Chapter 4 - THE NURSE’S SECRET
The name hit me like a physical blow.
Clara Collins. My mother.
The room seemed to tilt on its axis. I backed away, my hands instinctively reaching back to shield Teresa, but my eyes were locked on the terrifying man in the grey suit. How did the head of the Bellini crime family know my mother’s name?
Luca stood firmly between us and the armed men, his weapon raised, aimed squarely at Don Bellini’s chest.
“Get out of my house, Bellini,” Luca growled, his voice vibrating with lethal intent.
Don Bellini didn’t even flinch at the gun. He casually adjusted his cuffs. “Put the toy away, Luca. You’re outnumbered downstairs. Your perimeter security was pathetic. I’m just here to collect my daughter.”
Vanessa scrambled off the floor, running behind her father’s men. “They found the bracelet, Papa! They have the key!”
Bellini’s eyes darkened, darting to the small silver bank key still clutched tightly in Teresa’s trembling hand.
“Is that so?” he murmured. He looked back at Luca. “A pity. Your father was a stubborn old mule, Luca. He just wouldn't sign the estate over quietly. He made things so difficult.”
“You murdered him,” Margaret spat from behind me, her voice shaking with rage. “You killed Antonio.”
Bellini chuckled. A dry, humorless sound. “Don't be dramatic, Margaret. Antonio’s heart gave out. It was a tragedy.” His eyes slowly drifted back to me, pinning me to the wall like a butterfly on a corkboard. “Isn't that right, Hannah? I’m sure your mother told you all about his tragic final moments.”
My blood ran cold.
“Leave her out of this,” Luca snapped, stepping slightly to block Bellini’s view of me.
“Leave her out?” Bellini laughed. “She’s the centerpiece, Luca! Don't you know who you hired to clean your toilets?” He pointed a thick finger at me. “Her mother, Clara, was the private hospice nurse we hired to look after your father during his final weeks.”
The air left my lungs.
My mother was a nurse. That much was true. But she had always told me she worked at the public hospital downtown. She had never mentioned the Moretti family. She had never mentioned the Bellinis.
“Hannah?” Luca glanced back at me, his eyes filled with sudden confusion and betrayal.
“I didn't know!” I cried, tears welling in my eyes. “I swear to God, Mr. Moretti! She never told me!”
“Of course she didn't,” Bellini sneered. “Because Clara is a smart woman. She knew what would happen if she ever opened her mouth about what she saw in that study the night Antonio died.”
He took a step forward, his men raising their weapons.
“Hand over the key, Teresa. Or I’ll have my men paint this bedroom with your son’s blood.”
Teresa gripped the small silver key to her chest. She looked at Luca.
Luca didn't hesitate. “Marco!” he roared.
Suddenly, the shattered window behind Bellini exploded inward as two of Luca’s snipers on the roof opened fire, blowing the guns out of the hands of Bellini’s men. The bedroom descended into absolute chaos. Glass showered the carpet.
Luca grabbed my arm, shoving me, Teresa, and Margaret into the adjoining master bathroom.
“Lock it and don't come out!” he shouted over the deafening gunfire.
He slammed the heavy oak door shut. I immediately threw the deadbolt, my hands shaking so violently I could barely turn the lock.
Inside the marble bathroom, the three of us huddled on the floor. Margaret was crying, holding her sister tight. Teresa was praying rapidly in Italian, the broken wooden rosary still gripped in her hand.
I pulled my cell phone from my apron pocket. My fingers were slick with sweat. I dialed the only number that mattered right now.
It rang twice before a tired voice answered.
“Hannah, sweetie? Are you still at the dinner?”
“Mom,” I choked out, a sob escaping my throat. “Mom, I need you to tell me the truth.”
A heavy pause on the line. The background noise of her television went instantly silent.
“What’s wrong? Are you hurt?”
“Don Bellini is here,” I whispered, covering my mouth to muffle the sound. “He just told Luca that you were the nurse who took care of Antonio Moretti.”
The silence that followed was the most terrifying sound I had ever heard. It wasn't the silence of confusion. It was the silence of a woman who had just been caught running from a ghost.
“Hannah,” my mother’s voice cracked. “Get out. Get out of that house right now.”
“I can't! They’re shooting outside the door!” I cried. “Mom, why didn't you tell me? I’ve been working for the Morettis for eleven months! Why didn't you warn me?”
“Because I didn't know!” she sobbed. “You told me you were working for a family named Smith in the suburbs! I didn't know you took a job at the mansion!”
I squeezed my eyes shut. I had lied to her. I knew she hated the mafia families in Chicago, so I used a fake name to keep her from worrying about my safety while I paid her medical bills.
“Mom, what happened the night Antonio died?” I pleaded. “Bellini said you saw something.”
“Oh, God, Hannah… they threatened to kill you if I ever told the police.”
“Mom, please! Luca needs to know!”
I heard my mother take a ragged breath.
“He didn't die of a heart attack, Hannah,” she whispered, her voice trembling with four years of buried guilt. “He was murdered.”
I looked up at Teresa, who was watching me with wide, terrified eyes.
“Who did it, Mom? Who killed him?”
“It was Vanessa,” she wept. “I walked into the study to give him his medication. Vanessa was standing over him. She poured a vial of liquid into his antique teacup. When he started choking, she just stood there and watched him die.”
A cold sweat broke out across my back.
“Did you see the vial?” I asked desperately. “Did she take it with her?”
“No,” my mother gasped. “She panicked when she saw me. She shoved the empty glass vial into the soil of the large potted fern by the fireplace. It’s still in the study, Hannah. If they haven't repotted that plant, the evidence is still there.”
Before I could ask anything else, the bathroom door violently rattled.
“Hannah! Open the door!”
It was Luca.
I scrambled up and threw the deadbolt. Luca stood in the doorway, his chest heaving, his face splattered with someone else’s blood. The bedroom behind him was destroyed, but Bellini and his men were gone.
“They retreated,” Luca breathed heavily. “They realized we had the tactical advantage. But they’ll be back with a small army.”
He looked at the cell phone in my hand.
May you like
“Who were you talking to?”
“My mother,” I said, my voice shaking. I looked him dead in the eye. “She told me how your father died, Mr. Moretti. And she told me exactly where Vanessa hid the murder weapon.”
