Chapter 7 - THE WOMAN WHO WATCHED DANIEL DIE
Evelyn Rinaldi lived in a quiet suburb outside Chicago.
White house.
Blue shutters.
A small garden.
Nothing about the property suggested that her husband was suspected of helping conceal a multimillion-dollar criminal conspiracy.
Detective Bennett arranged an interview.
Peter wasn't invited.
Neither was I.
But Evelyn agreed to speak with me after consulting her attorney.
She entered the meeting room wearing a pale gray sweater.
Her hands trembled.
“Mara Ellis?”
I nodded.
“You knew Daniel?”
Her eyes filled with tears.
“Yes.”
I leaned forward.
“How?”
“He contacted me about Vincent.”
My stomach tightened.
She swallowed.
“He knew my husband was involved in something illegal. He wanted evidence.”
“Did you give him anything?”
Evelyn nodded.
“Financial statements. Account numbers. Copies of old messages.”
Tears blurred my vision.
Daniel had been risking his life.
And I hadn't known.
“I met him the night he died,” she whispered.
My hands began shaking.
“Where?”
“At a gas station outside Joliet.”
I remembered the police report.
Daniel's ambulance had been found wrecked on a highway near Joliet.
Evelyn continued.
“He told me he was going to the authorities.”
I swallowed.
“And then?”
“He left.”
I stared.
“That's all?”
Evelyn shook her head.
“There was another car.”
My heart stopped.
“What car?”
“A black SUV.”
She looked down.
“Vincent was driving.”
I covered my mouth.
The room began spinning.
For eighteen months, I'd imagined Daniel losing control on a wet road.
Now I saw a black SUV following him through the darkness.
Evelyn began crying.
“I tried to warn him.”
My voice broke.
“Did you call?”
“Yes. He didn't answer.”
Detective Bennett asked for the call records.
Evelyn agreed to provide them.
Then she looked directly at me.
“Mara, there's something else.”
I wiped my eyes.
“What?”
“Vincent didn't know Daniel had already copied the evidence.”
I stared.
“He did.”
Evelyn nodded.
“And he told me where he hid the original documents.”
My heart raced.
“Where?”
She reached into her handbag.
Then removed a small photograph.
It showed an old brick church.
St. Anthony's.
The church where Daniel and I were married.
My breath caught.
Evelyn turned the photograph over.
On the back was a handwritten message.
MARA KNOWS THE PLACE.
I began shaking.
Then I remembered something.
On our wedding day, Daniel had shown me a little room behind the chapel.
He'd joked that if we ever needed to hide from the world, we'd go there.
I looked up.
“There's a storage room behind the altar.”
Evelyn nodded.
Then whispered:
“And Daniel rented a safety deposit box under the church's charitable foundation.”
My heart pounded.
“What was inside?”
Evelyn's face turned pale.
“The original trust documents.”
May you like
She hesitated.
“And a confession recorded by the man who ordered his death.”
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