Chapter 4 - THE BOY IN THE BASEMENT
The name on the bottom of the mug was Elias Reynolds.
Arthur lowered the gun by an inch. His hands began to shake.
“Where did you get that name?” Arthur whispered.
“It was hidden on my wife’s coffee cup,” Luca said, his voice steady, though I could see the tension in his shoulders. “Who is Elias, Arthur?”
Arthur didn’t answer. He stared at the mug like it was a live grenade.
I looked at Maria. She had stopped crying. She was staring at the name with absolute confusion.
“Arthur,” Maria said softly. “David’s wife... she lost the baby after the accident. You told us she miscarried from the grief.”
Arthur squeezed his eyes shut.
“She didn’t miscarry,” I realized out loud.
Everyone looked at me.
“You lied to Salvatore,” I said, piecing it together. “You used the pregnant wife to get the house put in the trust. But the baby was born.”
Arthur swallowed hard. He raised the gun again, but his conviction was fracturing.
“Elias is my nephew,” Arthur said, his voice trembling. “David’s son. He’s twenty-eight years old now. And he deserves this house!”
“Then why hide him?” Luca demanded, taking a step forward. “If my father owed your family, why didn’t you just take the money?”
“Because Salvatore Romano didn’t pay debts!” Arthur shouted. “He eliminated problems! If he knew the boy survived, he would have made sure Elias never saw a dime. He would have ruined him just like he ruined David!”
Luca looked down at the safety deposit box number on the bottom of the mug.
“My wife knew,” Luca said quietly.
Arthur flinched.
“Anna figured it out,” Luca continued, the pieces clicking together in his mind. “When she was dying of cancer, she was going through my father’s old financial records. She found the trust. She found Elias.”
“She came to me,” Arthur confessed, his voice dropping to a harsh whisper.
Maria gasped. “Anna knew about the accident?”
“She knew everything,” Arthur said. “Anna was a good woman, Luca. Too good for your family. When she found out what your father did, she was horrified. She wanted to give the house to Elias.”
“Then why didn’t she tell me?” Luca asked, the betrayal evident in his voice.
“Because I told her not to!” Arthur snapped. “I told her that if you knew your sister was a murderer, it would destroy you. I told her to leave it alone.”
Arthur pointed the gun at the coffee mug.
“But she wouldn’t let it go. She set up a safety deposit box. She put the truth inside it. And she told me that if I ever tried to hurt you, she would make sure Elias found out exactly what kind of coward his uncle really is.”
Luca stared at his oldest friend.
“So you started drugging me,” Luca said.
The words hung in the heavy air of the study.
“When I decided to sell the house, you panicked,” Luca said, his voice dropping to a dangerous, terrifying calm. “You couldn’t let the house go to a stranger. You needed it for Elias. But you couldn’t just ask me for it, because then you’d have to explain why.”
Arthur backed away toward the door.
“I was protecting my nephew’s inheritance,” Arthur reasoned desperately.
“You made me think I was losing my mind,” Luca said, taking another step. “You let my son watch me collapse. You let my sister believe she was helping me rest.”
“It was just a sedative!”
“It was my life!” Luca roared.
The sheer force of his voice made Arthur stumble backward against the doorframe.
Anthony moved then.
Fast. Faster than a sixty-eight-year-old lawyer could react.
Anthony lunged across the desk, grabbing Arthur’s wrist and twisting it upward. The gun went off, the bullet burying itself harmlessly into the plaster ceiling.
I grabbed Maria and pulled her behind the heavy leather armchair.
Luca ripped the gun out of Arthur’s hand and threw it across the room. He grabbed Arthur by the collar of his expensive suit and slammed him against the oak paneling.
“Where is the safety deposit box?” Luca demanded.
Arthur was gasping for air. “It’s... it’s at the downtown branch. First National.”
Luca let him go. Arthur slid down the wall, clutching his chest.
“Call the police, Anthony,” Luca said.
“No!” Maria screamed, running out from behind the chair. She grabbed Luca’s arm. “Luca, please! If the police come, they’ll look into the accident. They’ll arrest me.”
Luca looked down at his sister.
For twenty-eight years, she had carried the guilt of killing a man. For twenty-eight years, she had hidden in this house, terrified of the world, terrified of the ghost in the driveway.
Luca looked at me.
“Rebecca.”
“Yes?”
“Pack your medical bag. We’re leaving.”
“Where are we going?” I asked.
Luca reached into his pocket and pulled out his car keys.
“We’re going to the bank. I want to see what my wife left in that box.”
“The bank is closed,” Arthur wheezed from the floor. “It’s 10:00 PM on a Sunday.”
Luca looked at him with absolute disdain.
“I own the bank, Arthur.”
Luca turned and walked out of the study.
Anthony stayed behind, standing over Arthur.
I grabbed my bag and followed Luca out to the driveway.
The rain had started to fall, washing over the exact spot where David Reynolds had died.
Luca stopped by his Mercedes.
He looked down at the wet asphalt.
Then he looked at me.
“You’re a nurse, Rebecca,” Luca said quietly.
“Yes.”
“When a man is crushed by a car against a stone wall, how long does he live?”
I hesitated. “It depends on the internal injuries. But usually... minutes. Sometimes seconds.”
Luca nodded slowly in the rain.
“Arthur said David died in his arms,” Luca murmured. “But Arthur didn’t live here. He lived twenty minutes away.”
My stomach dropped.
Luca opened the car door.
May you like
“My sister didn’t kill David Reynolds,” Luca said. “And I’m going to prove it.”
TITLE: The TRUTH IN THE VAULT
