatedly suggested government accounting jobs.
Universities.
Hospitals.
Anywhere else.
She had assumed he disliked corporate finance.
“He knew?”
“He suspected Arthur had placed you there.”
“Arthur?”
Kathleen shook her head.
“Not Marianne. Arthur.”
The room shifted again.
Beatrice stood.
“Why?”
“Because Arthur wanted someone he could trust.”
“He didn't know me.”
“He knew Patrick.”
Dante said, “Arthur placed Beatrice inside Wilkes & Hart to watch his own company.”
Kathleen nodded.
Beatrice felt anger rise.
“So my entire career was arranged?”
“No. Arthur got you the interview. You earned everything afterward.”
“That doesn't make it better.”
“I know.”
Dante picked up the photograph.
“If Arthur wanted her protected, why threaten her tonight?”
Kathleen looked confused.
“He didn't.”
“He called her phone.”
“Arthur called me an hour ago begging me to get Beatrice out of the city.”
Beatrice stared.
“Then who called me?”
Dante understood first.
“Voice imitation.”
Luca, standing near the doorway, nodded.
“Could be generated.”
Beatrice looked at the photograph again.
Someone wanted Arthur blamed.
Someone wanted Charles blamed.
Someone wanted Elliot blamed.
Every layer redirected suspicion.
Accounting fraud built like mirrors.
“Marianne,” Beatrice whispered.
Dante said, “Possibly.”
Kathleen's face tightened.
“Patrick believed Marianne died because she discovered who actually controlled the network.”
“Who?”
“He never told me.”
“Why?”
“He said names were dangerous.”
Dante's phone rang.
He answered.
Listened.
Then stood straighter.
“Arthur Wilkes is missing.”
Beatrice's pulse jumped.
“Since when?”
“Left the gala at eleven. Driver found his car abandoned.”
Kathleen covered her mouth.
Dante continued listening.
Then his gaze landed on Beatrice.
“What?”
He ended the call.
“Elliot Crane has been found.”
“Alive?”
“Yes.”
“Where?”
“Hospital.”
They went immediately.
Elliot had suffered a concussion but was conscious.
Police guarded his room.
Detective Ortiz was already there.
“You people ever sleep?” she asked.
“No,” Beatrice said.
Ortiz allowed Beatrice inside for five minutes.
Elliot looked twenty years older.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered.
“Tell me the truth.”
“I tried.”
“Try again.”
He swallowed.
“Arthur told me to create the administrator profile nine months ago.”
Beatrice froze.
“Arthur?”
“He said it was an internal fraud trap. He wanted to see who accessed it.”
“So my name was bait?”
“I didn't know he'd use your real identity. I swear.”
“What about the theft?”
“Charles found the profile.”
“How?”
“Victoria.”
Beatrice frowned.
“Victoria was working with Charles?”
“At first. They began siphoning money three months ago. Small amounts.”
“From Dante?”
“From several clients.”
“Then why does everything point to me?”
Elliot's eyes filled with fear.
“Because somebody took over.”
“Who?”
“Two weeks ago Charles came to me terrified. He said someone knew everything.”
“Who?”
“He wouldn't tell me.”
Dante stepped nearer.
“Did you send Beatrice's folder to me?”
Elliot nodded.
“I thought if Moretti saw it, he'd protect her long enough for the truth to come out.”
Beatrice closed her eyes.
That explained the anonymous courier.
“Then who attacked you?”
“I never saw him.”
“What were you trying to text me?”
Elliot looked at Beatrice.
“The person running this is not inside Wilkes & Hart.”
Silence.
“Then where?”
Elliot swallowed.
“Inside Moretti Holdings.”
Dante went still.
Ortiz looked at him.
Beatrice felt the room turn colder.
“Who?” Dante asked.
Elliot whispered a name.
“Luca Bellini.”
Everyone looked toward the hallway.
The place where Luca had been standing seconds earlier.
He was gone.
Dante immediately called.
No answer.
Again.
Nothing.
Beatrice's phone vibrated.
A message from Maggie.
BEA, LUCA JUST CAME TO MY APARTMENT. HE SAYS DANTE SENT HIM.
Beatrice looked up.
Dante had gone pale.
“I didn't.”
Another message arrived.
HE'S INSIDE.
Then a third.
Beatrice read it once.
Twice.
May you like
Her blood went cold.
HE LOCKED THE DOOR.
