Chapter 7 - THE SAFE UNDER THE FLOOR
I couldn't move.
My uncle stepped inside.
Arthur aimed his gun.
Samuel didn't care.
“You shouldn't have come,” Arthur said.
Samuel smiled.
“You're late.”
“For what?”
“For the part where she learns what you did.”
I stared at my uncle.
“What did my father tell you?”
“Enough.”
“What did he know?”
“Everything.”
“Then tell me.”
Samuel looked at Arthur.
Arthur's expression was stone.
Samuel said,
“Your father was the accountant for the Costello organization.”
“I know.”
“No. You don't.”
He reached into his coat.
Arthur raised his gun higher.
Samuel pulled out a small envelope.
He handed it to me.
Inside was a hospital wristband.
Thomas Hayes.
My father's name.
And a date.
Three days before his official death.
I looked at Samuel.
“What is this?”
“The day he was pronounced dead.”
I stared.
“That's impossible.”
Samuel shook his head.
“Your father survived the attack.”
“What attack?”
“The first one.”
My knees weakened.
Arthur caught my arm.
Samuel continued.
“Thomas woke up in the hospital.”
“Then why did he die three days later?”
“He escaped.”
“To where?”
“Home.”
I looked at Arthur.
“You knew.”
Arthur said nothing.
Samuel whispered,
“He came to me that night.”
My uncle pulled out a key.
Not brass.
Steel.
“This opens the floor safe beneath your father's old house.”
“My father’s house was sold.”
“Not the house.”
“The basement.”
I stared.
Samuel looked at Arthur.
“Come with us.”
Arthur refused.
“I don't need you.”
Samuel smiled.
“You need what your brother stole.”
Arthur's expression changed.
“Gabriel had a brother?”
Samuel nodded.
“Your father found him.”
The three of us drove to the neighborhood where I grew up.
My childhood home was abandoned.
Windows boarded.
Snow covering the porch.
Inside, everything was dust and broken furniture.
I remembered the kitchen.
The hallway.
The bedroom where my father had once measured my height against the wall.
Samuel led us downstairs.
He counted six steps.
Then stopped.
“Here.”
He moved an old cabinet.
Underneath it was a steel plate.
Arthur knelt.
“Your father built this after Gabriel threatened him.”
Samuel inserted the key.
The floor opened.
Inside was a metal box.
I reached for it.
Arthur grabbed my wrist.
“Wait.”
A click came from the box.
Arthur pulled me backward.
Nothing happened.
He exhaled.
“Pressure trigger.”
Samuel smiled.
“Thomas was paranoid.”
Arthur carefully opened the lid.
Inside were documents.
Cash.
A gun.
A cassette.
And a red notebook.
Arthur picked it up.
His face changed.
“That's Gabriel's handwriting.”
I opened it.
Every page contained names.
But one name appeared hundreds of times.
Leonard Voss.
Then another.
Daniel Rusk.
Then Margaret Doyle.
Then Samuel Hayes.
I looked at my uncle.
“What is this?”
Samuel's face had gone pale.
I turned the page.
At the bottom was a sentence written in my father's handwriting.
THE TRAITOR IS SOMEONE NORAH LOVES.
I looked up.
Samuel was crying.
“You were supposed to be dead,” I whispered.
He shook his head.
“Your father thought I was.”
Arthur stepped toward him.
“You knew.”
Samuel backed away.
“Not everything.”
“You worked for Gabriel.”
“For a while.”
“You helped him.”
Samuel looked at me.
“I helped your father.”
“Did you?”
He lowered his head.
Then he said,
“I was the one who told Gabriel where Thomas was hiding.”
Everything stopped.
I stared at him.
Arthur's gun lifted.
Samuel whispered,
“And I'm not the one who killed him.”
A gunshot exploded through the window.
Samuel's body jerked.
He fell into my arms.
Arthur dragged me behind the wall.
Outside, a black SUV sped away.
I looked down.
Samuel was dying.
He grabbed my hand.
“Norah…”
“What?”
His eyes widened.
“Your mother…”
May you like
He coughed blood.
“She never died.”
