Chapter 7 - THE PRICE OF A DAUGHTER
I had never been afraid of dying.
That was not courage.
It was simple mathematics.
I had buried too many people to believe death was special.
But the photograph of Sofia with a gun inches from Bear’s head introduced a fear I had never known.
The fear of arriving too late.
I grabbed Evelyn by the arm.
“We’re leaving.”
Bullets struck the stone behind us.
“Your security?”
“Compromised.”
“What happened?”
I showed her the photograph.
Her face changed.
“We need tactical support.”
“No federal agents near my house.”
“Mr. Moretti—”
“The last time Gabriel trusted federal protection, he disappeared.”
“That’s unfair.”
“So is a gun against an eight-year-old’s head.”
We exited through the sacristy.
Luca’s SUV slammed to a stop outside.
I climbed in before it fully stopped.
“Home.”
Luca saw the photograph.
His face drained.
“How?”
“I don’t know.”
He called the estate.
No answer.
Again.
Nothing.
The drive took eleven minutes.
It felt like eleven years.
At the gate, two guards were unconscious.
Not dead.
Drugged.
Inside, the house was silent.
Too silent.
We entered through the main hall.
No bodies.
No Sofia.
No Bear.
On my desk sat an old rotary telephone that had not been there when I left.
It rang.
I answered.
“Where is she?”
A distorted voice replied.
“Alive.”
“If she has a scratch—”
“She has several scratches. She lived on the street, remember?”
Rage tightened my vision.
“What do you want?”
“The Bell ledger.”
“The microfilm?”
“And the key.”
So they knew about Father Russo.
“Proof she’s alive.”
The line clicked.
Sofia came on.
“Nico?”
She had stopped calling me Mr. Moretti.
Not father.
Not yet.
“Nico.”
“I’m here.”
“Bear got hurt.”
My hand tightened.
“Are you hurt?”
“No.”
“Where are you?”
A man shouted in the background.
Sofia went silent.
Then whispered quickly.
“There’s water outside. Big boats. And bells.”
The line changed.
The distorted voice returned.
“Smart child.”
“If you touch her—”
“Midnight. Pier Seventeen. Come alone.”
“That pier hasn’t operated in ten years.”
“Exactly.”
“What happens if I bring the ledger?”
“You get the girl.”
“And Gabriel?”
Silence.
So they had him too.
“You have Gabriel.”
“You ask too many questions.”
The line went dead.
Luca checked the phone.
“No trace.”
Evelyn entered behind us.
“You’re not going alone.”
“Yes.”
“That’s suicide.”
“Possibly.”
“Then let us work.”
“No.”
She stepped in front of me.
“This is bigger than your family.”
I grabbed the microfilm.
“No.”
I looked toward the empty couch where Sofia had slept.
“It was bigger than my family until they took my daughter.”
The word escaped before I could stop it.
Daughter.
Luca heard.
Evelyn heard.
I did not care.
I turned to my guards.
“Everyone who was on duty is confined.”
“Boss—”
“No one leaves.”
Luca followed me into the armory.
“You actually plan to go alone?”
“No.”
“Good.”
“I plan to look alone.”
He smiled faintly.
“That sounds more like you.”
We studied old port maps.
Pier Seventeen belonged to Bellweather.
Of course.
The property had been abandoned after a warehouse fire.
Except city records showed underground maintenance tunnels still connected it to the active shipping terminal.
“They can move her anywhere,” Luca said.
“Then we don’t give them time.”
I pointed to a drainage outlet along the river.
“You enter here.”
“That’s underwater at high tide.”
“High tide isn’t until one.”
He checked the clock.
“You really do read useless things.”
“I own docks.”
“Fair.”
Evelyn joined us.
“I have something.”
She put a tablet on the table.
Satellite images.
“Pier Seventeen received electrical service three months ago.”
“Registered to?”
“Bellweather.”
“And Matteo?”
“No border crossings. No airport records.”
“He’s here.”
“Yes.”
I looked at the image again.
“Who owns the adjoining pier?”
“Whitmore Development.”
There it was.
Matteo and Whitmore.
Partners.
Or enemies using the same ground.
“Two groups,” I said.
Evelyn nodded.
“That’s my theory too.”
“Who took Sofia?”
“We don’t know.”
“But they want the ledger alive.”
“Which sounds like Whitmore.”
“Matteo benefits if she dies.”
“Yes.”
I thought of the photograph.
A gun at Bear.
Not Sofia.
Why threaten the dog instead of the child?
Because the kidnapper wanted her cooperative.
Because they needed her alive.
Whitmore.
“What does the ledger expose?”
Evelyn hesitated.
“Enough to destroy several careers.”
“That’s not worth this.”
“No.”
She looked at me.
“There’s another section.”
“Go on.”
“Offshore accounts tied to defense contracts.”
Now it made sense.
“This isn’t city corruption.”
“No.”
“How high?”
“Cabinet level.”
Even Luca stopped joking.
I laughed softly.
Gabriel had not stumbled into a scandal.
He had found a bomb.
At eleven thirty, I left for Pier Seventeen.
Alone in the visible car.
Luca’s team entered through the river tunnel.
Evelyn positioned federal agents six blocks away.
No lights.
No sirens.
The abandoned pier rose from the snow like a skeleton.
I entered the warehouse carrying a metal case.
Inside were fake microfilm strips.
The real ledger remained hidden.
A spotlight turned on.
Sofia sat in a chair near the center of the warehouse.
Her hands were tied.
Bear lay beside her.
Blood stained one rear leg.
He was alive.
Across from them stood Senator Charles Whitmore.
I had met him twice at charity dinners.
Handsome.
Silver-haired.
A smile built for television.
Tonight he wore no smile.
“Mr. Moretti.”
“Sofia.”
She looked at me.
“I’m okay.”
Of course she said that.
Whitmore held out his hand.
“The ledger.”
“Let her go.”
“After.”
“No.”
His men raised rifles.
I looked at Sofia.
“Close your eyes.”
She did.
Whitmore’s expression shifted.
“You’re threatening me?”
“I’m explaining what happens next.”
“You came alone.”
“No one like me is ever alone.”
His face tightened.
“Ledger.”
I opened the case.
He stepped closer.
Then froze.
“This isn’t it.”
“No.”
He drew his pistol.
I smiled.
A gunshot exploded from the rafters.
One of Whitmore’s men dropped.
Then another.
Luca.
Chaos erupted.
I overturned a steel table and fired.
Sofia dropped sideways with her chair.
Bear crawled toward her.
Whitmore ran for the rear door.
I moved toward Sofia.
A bullet struck my shoulder.
I barely felt it.
I cut her hands free.
“Bear!”
“He’s alive.”
She grabbed the dog.
“Go with Luca.”
“No!”
“Sofia.”
“You promised you’d come back!”
“I did.”
“You’re bleeding.”
“So is everyone.”
That almost made her smile.
Luca reached us.
“Take her.”
He grabbed Sofia.
I turned toward Whitmore.
The senator had vanished through the rear corridor.
I followed.
Outside, he ran toward the river.
A car waited.
Its rear door opened.
Matteo stepped out.
Whitmore stopped.
“Get me out of here!”
Matteo smiled.
Then shot him in the chest.
The senator fell into the snow.
I raised my weapon.
Matteo aimed at me.
For several seconds, neither of us moved.
“You always did clean up other people’s messes,” I said.
“He was becoming inconvenient.”
“You took Sofia?”
“No.”
“Gabriel?”
His smile faded.
“Also no.”
That surprised me.
“You called from his phone.”
“I had access to a recording.”
“Where is he?”
“If I knew, he’d be dead.”
I studied him.
“Then who has him?”
Matteo looked toward the warehouse.
“You still haven’t figured it out.”
“Tell me.”
He lowered his gun slightly.
“Whitmore wasn’t the top.”
“I know.”
“No.”
My brother’s expression changed.
For the first time, I saw genuine fear.
“You don’t.”
A shot cracked.
Matteo jerked backward.
Blood appeared on his side.
He fired blindly toward the darkness.
A sniper.
Not mine.
Not federal.
Matteo stumbled toward his car.
I should have let him die.
Instead I grabbed his coat and dragged him behind a concrete barrier.
He stared at me.
“Why?”
“I want answers.”
He laughed painfully.
“Still sentimental.”
Another bullet struck concrete.
A vehicle accelerated from the far side of the pier.
Whoever fired was leaving.
Matteo pressed a hand to his wound.
“You want to know who’s above Whitmore?”
“Yes.”
He looked me directly in the eyes.
“Ask your mother.”
I stared at him.
“Our mother is dead.”
Matteo smiled through the pain.
“No, Nico.”
Then he lost consciousness.
May you like
Behind me, Sofia screamed my name.
And somewhere beyond the river, church bells began ringing midnight.
