Chapter 4 - THE HEAVY WOOL COAT
Silvia Russo stood trembling between the two guards.
She hadn’t been seen by the family since Robert’s funeral fourteen years ago.
She had vanished, leaving behind nothing but a bitter note blaming the family for her husband's death.
Now, she was standing in Dominic’s bedroom, soaking wet, with a fresh bruise on her cheek.
“Let her go,” Dominic ordered.
The guards stepped back.
Silvia didn’t look at Dominic. She looked at Anthony.
Then she looked at the CPAP machine.
“You didn’t use it,” Silvia whispered.
Anthony stared at his aunt.
“You knew about the machine?”
Silvia closed her eyes. A tear slipped down her bruised face.
“I packed the box.”
The room went dead silent.
Dominic crossed the floor in three long strides. He grabbed Silvia by the lapels of her heavy wool coat.
“You tried to kill my son?” he roared.
“Dad, stop!” Anthony yelled, pulling his father back.
I stepped between them.
“Dominic, look at her.”
I pointed to Silvia’s hands.
Her fingernails were cracked and stained with dirt. Her coat was high-quality wool, but it was frayed at the cuffs. She was malnourished.
“She isn’t the mastermind,” I said softly. “She’s a hostage.”
Silvia collapsed to her knees on the expensive rug.
“I had to,” she sobbed, burying her face in her hands. “He said if I didn’t pack the tampered inserts into the delivery box, he would stop giving her the medicine.”
Dominic froze.
“Giving who the medicine?”
Silvia looked up.
“Your mother.”
Margaret let out a wail, leaning heavily against the wall.
Dominic’s face went chalk white.
“My mother is alive? Where is she?”
“I don’t know the exact address,” Silvia wept. “It’s a basement. Somewhere in the city. He’s kept us both there for years. He uses your mother to make the phone calls when he needs to prove she’s alive. He forced me to do the shipping because I still had Robert’s old medical supplier contacts.”
“Dr. Kane,” Anthony said.
Silvia nodded.
“He’s horribly scarred from the fire. He hates you, Dominic. He hates all of you. He wants to take your heir, just like you took his life.”
I knelt beside Silvia.
As a nurse, my instinct to comfort overpowered my fear of the situation.
I placed my hand on her shoulder. Her heavy wool coat was soaked.
But as I touched the collar, I felt something stiff inside the lining.
“Silvia, take the coat off,” I said.
She blinked, confused.
“What?”
“Take it off.”
I helped her slide out of the heavy garment.
I laid it on the bed and ran my fingers along the back seam.
There was a patch. Recently sewn.
“Do you have a knife?” I asked the security chief.
He handed me a pocket knife.
I sliced open the lining.
Dominic, Anthony, and Margaret crowded around.
I reached inside the fabric.
And pulled out a torn, faded train ticket.
It was dated October 14, 2004.
The day after Robert’s funeral.
I flipped it over.
There was an address scrawled on the back in frantic, messy handwriting.
1427 West Addison.
The abandoned respiratory clinic.
Dominic stared at it.
“That’s where Kane is hiding them.”
“No,” the security chief said. “We just swept that building an hour ago. It was empty.”
I looked closely at the ticket.
“Look at the ink.”
I held it up to the light.
Beneath the address for the clinic, there was an impression on the paper. Someone had written on a piece of paper resting on top of this ticket, leaving an invisible groove.
I grabbed a pencil from the nightstand and lightly shaded over the impression.
Words appeared.
St. Jude’s Cathedral. Crypt 4.
May you like
Silvia gasped.
“That’s where Robert is buried.”
