Chapter 2 - THE WOMAN WHO RULED THE HOUSE FROM HER GRAVE
Arthur Costello's mother had been dead for twelve years.
At least, that was what everyone believed.
Her portrait hung above the grand staircase, a beautiful woman in a dark green gown wearing a pearl necklace and a smile that never reached her eyes.
Her name was Evelyn Costello.
And according to Arthur, she had ruled the family before his father became its official leader.
I stared at him.
"My father was afraid of your mother?"
Arthur nodded.
"That's what Samuel said."
I shook my head.
"My father was an accountant."
Arthur looked up sharply.
"An accountant?"
"He worked for a shipping company."
"What company?"
I hesitated.
"Lakefront Logistics."
Arthur slowly closed his eyes.
My stomach tightened.
"What?"
He looked toward me.
"That company belonged to my family."
For several seconds, neither of us spoke.
Then I whispered, "You knew my father?"
Arthur shook his head.
"Not personally."
"Then how do you know the company?"
"Because my mother used it to move money between businesses."
I looked down at the key.
Suddenly, my father's quiet life didn't seem so ordinary.
He had worked late.
Kept meticulous records.
And warned me never to accept money from people who asked for favors without explaining what they wanted.
I thought those were simply lessons from a cautious father.
Now they sounded like warnings.
Arthur stood.
"You need to leave this house."
My heart stopped.
"Are you firing me?"
"No."
"Then what?"
He looked toward the door.
"Someone here may know who your father was."
I swallowed.
"And that's dangerous?"
"Possibly."
I folded my arms.
"I can't just leave."
Arthur frowned.
"Why?"
"Because I need my paycheck."
He looked at me.
For the first time, he seemed to understand something about poverty that had never entered his world.
I continued.
"My rent is overdue. My father's medical bills are still being collected. I don't have relatives waiting to take me in."
Arthur lowered his head.
Then said quietly:
"I'll make sure you're paid for your work and help arrange somewhere safe if you want it."
I stared.
"I don't want charity."
"Then we'll discuss the terms with your own attorney."
That surprised me.
A man who controlled half of Chicago was offering to let me make my own decisions.
Perhaps he wasn't entirely the monster everyone described.
Or perhaps he was simply better at hiding it.
Before I could answer, footsteps sounded outside.
Heavy.
Purposeful.
Arthur's expression changed.
Someone knocked.
"Mr. Costello?"
The voice belonged to Mrs. Whitcomb, the head housekeeper.
Arthur looked toward me.
Then quietly said:
"Don't mention the key."
He opened the door.
Mrs. Whitcomb stood in the hallway wearing her perfectly pressed gray uniform.
Her eyes moved from Arthur's bloodstained shirt to my bed.
Then to the bedside table.
Where the brass key lay.
Her face went white.
For one second, she looked as though she'd seen a ghost.
Then she whispered:
"Daniel Hayes."
Arthur went still.
"You knew him?"
Mrs. Whitcomb didn't answer.
Instead, she looked directly at me.
May you like
And spoke six words that made my heart stop.
"Your father was never supposed to die."
