Chapter 5 - THE LOCKER AT UNION STATION
The rain started at midnight, pounding against the windows of the Moretti estate.
I sat in the passenger seat of Luca’s armored SUV, staring at the small silver key in my hand. My father’s watch weighed heavy in my apron pocket.
"Union Station," Luca said quietly, gripping the steering wheel as we sped through the dark Chicago streets. "Arthur said the key matches the old storage lockers in the basement of the train terminal."
"Why didn't Arthur go to the police?" I asked, my voice hollow.
"Because Vanessa threatened Leo," Luca replied. "She told her father that if he ever breathed a word about the watch or the fire, she would make sure Leo vanished. Arthur spent the last eighteen months trapped. He had a stroke because of the stress."
I closed my eyes. A seventy-two-year-old man, paralyzed by fear and a failing body, forced to watch his daughter parade around in diamonds bought with blood money.
"He’s a brave man," I whispered.
"He is," Luca agreed. He glanced at me. "And so are you. Most people would have run away tonight."
"I need to know what my father found," I said firmly.
We pulled into the deserted parking garage beneath Union Station. The air was damp and smelled of exhaust and old concrete.
Luca walked closely beside me, his hand hovering near the weapon holstered under his jacket.
We descended the concrete stairs to the forgotten lower levels. Row upon row of rusted, orange metal lockers lined the walls.
"Look for the number," Luca said, shining a heavy flashlight down the corridor.
I examined the small silver key. Engraved on the back was a tiny 402.
I walked down the aisle, my heart hammering in my chest. 400. 401.
My hand trembled as I slid the key into the lock. It turned with a harsh screech of rusted metal.
I pulled the locker door open.
Inside sat a dusty, black leather briefcase.
Luca pulled it out and set it on the floor. He snapped the latches open.
The briefcase was filled with photographs, bank statements, and a digital audio recorder.
I picked up the recorder and pressed play.
The sound of my father’s voice filled the empty concrete hallway. Tears instantly pricked my eyes. I hadn't heard his voice in eighteen months.
"If anyone finds this, my name is Thomas Collins. I am being hunted. I broke into the developer's office tonight to find proof of the eviction threats. But I found something worse."
Luca crouched beside me, listening intently.
"The developer isn't Luca Moretti," my father’s recorded voice said. "Moretti signed the deed, but the management company executing the evictions is a front. It's run by Marcus Moretti and a woman named Vanessa Bellini. They aren't just burning buildings. They are using the arson to collect massive insurance payouts, laundering the money through offshore accounts."
"Insurance fraud," Luca growled. "They burned out innocent families to steal the insurance money, and framed my redevelopment company for the negligence."
My father’s voice lowered to a terrified whisper. "They saw me. Marcus knows I have the ledgers. If I die in a fire tonight, it wasn't an accident. Please. Tell my wife and my daughter that I love them."
The recording clicked off.
I buried my face in my hands and sobbed. My father hadn't died a victim of a tragic accident. He died a hero, trying to expose a monster.
Luca put his hand on my back. A gentle, anchoring weight.
"I will tear them apart," Luca whispered, his voice trembling with a rage so profound it shook the air. "I swear to you, Hannah. They will pay."
Suddenly, the sound of squealing tires echoed through the parking garage above us.
"We need to move," Luca said, grabbing the briefcase and pulling me to my feet.
But as we reached the bottom of the stairwell, three men in dark clothes stepped out from the shadows, blocking our path. They were holding suppressed submachine guns.
"Drop the briefcase, Luca," the lead gunman said.
"Who sent you?" Luca demanded, shielding me behind his body.
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"Vanessa," the gunman smiled. "She made a phone call before your men threw her out. She said there was a million-dollar bounty on the maid's head. And ten million for yours."
Before Luca could draw his weapon, a massive black van smashed through the security gate of the lower level, plowing directly toward the gunmen.
