Chapter 4 - MY MOTHER'S WARNING
Vincent saw the suspicion on my face.
“Oh, for God’s sake.”
I folded the letter.
“What?”
“She writes ‘don’t trust everyone,’ and suddenly you look at me like I’m carrying a knife.”
“Are you?”
“No.”
“Then we’re off to a good start.”
Roman took the letter and read it twice.
“What else is in the box?”
Recipe cards.
Dozens of them.
My mother’s handwriting covered every card.
Beef stew.
Apple pie.
Sunday gravy.
But mixed among the recipes were strange numbers.
Dates.
Initials.
Payments.
Roman’s expression hardened.
“These aren’t recipes.”
“No kidding. I’ve never seen lasagna call for forty thousand dollars.”
Vincent took one card.
“These are transactions.”
Roman looked at him.
“From my father’s organization.”
Suddenly the little room felt smaller.
According to Roman, Eleanor had discovered someone stealing from the Duca family decades earlier.
Not a few thousand dollars.
Millions.
The thief was moving money through businesses and blaming rival crews, creating conflicts that had gotten people hurt.
My mother had collected proof.
Before she could expose anyone, she disappeared.
“She didn’t disappear,” I said. “She moved to Pennsylvania. Married my dad. Had me.”
Roman nodded.
“And never contacted us again.”
“Maybe because she was terrified.”
“She was.”
“How do you know?”
Roman looked toward the old staircase.
“Because the night she left, someone tried to kill her.”
My stomach dropped.
He explained that a car had followed my mother from Ravenwood.
She escaped after crashing near the state line.
After that, nobody in the family saw her again.
Except Roman had never believed she was dead.
“Why keep searching?”
Roman’s answer came quietly.
“Because I owed her my life.”
Before I could ask what that meant, a sharp smell reached me.
Gas.
I turned.
Roman smelled it too.
“Move.”
We raced upstairs.
Smoke was already pouring from the kitchen.
One burner had been opened without a flame.
Another had been deliberately ignited beside a stack of towels.
Vincent grabbed an extinguisher.
Roman shut off the gas.
I pulled the fire alarm.
Within minutes, the danger was contained.
Nobody was injured.
But that wasn’t what frightened me.
I had personally checked every burner before coming downstairs.
Someone had entered the kitchen while we were below.
Benny appeared in the doorway.
“Maggie?”
“I’m fine.”
He looked at the burned towels, then toward Roman.
His friendly face vanished.
“Who did this?”
Roman didn’t answer.
He didn’t need to.
Someone inside Ravenwood knew about the room.
May you like
Someone knew about my mother.
And whoever had waited twenty-two years for the red coat to return had just made their first move.
