Chapter 12 - The Woman Behind the Fire
Isabella DeLuca had spent eighteen years believing money could purchase silence.
She had paid lawyers.
Influenced business partners.
Hidden assets behind legitimate companies.
And carefully cultivated the reputation of a grieving widow devoted to her only daughter.
But she had made one mistake.
She underestimated Beatrice Gallagher.
By Monday morning, Beatrice had reconstructed enough of the fraudulent transfers to identify thirteen shell companies and an elaborate chain of payments.
Arthur brought the records to a federal prosecutor through his attorney.
Leo gave a full statement about the warehouse.
Tommy surrendered the hard drive.
And Isabella disappeared.
Camila sat in Arthur's office, clutching a cup of coffee she hadn't touched.
“My mother called me last night,” she whispered.
“What did she say?” Leo asked.
“She told me to come with her.”
“Where?”
“She wouldn't say.”
Beatrice looked up from her laptop.
“Did she mention Robert?”
Camila hesitated.
“Yes.”
Arthur leaned forward.
“What did she say?”
“That Robert made promises he couldn't keep.”
Beatrice felt a sudden chill.
“What kind of promises?”
Camila's eyes filled with tears.
“She said he was supposed to make sure Daniel Gallagher never came back.”
Arthur's phone rang.
His security director spoke urgently.
They had found Isabella's abandoned car near Lake Michigan.
Inside were her purse, a broken phone, and a note.
YOU SHOULD HAVE LEFT THE PAST BURIED.
Arthur listened carefully.
Then he asked, “Any sign of her?”
“No, sir. But we found another vehicle on the cameras.”
“Whose?”
The answer made him go still.
A vehicle registered to Carmichael Logistics.
Richard Spatafora's former executive car.
But Richard was in federal custody.
Arthur turned to Beatrice.
“Someone else is moving the pieces.”
Beatrice opened the transaction spreadsheet.
She searched for payments made during the previous twenty-four hours.
One account had been emptied.
Two million dollars.
The destination was an international holding company.
Its registered director was listed as Robert Costello.
“Arthur,” she said, “look.”
He came around the desk.
The transfer authorization was timestamped 3:17 a.m.
That morning.
“Robert is alive,” Arthur said.
Beatrice shook her head.
“More than that. He's still managing the money.”
Leo approached.
“Then he must be working with someone inside the company.”
Beatrice looked at the authorization code.
It required two signatures.
One belonged to Robert.
The other belonged to Arthur Costello.
Arthur stared at the screen.
“I didn't approve that transfer.”
“I know.”
“How?”
“Because the authorization used your old security credentials. You replaced them six months ago.”
She enlarged the record.
“The old credentials were assigned to a terminal in your father's former office.”
Arthur's expression changed.
“That office has been locked for years.”
“Who has access?”
Arthur answered softly.
“Only family.”
Before anyone could speak, the office door opened.
A man in a dark suit stepped inside.
His hair was silver.
His face was deeply lined.
But Beatrice recognized him from the photographs.
Robert Costello.
Arthur stood motionless.
“Uncle Robert?”
The older man smiled.
“Hello, boys.”
Then he looked directly at Beatrice.
“You've become quite a nuisance, Miss Gallagher.”
He reached into his coat.
Arthur stepped in front of her.
But Robert withdrew only a folded letter.
May you like
“I didn't come to fight,” he said.
“I came to tell you where Daniel Gallagher is buried.”
