Chapter 9 - The Safe Beneath the ChurchThe abandoned church stood at the end of a narrow street lined with boarded-up houses and empty storefronts.
A rusted metal sign hung above the entrance. Snow covered the steps, and the windows had been painted black from the inside. It looked less like a place of worship than a building someone had tried very hard to erase.
Nora sat beside me in the car.
"This is where Elena planned to meet Victor," she said.
"And where she hid the evidence."
She nodded.
"She told me that if anything happened, I should look beneath the statue of Saint Michael."
Caleb checked his weapon.
"How many people know about this place?"
"Three," Nora answered. "Elena, Victor, and me."
I looked at her.
"Now four."
We entered through a side door with a broken lock.
The church smelled of damp stone and old wood. Our flashlights swept across empty pews, a collapsed altar, and a Christmas wreath hanging crookedly above the pulpit.
I had expected a hidden room or a wall safe.
Instead, we found a wooden statue near the rear entrance.
Saint Michael stood with a sword raised above a small demon. Someone had painted the angel's face white, but age had cracked the surface.
Nora knelt beside the pedestal.
"There."
A small iron plate had been screwed into the base.
Caleb removed it.
Behind it lay a narrow compartment containing a brass lockbox.
The key from Maisie's Christmas present fit perfectly.
Inside were bank statements, several handwritten letters, a flash drive, and a leather notebook.
The first letter was addressed to me.
My hands were steady when I unfolded it.
They remained steady through the first paragraph.
By the third, I had to sit down.
Gabriel, if you are reading this, I have failed to protect our family in the way I promised you.
Dante has been selling information to the Bellandi family. I found payments disguised as construction expenses, shipments diverted through the southern ports, and names of witnesses who disappeared shortly after giving statements to the police.
I confronted him. He denied everything, but I know he is lying.
He told me that if anything ever happened to me, you would blame yourself. He said you would become careless with grief.
My throat tightened.
Elena had understood my brother better than I had.
The letter continued.
He has also been asking Dr. Bell about our daughter. He wants to know whether the baby has inherited a rare condition that runs in our family. I don't know what he intends to do with that information. I only know that he is afraid of something.
I looked at Caleb.
"An inherited condition?"
He shook his head.
"Your father had a heart condition that ran in the family. But there's no evidence that Elena carried it."
I returned to the letter.
If the baby survives, do not let Dante take her. He believes that whoever controls the Marchetti heir controls the family.
I know you will want revenge. But please, Gabriel, choose our daughter over the empire.
I lowered the letter.
For years, I had believed my wife wanted me to preserve everything my father had built.
She had wanted me to protect our child.
I had misunderstood the last thing she asked of me.
A sound echoed from the entrance.
Caleb raised his gun.
Someone was inside the church.
A figure stepped into the light.
Dr. Victor Bell stood near the doorway, older and thinner than in the photographs, a gray beard covering his jaw.
He looked directly at me.
"Gabriel Marchetti."
I stood.
"You have a remarkable talent for surviving."
Bell glanced at the lockbox.
"Then you found Elena's letters."
"Where is Dante?"
"Not far."
"What did he do to my wife?"
Bell's eyes filled with shame.
"I should have told you four years ago."
"You should have told me the day she died."
He nodded.
"You're right."
I stepped toward him.
"Then tell me everything."
Bell took a shaky breath.
"Elena never died in that car accident."
The words struck the church like a gunshot.
Nora gasped.
I stared at him.
"Explain."
"The woman in the car was a decoy. Elena used a false identity to leave the city with your daughter. Dante discovered the plan and intercepted them."
"Then where is she?"
Bell looked down.
For one terrible moment, I thought he would refuse to answer.
Then he whispered, "I don't know."
I seized his coat.
"You're going to do better than that."
May you like
Bell's eyes filled with tears.
"Because the last person who knew where Elena went was murdered three days ago."
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