Chapter 10 - The Secret Beneath the Boston Property
Federal investigators moved faster after the kidnapping call.
Or possible kidnapping.
Nobody could prove Dad had been taken.
But abandoning his car and making a whispered phone call convinced even the skeptical people in the room that waiting was dangerous.
The Boston closing was frozen temporarily.
That bought us hours.
Maybe.
Roman stood in his study staring at Luca’s old photograph.
I entered quietly.
“You don't have to tell me anything.”
“I know.”
He remained silent.
Then:
“Luca kept a journal.”
I waited.
“I found it after he disappeared.”
“What did it say?”
“Mostly business.”
“Mostly?”
“Near the end, he kept mentioning a man he called ‘the Senator.’”
My heartbeat picked up.
“Whitmore?”
“I never knew.”
The second ledger listed Senator Charles Whitmore.
Roman turned.
“Luca believed someone was using construction contracts to move money through legitimate companies.”
“Like Miller Development.”
“Yes.”
“Did Victor work for Whitmore?”
“I assumed Victor worked for himself.”
“Maybe he worked for both.”
Roman nodded.
We pulled the second ledger.
Whitmore’s name appeared fourteen times.
Payments spanning five years.
The earliest dated seventeen years ago.
Around the time Luca disappeared.
“This isn't Dad’s ledger,” I said.
Roman frowned.
“What?”
“The first half might be.”
I flipped through pages.
“The handwriting changes.”
Marcus confirmed it.
Different ink.
Different paper aging.
The ledger had existed before Dad became involved.
Thomas Miller hadn't created the scheme.
He had inherited it.
Or joined it.
The Boston project was merely its latest transaction.
“What is beneath the property?” I asked.
Everyone looked at me.
“What?” Gregory said.
“Think about it. Victor doesn't care about the property’s resale value. Whitmore helped secure rezoning. Stephen spent three years inside Miller Development.”
I opened environmental reports.
Something bothered me.
“Why were there three environmental assessments?”
Marcus leaned closer.
“Different firms.”
“Same soil samples.”
“What?”
I compared coordinates.
Identical.
The firms had supposedly drilled at different locations.
They hadn't.
Someone had deliberately prevented testing on part of the site.
Elena called an environmental engineer.
He reviewed the maps remotely.
“There,” he said.
A rectangular section near an abandoned warehouse.
“No samples.”
“Why?”
“Could be inaccessible.”
“It wasn't.”
“Then someone excluded it.”
We found older municipal records.
The warehouse had once belonged to a company called East Coast Chemical Storage.
Closed eighteen years earlier.
Roman became very still.
“Eighteen.”
The same period Luca disappeared.
A historical newspaper archive revealed a fire at the warehouse seventeen years ago.
Records destroyed.
No fatalities officially reported.
The property later sat abandoned until Miller Development purchased it.
My skin prickled.
“What did Luca discover?” I whispered.
Roman didn't answer.
Gregory searched more records.
Then he found a civil complaint filed by a former employee of East Coast Chemical.
The complaint alleged illegal disposal of industrial waste.
It was withdrawn.
The employee vanished from public records.
The attorney who represented the company?
Charles Whitmore.
Before he became a senator.
Roman sat down slowly.
“This wasn't money laundering originally.”
“No,” I said.
“It was cleanup.”
Not environmental cleanup.
Evidence cleanup.
Old contamination could expose illegal dumping.
Illegal dumping could expose companies.
Companies could expose financial connections.
And maybe deaths.
If Luca discovered the network, Victor had silenced him.
Now Boston development threatened to excavate the same property.
Whitmore and Victor needed control.
Dad became useful.
Then disposable.
I looked at Roman.
“Do you think Luca is connected to that site?”
He understood what I meant.
His face hardened.
“I don't know.”
We arranged an emergency independent environmental inspection through attorneys and federal contacts.
By evening, authorities had secured part of the property.
Ground-penetrating radar identified several underground structures not shown on current plans.
Old storage tanks.
Buried containers.
One larger void beneath the warehouse foundation.
Roman didn't go.
Neither did I.
We waited.
At 11:38 p.m., Elena received a call.
Her face changed.
“What?”
She ended the call slowly.
“They found records.”
“What kind?”
“Metal document canisters.”
Roman looked almost disappointed.
Maybe he'd feared something worse.
Maybe he'd hoped for an answer.
Elena continued.
“One container has Costa shipping records.”
Roman froze.
“From when?”
“Seventeen years ago.”
The papers were photographed and sent securely.
Luca’s signature appeared on several.
Then Victor’s.
Then Whitmore’s.
The records showed trucks moving industrial drums under false manifests.
Luca had discovered them.
He had stopped two shipments.
Three days later, he disappeared.
Roman gripped the edge of the table.
I put my hand near his.
Not on it.
Near.
His eyes found mine.
I let him decide.
After a moment, he moved his hand over mine.
Just for a second.
Then the phone rang again.
Dad’s number.
Roman answered this time.
Victor Hale spoke.
“Roman.”
The room went silent.
Roman’s voice was cold.
“Victor.”
“I hear you've been digging up old ground.”
“You should have buried your secrets better.”
Victor laughed.
“Luca said something similar.”
Roman’s hand tightened.
I saw the effort it took him not to react.
Victor continued.
“I have Thomas.”
“Keep him.”
Mom gasped.
Roman ignored her.
“What do you want?”
“You know.”
“Say it.”
“The second ledger.”
Roman looked at me.
Victor added:
“And Sadie Miller.”
Every person in the room went still.
Roman’s answer came immediately.
“No.”
Victor laughed again.
“Still pretending you don't trade people?”
Roman's eyes became ice.
“I don't.”
“You used to.”
“My father did.”
“Blood doesn't change.”
Roman looked at me.
Then said the words I would remember forever.
“Mine did.”
Victor’s voice hardened.
“Bring the ledger and the girl tomorrow.”
“No.”
“Then Thomas dies.”
My stomach twisted.
Victor continued.
“And after that, I'll release enough evidence to make every federal agency in America believe Sadie and Roman Costa built this entire operation together.”
The call ended.
Mom started crying.
Gregory swore.
Roman looked at me.
“You are not going.”
I looked back.
“Your rule.”
His jaw tightened.
“Sadie.”
“If someone chooses to leave, they leave.”
“This is different.”
“Is it?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because you could die.”
I held his gaze.
“So could my father.”
Roman looked furious.
Not controlling.
Terrified.
May you like
And for the first time, I realized the man who never raised his voice was afraid of losing me.
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