Chapter 3 - Agatha’s Box
Twenty minutes later, I was inside Dominic Moretti's black SUV.
“This is insane.”
Dominic sat across from me.
“I agree.”
“Then take me home.”
“That's where we're going.”
“I mean alone.”
“No.”
“Why?”
“Because whoever entered your apartment may still be looking for something.”
“My laptop is eight years old. They can have it.”
“They weren't looking for your laptop.”
I stared at him.
“The box.”
“Yes.”
Salvatore sat beside his son.
“Agatha kept secrets.”
“What kind?”
“The dangerous kind.”
When we reached Bensonhurst, the apartment door was broken.
Drawers had been emptied.
Cushions cut open.
My mattress overturned.
I ran toward the bedroom.
Dominic caught my wrist.
“Wait.”
His grip was firm but careful.
Two of his men checked the apartment.
“Clear.”
I pulled away.
“Agatha's box.”
I opened the bottom kitchen cabinet and removed the loose wooden panel behind the pipes.
Dominic stared.
“You hid it behind plumbing?”
“Burglars hate plumbing.”
Salvatore laughed.
The box was still there.
Inside were photographs, letters, Agatha's rosary, and an old silver pendant.
Salvatore picked up a photograph.
His face changed.
It showed a much younger Agatha beside three men.
One was Salvatore.
Another I didn't recognize.
The third had been scratched out.
Dominic picked up an envelope.
“Father.”
Salvatore read the writing.
“That's Agatha's hand.”
The letter was addressed to him.
He opened it.
Inside was a single page.
Salvatore read silently.
Then handed it to Dominic.
“What does it say?” I asked.
Dominic hesitated.
“Agatha discovered someone inside my father's organization had been stealing from him.”
“Thirty years ago?”
“Apparently.”
“Why does that matter now?”
Salvatore pointed to the final line.
I read it.
The son will finish what the father began.
My skin prickled.
Dominic took the letter.
“Who's the father?”
Salvatore didn't answer.
I looked at him.
“You know.”
“I suspect.”
“Who?”
Salvatore's jaw tightened.
“Victor Galloway.”
I froze.
“Galloway?”
Dominic looked at me.
“Martin's father.”
I laughed once.
Not because it was funny.
“Of course.”
“What?”
“The man who hid me in the kitchen tonight is connected to this?”
Dominic nodded slowly.
“It appears so.”
Then my phone rang.
Martin.
Dominic looked at the screen.
“Answer.”
I did.
“Hello?”
“Penelope, where are you?”
“Home.”
“You left during your shift.”
“My apartment was robbed.”
A pause.
Then Martin said something strange.
“Was anything taken?”
Dominic's eyes sharpened.
I looked at the box.
“I don't know.”
“You should check.”
“Why?”
Another pause.
“No reason.”
Dominic silently held out his hand.
I gave him the phone.
“Mr. Galloway,” he said.
Silence.
Dominic continued.
“You seem unusually interested in Miss Hayes's possessions.”
Martin immediately disconnected.
Dominic handed my phone back.
“Well,” I said, “that wasn't suspicious at all.”
Salvatore smiled grimly.
“Agatha would like you.”
“She did.”
“I meant because you're sarcastic when frightened.”
I looked at Dominic.
“What happens now?”
“You don't return to Bellafonte.”
“That's my job.”
“Your manager may have arranged a burglary.”
“I still have rent.”
Dominic seemed genuinely confused.
“Your apartment was just broken into.”
“Yes. Unfortunately, landlords continue charging rent after burglaries.”
Salvatore laughed again.
Dominic shook his head.
“I'll cover—”
“No.”
He stopped.
“I don't want your money.”
“I was trying to help.”
“I know. But I don't need to become financially dependent on a man I've known for ninety minutes.”
Salvatore looked delighted.
Dominic stared at me.
Most people probably didn't tell him no.
“Fine,” he said.
“Fine.”
“I'll hire you.”
I blinked.
“To do what?”
Salvatore answered.
“Feed me.”
“No.”
“Translate for me.”
“No.”
Dominic almost smiled.
I crossed my arms.
“What job?”
Dominic considered me.
“My hospitality company needs someone who understands restaurants.”
“You own restaurants?”
“Seventeen.”
“You need me?”
“I need somebody who will tell me when I'm wrong.”
Salvatore raised his hand.
“She appears extremely qualified.”
I laughed despite myself.
Then Dominic's phone rang.
He listened.
His expression darkened.
“They found Martin.”
“Where?”
“At Bellafonte.”
“And?”
Dominic looked at his father.
May you like
“He's burning documents.”
---
