Chapter 4 - THE MAN WHO ORDERED HER DEATH
Ethan didn't lower his gun.
“My father died nine years ago.”
Derek nodded.
“I know.”
“Then explain yourself.”
Derek looked at me.
“Your mother discovered something she wasn't supposed to know.”
“What?”
“She found out your father's shipping company wasn't just moving legitimate cargo.”
I felt sick.
“My father?”
“Yes.”
“What was he moving?”
Derek hesitated.
“People.”
I stared at him.
“You already told me my mother helped move witnesses.”
“She did.”
“Then what changed?”
Derek's voice dropped.
“Your father started moving people for money.”
My stomach turned.
Ethan looked furious.
“You're saying my uncle—”
“I’m saying Jane's father became involved with the same people your family was fighting.”
I shook my head.
“My father wasn't like that.”
Derek looked at me.
“That's what your mother believed too.”
He explained that my mother discovered a hidden network inside my father's shipping operation.
Containers were being used to move witnesses, stolen records, and sometimes people who were being forced into hiding.
At first, my mother believed my father was helping.
Then she discovered money changing hands.
She confronted him.
He denied everything.
Then she found proof.
“Why didn't she go to the police?”
Derek gave a bitter laugh.
“Because some of the police were already compromised.”
Ethan looked at him.
“Who?”
Derek didn't answer.
Instead, he looked at me.
“Your mother decided to disappear with you.”
I remembered being twelve.
The sudden move.
The locked doors.
My mother crying in the kitchen.
My father telling me everything would be fine.
Then her death.
A car accident.
That was the story.
Derek continued.
“She had arranged to leave Chicago.”
“With me?”
“Yes.”
“Why didn't she?”
“She never made it.”
My hands trembled.
“Who killed her?”
Derek looked at Ethan.
“Your father's men.”
Ethan lowered his gun.
“No.”
Derek nodded.
“I know what you're thinking.”
“My father would never order that.”
“He did.”
Ethan's jaw tightened.
“Proof.”
Derek reached inside his coat.
Ethan raised his gun again.
Derek slowly pulled out a small notebook.
He tossed it onto the table.
I opened it.
It contained handwritten instructions.
My father's name appeared at the bottom.
So did a date.
The date was the day before my mother's death.
My heart broke.
But something was wrong.
I looked closer.
The handwriting wasn't my father's.
I knew his handwriting.
I had seen it on birthday cards.
Old letters.
Notes he left around the house.
“This isn't his handwriting.”
Derek froze.
Ethan took the notebook.
He stared at it.
“You're right.”
Derek's face changed.
“Then someone forged it.”
“Exactly.”
A new silence settled over the room.
Derek looked frightened.
“Then we're back where we started.”
“No,” I said.
Both men looked at me.
I pointed to the bottom of the page.
“There.”
A tiny symbol.
A triangle with a line through it.
Ethan stared.
“I've seen that.”
“Where?”
“On the Russo records.”
Derek shook his head.
“No.”
Ethan looked at him.
“What?”
“That symbol belonged to someone inside your father's organization.”
“Who?”
Derek swallowed.
“Your father's accountant.”
“Evan?”
“Yes.”
I remembered the name.
The man from the old files.
The man who had disappeared.
“Where is he?”
Derek shook his head.
“Dead.”
Ethan frowned.
“How?”
“Three years ago.”
I looked at the notebook.
“Then how did this symbol appear?”
Derek had no answer.
Suddenly, a loud crack echoed outside.
Glass shattered.
Ethan pulled me behind him.
Brian's voice came through the radio.
“Boss, we have movement at the west gate.”
Ethan grabbed Derek.
“Were you followed?”
“No.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes.”
Ethan looked at me.
“Stay here.”
But I was done obeying without understanding.
“I am not staying behind another locked door.”
He looked at me.
“You don't understand what's happening.”
“Then explain it.”
He took a breath.
“The Russos aren't trying to kill you.”
“I know.”
“They're trying to find something your mother left behind.”
“The locket?”
“No.”
“Then what?”
He looked at the photograph of my mother.
“Your mother hid a ledger.”
I froze.
“What ledger?”
“The original records of the shipping operation.”
“Where?”
“We don't know.”
Derek stepped forward.
“I know.”
Ethan turned.
“You do?”
Derek nodded.
“Your mother gave it to someone before she died.”
“Who?”
Derek looked at me.
“You.”
I laughed in disbelief.
“I was twelve.”
“She hid it with you.”
“Where?”
Derek stared at the locket.
“Inside something you never stopped carrying.”
I opened the locket.
Nothing.
Then I noticed the photograph inside wasn't the original.
There was a thin second layer beneath it.
I carefully lifted it.
A tiny strip of paper appeared.
Three words.
BLUEBIRD HOTEL. ROOM 17.
Ethan stared.
“That hotel was demolished.”
Derek shook his head.
“No.”
“It closed.”
“It was sold.”
“Same thing.”
“No.”
Derek looked at me.
“The building still exists.”
My pulse accelerated.
“What is there?”
Derek answered quietly.
“The room where your mother was supposed to meet Evan Brooks the night she died.”
Ethan looked at me.
Then at the paper.
“We're going.”
“No,” Brian said through the radio.
Everyone turned.
Brian entered the room.
His face was pale.
“Boss, the west gate wasn't attacked.”
“What happened?”
Brian looked at me.
“They left something.”
He placed a small brown envelope on the table.
Inside was a single object.
A blue ribbon.
I recognized it immediately.
It had belonged to my mother.
And attached to it was a note.
ROOM 17 ISN'T EMPTY.
Ethan stared at the words.
May you like
Then Brian added,
“Someone is waiting for her.”
