Chapter 2 - THE NIGHT BEFORE HIS FATHER DIED
“I think they copied it so nobody would notice when they took the original off your father.”
Maya Torres’s words seemed to empty the room of oxygen.
Anthony DeLuca looked at the fake ring in her palm.
Then at Gabrielle.
Then at Richard Bennett.
His future father-in-law had stopped struggling with the guard holding him.
That frightened Anthony more than resistance.
Men fought when they still believed they could win.
Richard had suddenly started calculating.
“Frank.”
Anthony’s security chief stepped closer.
“Boss.”
“Lock the house.”
Richard laughed once.
“You cannot imprison twenty guests because a housemaid found costume jewelry.”
Anthony did not look at him.
“Nobody leaves.”
Gabrielle’s face hardened.
“Anthony.”
“No phones either.”
“You’ve lost your mind.”
Anthony finally turned.
“My father’s ring was removed the night before he died.”
“You just heard your fiancée admit her father borrowed it.”
“There may be a listening device inside one of the copies.”
“And you think I’m overreacting?”
Gabrielle stared at him.
“You are.”
Anthony’s expression stayed calm.
“Good.”
That was when Gabrielle understood shouting would have been easier.
Maya remained beside the fireplace.
Her cheek had reddened where Gabrielle struck her.
Anthony noticed again.
The anger in him changed direction.
“Maya.”
She looked up.
“Are you hurt?”
“I’m okay.”
Not an answer.
But not the priority yet.
“Tell me everything you noticed.”
Gabrielle scoffed.
“Seriously?”
Anthony looked at her.
“One more interruption and you leave this room with security.”
She stared.
Then shut her mouth.
Maya hesitated.
“I started cleaning the silver cabinet yesterday afternoon.”
“Yes.”
“I found the velvet box wedged behind the polish.”
“Why open it?”
“I thought someone had misplaced jewelry.”
“Then?”
“There were two rings inside.”
“The third?”
“In the back corner behind the drawer.”
Anthony looked at the three copies.
“Did all of them have chips?”
“I didn’t know they opened.”
“Why test this one?”
“The stone shifted after the heat.”
The fire had loosened the tiny mechanism.
Interesting.
Anthony looked toward his security chief.
“Tools.”
Frank brought a pocket flashlight and small screwdriver set.
Maya immediately said:
“Wait.”
Every man looked at her.
She flushed.
Then:
“If there are electronics inside, don’t pry all of them open here.”
Anthony studied her.
“Why?”
“My father used to repair old watches and radio equipment.”
She pointed toward the opened band.
“If somebody installed a transmitter, there may be a power contact, memory component, or tamper switch.”
Frank raised his eyebrows.
Anthony almost smiled.
“You clean silver.”
Maya looked uncomfortable.
“I also finished two semesters of electronics before my father got sick.”
That explained more.
“What happened?”
“He died.”
Her voice changed.
Simple.
Anthony nodded once.
No pity.
Not now.
“Can you tell what the chip does?”
“Not safely.”
“Who can?”
“Someone with equipment.”
Frank said:
“I have a digital forensics guy.”
Anthony nodded.
“Bring him here.”
Richard laughed again.
“Anthony, you’re treating a ring like a federal case.”
Anthony turned toward him.
“My father died twelve hours after you borrowed the original.”
Richard’s face went still.
“That makes it relevant.”
Gabrielle stepped forward.
“Dad borrowed it because he needed measurements.”
“For what?”
Silence.
Anthony waited.
Gabrielle’s eyes moved toward her father.
Bad instinct.
“Copies.”
Anthony said it for her.
“Yes.”
“Why make copies before my father died?”
No answer.
Richard finally spoke.
“Because your father asked me to.”
Anthony almost smiled.
Wrong lie.
“My father hated you.”
Richard’s jaw tightened.
“He tolerated me because Gabrielle loved you.”
“No.”
Anthony shook his head.
“He tolerated you because your concrete company was useful.”
Several men around the table looked away.
Gabrielle’s face flushed.
Anthony continued.
“So try again.”
Richard said:
“Your father wanted duplicate rings made because the original was valuable.”
“Insurance?”
“Yes.”
Maya shook her head.
Richard snapped:
“What?”
She immediately regretted drawing attention.
Anthony did not.
“Say it.”
Maya pointed at the fake ring.
“If this was made for insurance, the jeweler would copy the scratches too.”
Silence.
She continued.
“Or leave the inside smooth.”
“They wouldn’t create random new wear marks.”
Anthony’s eyes narrowed.
“What does that suggest?”
“They were trying to make it look used.”
Frank muttered:
“Like it had been on someone’s hand.”
Exactly.
The room changed.
Anthony’s father, Salvatore DeLuca, had worn his ring constantly.
What if someone needed a substitute on his hand after death?
Anthony suddenly remembered something.
The funeral home.
Closed viewing for family.
His father’s left hand folded over his right.
Ring visible.
Anthony had touched it.
Or thought he had.
He stared at the fake ring.
“Frank.”
“Boss.”
“Photographs from my father’s wake.”
Frank frowned.
“Now?”
“Now.”
Three minutes later, images appeared on a tablet.
Salvatore in the casket.
Anthony zoomed.
Black stone.
Gold crest.
Inside scratches not visible.
But Maya noticed something else.
“Stone is too dark.”
Anthony looked at her.
“You can tell from a photograph?”
“The real one has a brown undertone.”
She pointed at a Sunday dinner photograph hanging across the room.
His father wearing the original.
Different.
Subtle.
But different.
Maya whispered:
“That funeral ring is fake.”
Anthony stopped breathing.
For eighteen months, the real ring had been missing.
Maybe longer.
Richard said:
“This proves nothing.”
Anthony looked at Gabrielle.
“What happened that night?”
She started crying.
Not dramatic.
Real fear.
“My father came over.”
“I know.”
“He spoke to Salvatore in the library.”
“About?”
“The Red Hook redevelopment.”
Anthony frowned.
His father had rejected Richard’s proposal to move Bennett construction crews onto two piers controlled by DeLuca companies.
“What happened?”
“They argued.”
“Then?”
“Your father told Dad to leave.”
“And the ring?”
Gabrielle wiped her face.
“My father said Salvatore threw a glass.”
“That doesn’t answer.”
“He took the ring afterward.”
Anthony stared.
“Off my father’s hand?”
“No.”
“Then?”
Gabrielle looked at Richard.
He did not help her.
Finally:
“Salvatore took it off himself.”
Anthony went still.
“Why?”
“He put it on the table.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know.”
“You were there?”
“No.”
“Then how do you know?”
Gabrielle whispered:
“My father told me.”
Anthony looked at Richard.
“What happened after?”
Richard said:
“Salvatore was drinking.”
“He took the ring off because his hand was swollen.”
Anthony almost laughed.
“My father wore that ring through a broken knuckle.”
Richard’s lie collapsed.
Frank’s phone buzzed.
“Forensics is here.”
The specialist arrived carrying a shielded case.
He examined the opened ring first.
Ten minutes.
Then:
“This isn’t a live transmitter.”
Anthony frowned.
“What is it?”
“Recorder.”
Silence.
“Audio?”
“Yes.”
“Storage capacity?”
“Several hours.”
“Battery?”
“Motion activated.”
Maya stared.
Anthony understood.
The fake ring had been designed to record conversations.
Not broadcast.
Meaning someone had to retrieve it later.
“How many of the copies?”
The specialist inspected second.
“Same.”
Third.
“Same.”
Frank swore.
Three recording rings.
Used at different times?
Anthony looked toward Gabrielle.
“Were you swapping them?”
Her face broke.
“No.”
“Who?”
“Dad.”
Richard said nothing.
Anthony’s voice became very quiet.
“How many times did you put a recording device on my father’s hand?”
Richard’s eyes hardened.
“You have no proof I did.”
Maya suddenly looked toward the velvet box.
Then at the ring from the fire.
“The chips may.”
Everyone turned.
She pointed.
“If they store audio locally…”
Anthony completed thought.
“They may still contain recordings.”
The forensics specialist nodded.
“Probably.”
Richard moved.
Fast.
Toward fireplace.
Frank’s men caught him before two steps.
That was proof enough to keep digging.
Anthony stared.
“Get every file.”
The specialist began extraction.
First ring:
Eleven hours of fragments.
Second:
Eight.
Third:
Four.
Dates embedded in metadata.
The final recording ended—
the night before Salvatore died.
Anthony’s pulse hammered.
They played it.
Static.
Footsteps.
Then his father’s voice.
“Get out of my house, Bennett.”
Richard:
“Sign the waterfront agreement.”
“No.”
“You’re making a mistake.”
“My mistake was letting you through the door.”
Then Richard’s voice changed.
“You think Anthony knows?”
Anthony stopped breathing.
His father:
“Knows what?”
“What you did to his mother.”
The room went silent.
Anthony’s mother, Elena DeLuca, had died twenty-one years earlier.
Car accident.
Anthony was nineteen.
Richard continued:
“You never told him.”
Salvatore:
“Because it wasn’t his burden.”
Richard:
“It becomes his burden if you don’t give me the piers.”
Then a glass broke.
Salvatore:
“You threaten my son again, I bury every Bennett company under audits before breakfast.”
Richard laughed.
Then:
“You should worry less about Anthony.”
“And more about what Gabrielle already knows.”
Recording ended abruptly.
Anthony slowly turned toward his fiancée.
Gabrielle was crying.
May you like
Not looking at him.
“What do you know about my mother?”
