Chapter 4 - THE FAMILY SECRET UNDER THE SNOW
My parents died when I was nineteen.
That was the story I told people.
A winter collision outside Helena.
Two vehicles.
Black ice.
No survivors.
I buried them together.
I visited their graves every Christmas.
For seven years, I believed the worst thing that had happened to my family was a terrible accident.
Now Adrien Mancini was telling me there had been an investigation.
I stared at him.
"Why wasn't I told?"
He looked uncomfortable.
"I don't know."
"That's not good enough."
"No," he admitted. "It isn't."
Lucia brought a folder into the sitting room.
"We found records connected to Robert Bennett."
I stood carefully, still dizzy from my concussion.
Adrien moved toward me.
I raised a hand.
"I'm okay."
He stopped.
Lucia opened the folder.
My father's photograph appeared.
Older than I remembered.
He wore a dark suit and stood outside a shipping facility.
Beneath the picture was a company name.
MANCINI LOGISTICS.
My heart hammered.
"Dad worked for you?"
Adrien shook his head.
"He worked for my father."
I looked at the dates.
My father had left that company two years before his death.
"Why did he leave?"
Lucia hesitated.
"He discovered inconsistencies in several freight contracts."
"What kind?"
"Missing equipment. False invoices. Unauthorized transfers."
I stared.
"Was he stealing?"
"No," Adrien said firmly.
"Then what happened?"
Lucia looked down.
"He reported his concerns."
I felt sick.
"To whom?"
"Adrien's father."
I turned toward him.
He looked away.
For several seconds, nobody spoke.
Then Adrien said, "My father promised to protect him."
I felt cold.
"And did he?"
Adrien's jaw tightened.
"Not well enough."
I sat slowly.
My mother had been an elementary school librarian.
She loved gardening and old movies.
She hated arguments.
The idea that she'd been caught inside some criminal dispute made me feel physically ill.
"Why would anyone hurt her?"
Lucia's eyes softened.
"She may have known something about the records."
I closed my eyes.
Then a memory returned.
The night before my parents died, Mom gave me a small silver bracelet.
It had three interlocking lines engraved on the clasp.
The same symbol as the envelope.
I looked toward my wrist.
The bracelet was still there.
I'd worn it for seven years.
Adrien noticed.
His expression changed.
"Madison."
I looked up.
"What?"
"Where did you get that?"
"My mother."
He stepped closer.
"May I see it?"
I hesitated.
Then extended my hand.
He examined the engraving without removing it.
His face drained.
"Lucia."
She approached.
Then froze.
"Oh, God."
My heart pounded.
"What?"
Lucia whispered, "That's the Mancini family archive symbol."
I stared at them.
Adrien looked into my eyes.
"Your mother wasn't simply wearing a family souvenir."
I swallowed.
"Then what is it?"
He took a breath.
May you like
"That bracelet may be the key to the records my father hid before he died."
And suddenly, the only piece of jewelry my mother left me had become the most dangerous thing I owned.
