Chapter 7 - THE TRAITOR INSIDE
Nicholas did not sleep.
Neither did Rachel.
By dawn, everyone in the cabin had become a suspect.
Daniel.
Nicholas’s drivers.
His accountants.
His lawyers.
Men who had worked beside him for twenty years.
Diane sat near the fireplace, hands wrapped around untouched coffee.
Rachel paced.
“If the killer is still inside your organization, going back to Chicago is dangerous.”
Nicholas adjusted his cuff.
“Staying here is more dangerous. They know about the cabin.”
Daniel entered carrying a tablet.
“We checked the bank tied to the key. Private vault. Wabash Avenue.”
Rachel looked at her mother.
“Why didn’t Dad put the evidence in the cabin?”
“He wanted two separate trails.”
Diane’s voice softened.
“One for you. One for whoever survived long enough to help you.”
Nicholas gave a humorless smile.
“Optimistic man.”
“He liked you.”
Nicholas looked at her.
Diane nodded.
“You were sixteen when he met you. Antonio brought you to the lake once.”
Nicholas remembered almost nothing about that summer.
Except a man teaching him how to tie a fishing knot.
Thomas Bennett.
Rachel noticed the change in his face.
“You knew my father.”
“I didn’t remember.”
But now he did.
They entered Chicago through three vehicle changes and a service tunnel beneath a Valenti-owned hotel.
At the bank, Nicholas allowed only Rachel, Diane, and Daniel downstairs.
The box required two keys.
Diane had one.
Rachel stared.
“Where’s the second?”
Diane looked at Nicholas.
“Antonio’s son has it.”
Nicholas slowly removed a chain from around his neck.
A tiny brass key hung beside a silver cross.
“My father gave me this the week he died.”
The box opened.
Inside was a cassette recorder, a ledger, and a photograph.
Rachel inserted the cassette.
Static filled the private room.
Then Thomas Bennett’s voice.
“If you’re hearing this, we failed.”
Rachel covered her mouth.
Her father continued.
“The money is not the real crime. The money funds judges, police officers, contractors, and politicians. Northstar is a control network.”
Nicholas’s eyes darkened.
Then another voice spoke on the recording.
Antonio Valenti.
“We have a name.”
Thomas answered.
“Say it.”
Antonio did.
But at that exact moment, the recording distorted.
A loud scrape drowned the word.
Rachel cursed.
Then Thomas said something else.
“He wears the Valenti name, but he is not blood.”
Nicholas went completely still.
There were only three senior men in his organization permitted to use the Valenti name publicly.
Nicholas.
His uncle Roberto.
And his godfather, Vincent Caruso, who ran operations for the family.
Daniel’s phone buzzed.
He read the message.
His face changed.
“What?”
Nicholas asked.
Daniel turned the screen.
Security footage showed someone entering Nicholas’s Gold Coast residence twenty minutes earlier.
May you like
Vincent Caruso.
And beside him was Evan Cole.
