Chapter 3 - WHAT GABRIELLE KNEW
Gabrielle sat down because her knees gave out.
Anthony remained standing.
His sling made his left shoulder ache.
He barely noticed.
Twenty-one years.
His mother’s death had been a closed wound.
Or one he had decided was closed.
Elena DeLuca had driven alone from Brooklyn toward Long Island one rainy night.
Car left road.
Hit barrier.
She died before ambulance arrived.
Anthony remembered his father sitting at kitchen table until sunrise.
The ring on his finger.
Black stone.
Gold crest.
The same ring Richard Bennett had stolen decades later.
“What do you know?”
Anthony repeated.
Gabrielle looked at Richard.
“Don’t.”
Anthony’s voice hardened.
“Look at me.”
She did.
“Three years ago, my father told me Salvatore had caused your mother’s accident.”
Anthony stopped moving.
Richard snapped:
“Gabrielle.”
She flinched.
Anthony saw it.
Interesting.
“What exactly did he say?”
“He said Salvatore ordered someone to frighten her.”
“Why?”
“He said she wanted to leave him.”
Anthony almost laughed.
His parents fought.
Everyone knew.
Elena was not meek.
She threatened divorce twice a month and made pasta the next night.
“Anything else?”
Gabrielle swallowed.
“He said the driver lost control because another car forced her off the road.”
Anthony stared at Richard.
“You told your daughter my father killed my mother.”
Richard said:
“I told her what I knew.”
“Then why marry me?”
Anthony asked Gabrielle.
Her eyes filled.
“At first, because Dad wanted it.”
That hit.
Not unexpected.
Their engagement had business around edges from beginning.
Bennett construction.
DeLuca waterfront.
Political relationships.
But Anthony had believed affection grew inside it.
“And later?”
“I loved you.”
Past tense?
Maybe fear.
Anthony continued.
“Why not tell me?”
“Because Dad said if you learned the truth, you’d kill Salvatore.”
“He was alive then.”
“Yes.”
Three years ago.
Anthony’s father died eighteen months ago.
Gabrielle had known—or believed—something about Elena while Salvatore was alive.
“And you stayed quiet.”
“Yes.”
“Did you ever ask my father?”
“No.”
“Why?”
“Because I was afraid.”
“Of him?”
“Yes.”
Anthony absorbed that.
Salvatore could be terrifying.
But still.
“You let me sit at dinner with him every Sunday.”
Gabrielle cried.
“I didn’t know if Dad was telling truth.”
“Then why believe enough to hide it?”
No answer.
Maya stood near fireplace, trying to become invisible.
Anthony noticed she was watching Richard, not Gabrielle.
“What?”
Maya stiffened.
“Nothing.”
“Maya.”
She hesitated.
“Mr. Bennett keeps looking at the clock.”
Everyone turned.
Richard’s jaw tightened.
Anthony looked toward grandfather clock.
9:37 p.m.
“Why?”
Richard said nothing.
Maya continued cautiously.
“And he checked his coat pocket twice since the recording played.”
Frank moved.
Richard stepped back.
“Don’t touch me.”
Frank searched coat anyway.
Found car keys.
Wallet.
Then a small remote.
Anthony stared.
“What does it control?”
Richard’s face stayed hard.
“No idea.”
Maya looked at it.
“Garage remote?”
Frank shook head.
“Not our frequency.”
Forensics specialist examined.
“RF controller.”
“For?”
“Could be anything.”
Anthony looked around house.
Richard had been in dining room almost two hours.
What would he need timed?
Then Maya’s face changed.
“The velvet box.”
“What?”
She hurried to service cabinet.
Pulled drawer.
Behind it—
a small black object with blinking green light.
Frank swore.
The specialist grabbed it with gloves.
“Wireless relay.”
Anthony frowned.
“To what?”
“Likely receiving from recorders or another device nearby.”
Maya looked toward Richard.
“So the rings may not only store audio.”
Specialist checked.
“Possible offload when close.”
Meaning Richard could collect recordings without physically retrieving every ring.
Anthony’s stomach tightened.
“How long has that relay been there?”
Maya answered.
“I cleaned cabinet Monday.”
“It wasn’t.”
Thursday now.
Within three days.
Gabrielle whispered:
“Dad.”
Richard finally lost composure.
“You don’t understand what Salvatore was doing.”
Anthony stared.
“Then educate me.”
Richard laughed bitterly.
“Your father was going to destroy us.”
“Why?”
“He found out Bennett Construction had been paying a union consultant.”
“Which?”
Richard looked away.
Anthony knew.
“No.”
Frank said:
“Which consultant?”
Richard answered:
“Eddie Russo.”
Anthony’s jaw tightened.
Eddie Russo had been investigated for kickbacks and extortion.
Salvatore hated him.
“What did Eddie have?”
“Information.”
“On who?”
“Salvatore.”
“What information?”
Richard glanced at Gabrielle.
“Your mother.”
Again.
Anthony felt tired of dead people being weaponized.
“What about her?”
Richard said:
“Elena wasn’t alone the night she died.”
Silence.
Anthony frowned.
“She was driving alone.”
“No.”
“There was another car.”
“Who?”
Richard smiled faintly.
“Ask Frank.”
Anthony slowly turned toward security chief.
Frank’s face had gone pale.
“What?”
Frank said nothing.
“Frank.”
“I was seventeen.”
That made no sense.
Anthony stared.
“My father worked for Salvatore then.”
“Yes.”
Frank swallowed.
“The other car belonged to my father.”
Anthony felt cold.
“Why?”
“He followed Elena.”
“On Salvatore’s order?”
Frank closed eyes.
“Yes.”
Room shifted.
“Did your father force her off road?”
“No.”
“Did he touch her car?”
“No.”
“How do you know?”
“He confessed to me before he died.”
Frank’s father, Paul Marino, died ten years earlier from cancer.
Anthony remembered visiting hospital.
“Then what happened?”
“Elena was meeting someone.”
“Who?”
Frank looked toward Richard.
“Bennett.”
Anthony stared.
Richard’s composure vanished for first time.
“No.”
Frank continued.
“My father followed her from Brooklyn.”
“She stopped at diner near Queens border.”
“Richard Bennett was there.”
Gabrielle gasped.
Anthony looked at Richard.
“You knew my mother.”
“Everyone knew Elena.”
“That wasn’t question.”
Richard’s jaw tightened.
Frank said:
“They argued outside.”
“Then Elena drove away.”
“Richard followed.”
“My father followed both.”
“Rain got worse.”
“Elena accelerated.”
“Richard stayed behind her.”
“Then?”
Frank swallowed.
“My father said Bennett pulled alongside.”
Anthony’s hands tightened.
“And?”
“Maybe shouted.”
“Maybe forced lane.”
“He couldn’t see clearly.”
“Then Elena lost control.”
Richard snapped:
“That is a lie.”
Frank looked at him.
“My father carried it twenty years.”
“You carried my father’s story ten years.”
Anthony said.
“You never told me.”
Frank lowered eyes.
“No.”
“Why?”
“Salvatore ordered me not to.”
There it was again.
His father keeping truth.
“For protection?”
Frank gave a bitter smile.
“What else?”
Anthony almost laughed.
Family disease.
Richard said:
“Salvatore threatened me afterward.”
Anthony turned.
“Because he believed you caused crash.”
“Yes.”
“Did you?”
“No.”
“Then why didn’t you go to police?”
Richard laughed.
“Police?”
“Your father would have buried my company.”
“Maybe.”
“He told me if I ever came near Anthony, I was dead.”
Anthony frowned.
“Yet you came near me years later.”
“After Salvatore got older.”
“Through Gabrielle.”
Silence.
Anthony looked at his fiancée.
A terrible possibility.
“Was our relationship planned?”
Gabrielle started crying harder.
“At first.”
The answer hurt more than he wanted.
“How early?”
“My father introduced us at foundation dinner deliberately.”
Anthony remembered.
Three years ago.
Gabrielle in blue dress.
Richard smiling.
“She was leverage.”
Richard said nothing.
Anthony turned back to Gabrielle.
“And you knew.”
“Yes.”
“Eventually loved me.”
“Yes.”
“Still helped him steal ring.”
Her face broke.
“I didn’t know why he wanted it.”
“You admitted he needed it the night before Dad died.”
“Yes.”
“Why give it?”
“He told me Salvatore had recording hidden inside.”
Anthony stared.
“The original ring.”
“Yes.”
“What recording?”
Gabrielle wiped tears.
“He said your father had recorded something about my mother.”
Richard snapped:
“Enough.”
Anthony’s eyes narrowed.
“Your mother?”
Gabrielle looked at father.
Then Anthony.
“My mother didn’t die of cancer.”
Richard closed eyes.
Anthony waited.
“She killed herself.”
Silence.
“When?”
“Sixteen years ago.”
Anthony remembered funeral.
Bennett family said ovarian cancer had been private.
Apparently lie.
“Why?”
Gabrielle whispered:
“She left a letter blaming my father.”
Richard exploded.
“She was sick!”
Gabrielle flinched.
Anthony stepped between them automatically.
Richard stopped.
Gabrielle continued:
“Dad thought Salvatore had the letter.”
“Inside ring?”
“No.”
“He thought ring contained key to where Salvatore kept it.”
Anthony looked at fake ring’s opening.
The original may indeed contain more than scratches.
Maya spoke quietly.
“The copies have recorders because Mr. Bennett was trying to learn where the original was stored.”
Anthony turned.
She continued.
“He couldn’t ask directly.”
“So he copied ring.”
“Swapped them.”
“Recorded conversations.”
“Listened for references.”
Yes.
Richard’s face confirmed.
Anthony looked at forensics specialist.
“Dates.”
The ring recordings spanned—
five months.
Three copies rotated through family dinners and meetings.
Meaning someone close enough to Anthony or Salvatore had swapped rings repeatedly.
Gabrielle.
Or staff.
Or Richard.
“Who physically swapped them?”
Anthony asked.
Gabrielle whispered:
“I did twice.”
Pain.
“Why?”
“Dad said Salvatore had evidence that could destroy my mother’s memory.”
Anthony stared.
“You chose your dead mother over my living trust.”
She cried.
“Yes.”
Honest.
Anthony looked at Richard.
“And final night?”
“I took original.”
“Where is it?”
No answer.
Anthony stepped closer.
“Where?”
Richard stared at fire.
Then said:
“I gave it to Eddie Russo.”
Frank swore.
Anthony’s stomach tightened.
“Why?”
“Because he knew how to open it.”
“Where is Eddie now?”
Silence.
Then Richard said:
“Dead.”
Anthony frowned.
Eddie Russo died ten months ago.
Heart attack in parked car.
Another dead man.
“Did he return ring?”
“No.”
“Then who has it?”
Richard looked toward Maya.
Strange.
Anthony noticed.
“What?”
Richard’s eyes narrowed at her.
“Ask her father.”
Maya went completely still.
“What did you say?”
Richard looked at her.
“Your father repaired watches.”
Maya’s face drained.
“Luis Torres.”
Richard smiled faintly.
“Eddie brought him a black-stone ring ten months ago.”
Maya stopped breathing.
Anthony stared.
“Your father had my father’s ring?”
Maya whispered:
“I don’t know.”
Then something changed in her eyes.
Memory.
“He did bring home a ring.”
“When?”
“A week before he died.”
Anthony felt room close in again.
Her father died nine months ago.
One month after Eddie Russo.
“What happened to ring?”
Maya looked terrified.
“I think…”
May you like
She swallowed.
“I think it’s in my mother’s sewing box.”
