Chapter 5 - The Secret Beneath Pier Nineteen
“Take me to Pier Nineteen.”
Arthur stopped dancing.
Around them, the orchestra continued playing, but his attention had narrowed to the note in Beatrice's hand.
“Not tonight.”
“Why?”
“Because whoever gave you that message wants you frightened.”
“Then they're doing an excellent job.”
Arthur guided her away from the dance floor.
In the hallway beyond the ballroom, Beatrice pulled her hand free.
“You knew my father.”
“I knew a man who claimed to be him.”
“You knew about the ledger.”
“Yes.”
“And you knew about the pier.”
Arthur looked toward the closed doors.
“Beatrice, there are things I haven't told you because I wasn't certain they were true.”
“Then tell me what you are certain about.”
He took a slow breath.
“Eighteen years ago, Pier Nineteen burned.”
She remembered reading something about that fire.
Three dockworkers had died.
A warehouse had been destroyed.
The investigation concluded that faulty electrical equipment caused the blaze.
“My father was supposed to be there,” Arthur continued. “So was yours.”
Beatrice felt a chill.
“Your father?”
“Vittorio Costello.”
“Was he killed?”
“No. He survived the fire. He died six years later.”
Arthur's expression darkened.
“But he spent those six years insisting the fire was deliberate.”
“Who started it?”
“We never proved who gave the order.”
“What was in the warehouse?”
“Shipping records. Cash transfers. Evidence of stolen cargo moving through companies my father controlled.”
Beatrice swallowed.
“And the ledger?”
“Your father was a forensic accountant working for Vittorio. He discovered someone was moving millions through false shipping accounts.”
“Someone in your family?”
Arthur hesitated.
“Yes.”
Before she could ask another question, footsteps sounded behind them.
Richard Spatafora appeared at the end of the hallway.
“There you are,” he said pleasantly. “Everyone's looking for the groom's brother.”
Arthur stepped in front of Beatrice.
“What do you want, Richard?”
“Just making sure our honored guest is enjoying herself.”
Beatrice looked directly at him.
“Where's Tommy?”
Richard blinked.
“I'm afraid I don't know who—”
“My brother. You met with him yesterday.”
His smile faded.
Arthur turned slowly.
“Did you?”
Richard adjusted his cuffs.
“I meet with many people.”
“Then you won't mind showing me your office security footage.”
For a moment, Richard looked cornered.
Then he laughed.
“Arthur, surely you don't think I'd conduct sensitive conversations where cameras could record them.”
Beatrice watched his face.
He was lying.
She knew because he'd used exactly the same expression when she'd confronted him about the missing company funds.
Suddenly, music stopped inside the ballroom.
A woman's scream followed.
Arthur pushed open the doors.
Guests were gathering near the head table.
Camila stood frozen beside her wedding cake.
Leo hurried toward them.
And on the enormous screen behind the bride and groom, where their engagement photographs had been displayed, a new image appeared.
An old warehouse.
Pier Nineteen.
Beneath it, a message flashed in white letters.
VITTORIO COSTELLO DIDN'T ORDER THE FIRE.
Then the image changed.
It showed Daniel Gallagher standing beside a younger Isabella DeLuca.
May you like
And beneath their photograph were four words.
ASK THE BRIDE'S MOTHER.
