Chapter 3 - MY BROTHER HAD SEEN SOMETHING IN THE BASEMENT
I called Eli from the private room.
He did not answer.
Again.
Nothing.
I texted:
ARE YOU SAFE?
Three dots.
Then:
YES. WHY?
Relief hit so hard I nearly sat down.
I typed:
DID YOU WORK AT THE RESTAURANT LAST YEAR?
Long pause.
Then:
WHO TOLD YOU?
My throat tightened.
Not denial.
Confirmation.
I replied:
CALL ME.
He did.
Video.
Because phone calls were difficult for him.
I signed:
TELL ME THE TRUTH.
Eli stared.
Then looked away.
I DIDN’T WANT YOU INVOLVED.
I almost laughed from anger.
INVOLVED IN WHAT?
He swallowed.
Then:
THE BASEMENT WASN’T STORAGE.
Frederick tried to leave the room.
Salvatore’s man blocked him again.
I kept my eyes on Eli.
WHAT WAS DOWN THERE?
COMPUTERS.
“What computers?”
Eli signed.
BETTING. MONEY. NAMES.
My chest tightened.
Illegal gambling?
Maybe.
Then:
THEY USED RESTAURANT EMPLOYEES.
How?
Eli explained.
Frederick had hired undocumented workers and financially desperate staff through fake payroll companies.
Some employees were paid normally.
Others had hours shifted through shell vendors.
The missing wages moved into accounts controlled by Adrian Vale’s network.
Wage theft.
Tax fraud.
Maybe money laundering.
Eli discovered accidentally.
He had been doing freelance design for a catering company.
They asked him to update digital menu screens in the basement.
He saw spreadsheets.
Employee names.
Amounts.
Mine.
I froze.
MY NAME?
Eli nodded.
YOU WERE LISTED AS MANAGEMENT.
I laughed once.
“I’m a waitress.”
Apparently on paper, I was more.
A shell staffing company listed me as an authorized supervisor.
Signature?
Forged.
My identity had been used.
Why?
Because I had clean credit.
No criminal record.
Four years stable employment.
Maybe they used staff information to open payroll accounts.
Eli took photographs.
Then Adrian discovered him.
The hit-and-run happened three days later.
Eli believed it was warning.
Why not police?
He tried.
He gave an officer partial information.
Then somebody contacted him.
Who?
He signed one name.
COLIN DRAKE.
Salvatore went completely still.
The same man?
No.
Adrian tried to kill Salvatore’s brother.
Colin might connect law enforcement? Let's continue.
Colin Drake was a detective.
I remembered name from Eli’s accident case.
He was the officer who told us traffic cameras had “malfunctioned.”
My stomach dropped.
Eli said Colin told him:
“Drop the basement story and focus on healing.”
Then:
“He said Hannah works there. You don’t want her losing her job.”
They threatened me.
Eli stayed quiet.
I felt furious.
At him.
At myself.
At everyone.
Then Salvatore signed:
COLIN DRAKE WORKS FOR ADRIAN.
How did he know?
His brother Matteo had been shot outside a club two years earlier.
The investigation collapsed.
Evidence disappeared.
Colin had handled chain of custody.
Salvatore suspected corruption.
He had been trying to prove it.
Now restaurant basement connected.
Then Caleb? No, use Salvatore's advisor Luca maybe. One of his men, Tomas.
Tomas brought security records.
The basement door required code.
Access logs:
Frederick.
Brett.
Adrian Vale.
Colin Drake.
And—
Hannah Brooks.
My name.
I stared.
“I have never been down there.”
Frederick finally spoke.
“You’re lying.”
“No.”
“You used your code thirty-two times.”
“I don’t have a code.”
Brett looked at me.
Then whispered:
“They used your employee number.”
Of course.
Identity.
Access.
If police raided basement, logs could point at me.
Same reason Brett wanted me humiliated into quitting?
Maybe if I left voluntarily, they could later blame missing money on disgruntled former employee.
My stomach turned.
Salvatore signed:
YOU WERE THE EXIT PLAN.
Exactly.
I looked at Frederick.
“How much is in my name?”
He said nothing.
Brett answered:
“Almost nine hundred thousand.”
I stopped breathing.
“What?”
Accounts tied to my identity had processed $900,000.
If authorities discovered, I could look like part of laundering scheme.
Four years of keeping my head down had made me useful.
Nobody expected waitress to investigate.
Then Eli signed from phone:
HANNAH, THERE’S MORE.
“What?”
He looked terrified.
I DIDN’T TAKE PICTURES ONLY.
“What did you take?”
A drive.
He copied basement data.
Where?
He had hidden it after accident.
Not in apartment.
Not with me.
Then Salvatore signed:
WHERE?
Eli hesitated.
I shook my head.
DON’T SAY ON PHONE.
Good.
Then behind Eli on video, his apartment door moved.
Someone was knocking.
Three heavy knocks.
Eli froze.
My entire body tightened.
He turned camera.
Through peephole:
Colin Drake.
The detective.
Standing outside my brother’s door.
Then my phone buzzed.
Unknown number.
Message:
HANNAH, TELL YOUR BROTHER TO OPEN THE DOOR.
Second:
OR WE COME THROUGH IT.
I looked at Salvatore.
His face changed.
May you like
Then he signed:
NOW THIS IS MY PROBLEM TOO.
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