Code Of Silence. Heather Woodhaven
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and irritated the temporary receptionist hadn’t already finished the job. He didn’t begrudge Deb her maternity leave, but he also selfishly prayed she didn’t change her mind about coming back in six weeks. His sanity depended on it.
The motor whirred as the printer finally spit out his prize. He grabbed the paper, shoved it haphazardly into the leather satchel and strode for the door.
He hated keeping Gabriella waiting, especially since he had suggested the last-minute property tour. And since it was almost five o’clock already, he harbored hope she’d agree to have dinner afterward to catch up.
His mind replayed seeing her walk through his office door. She radiated a mixture of gentleness and beauty. And it made him angry with himself that he hadn’t kept in touch. He’d meant to.
When he first settled on the Treasure Valley to start his business, his parents had challenged his sanity. But the economy was booming, and it turned out to be a smart move financially. If he was honest with himself, in the back of his mind he’d assumed Gabriella would’ve settled in the area, too. Instead, she accepted a job in a small town in Eastern Oregon but spent summers in the valley. He knew she stayed with her family and worked with her foundation director anytime she had a break from teaching. Yet he’d never reached out, though he’d meant to before now.
Even now his heart sped up at the thought of her, but he knew why he procrastinated. He’d put himself out there once before—albeit almost a decade ago—and been burned. He wanted to diminish the risk of repeating the scenario.
Gabriella had seemed pleased about the grant and the media exposure. So pleased, he’d been tempted to let her know he owned the responsibility for making it happen. But he took the Bible passage seriously that exhorted believers to give in secret.
Luke turned to the receptionist. “As soon as you’re done with that file, you’re free to go. You’ll be paid for the full day. The door is set to lock behind you.” He pressed the glass door open as he threw on his designer shades, a smile plastering his face. He loved summer. He stepped out to an empty parking lot.
He always parked behind the office building along with his employees. The spaces in front were reserved for clients. He grabbed the glass door before it fully closed. “Karen?”
“Yes?”
“Did you see where my client went?”
“Oh. Yeah.” She picked at a piece of fuzz attached to her blouse. “She argued with some guy for a second, but then when she saw her friends coming, too, they like must have worked it out, ’cause they drove off together.”
Luke rubbed the throbbing spot above his brow. “Her friends?” It didn’t make sense. Gabriella was too considerate not to let him know she’d changed her plans. At least the girl he once knew would’ve been. Maybe she’d changed.
“Yeah, well I think so,” Karen muttered. “Two of them got in her car and the others followed them when they left.”
Luke’s shoulders sagged. An impromptu reunion? He shook his head. It didn’t add up. “Did she say anything when she left? Did she look upset?”
Karen lifted an eyebrow. “Well, yeah. Didn’t you say her mom just died?”
Luke blew out a long breath. He spun on his heel and headed for his truck. Maybe Gabriella had changed her mind about putting the property up for sale, but if that proved to be the case, he still wanted to show her how serious he was about being her friend. And who was the guy she argued and left with? The back of his neck tensed.
People changed over the years, sure, but Gabriella’s thoughtful nature defined her. Driving off without telling anyone didn’t ring true.
He entered Gabriella’s phone number and started his full-size Dodge Ram while it rang.
Four rings later it transferred to voice mail. Luke frowned. Something didn’t sit well. He didn’t want to be overly pushy, but he had also let Gabriella go once instead of being a true friend. He refused to make the same mistake twice. He shifted the truck into Drive and headed for Radcliffe Ranch.
Gabriella squeezed the steering wheel, but it didn’t tame the tremors. Her entire body shook at the sight of Aunt Freddie on the tablet.
The video showed her aunt asleep, wearing a quilted blue robe, in a strange recliner with another suited gunman sitting next to her. “What’d you do to her? Where’d you take her?”
“Keep your eyes on the road.” The man in her passenger seat clicked the tablet off. “She’s been given a strong sedative. Doesn’t even know that she went on a little field trip. And as long as you comply, she will be safe.”
One lone car drove past her. She stared out the window, her eyes wide, hoping the driver would somehow see something was wrong. She didn’t dare swerve, though, not with a madman watching her aunt sleep. “Who are you?”
The man grinned, sending shudders up her spine. “Benito.” He shrugged. “Of the Mirabella family.”
The way he said it...wasn’t that how people referred to the mafia? A crime family?
“We’re actually relatives,” he said. “I’m your mother’s second cousin.”
“Me, too, twice removed.” The man in the back chuckled. He sat in the middle, so that any time Gabriella looked in the rearview mirror she spotted his dark eyes, hard and void of compassion. She didn’t want to know his name. If she did, it would surely haunt her dreams.
Gabriella forced herself to breathe. Her mother’s cousins? It couldn’t be possible. Her mom had no living relatives.
“You look just like Renata, by the way.”
She turned to him, her mouth wide open. It was a mistake, a horrible mistake. She just needed to get them to see it. “You have the wrong person. I don’t know a Renata. And my aunt struggles with dementia so she’s no threat to you.” She turned her clicker on and steered toward the side of the road. She’d let them out, promise to never tell a soul. Maybe they’d leave her and her great-aunt alone. Please, Lord.
“Nice try,” the man named Benito said. “Stay straight, Gabriella. Your mother knew how to keep a secret. Impressive she kept it from her own daughter. Samantha was not your mother’s real name, just like Frederica is not your great-aunt’s name.”
She clenched her jaw. Every muscle tightened as she pressed on the gas and regained speed. “If you actually knew them, you’d know they never let anyone address them like that.”
“Ah, that’s right. Only Sam and Freddie.” He shook his head. “Very clever to use masculine names. If you hadn’t made national news, we’d likely never have found you.” He clucked his tongue in an annoying rhythm. “This ranch of yours is really in the middle of nowhere, isn’t it? Believe it or not, I’m sorry to hear your mother passed. Her real name was Renata Mirabella. Your great-aunt is Amalia Mirabella.”
Her stomach lurched. It had to be a lie and a dirty trick to make such accusations when her mother wasn’t alive to defend herself. Her eyes burned, and her throat hurt to swallow. “What do you want?”
“Your mother made herself very useful to the family back in the day. She grew up helping out. She was your grandpa and great-uncle’s favorite.”
The man in back scoffed. “Shows how poor their judgment was.”
Benito ignored him. “Eventually your mom handled the bookkeeping and served as a messenger between the bosses. Even snuggled up to the right people to help with some scores. After her father died, she disappeared, taking Uncle Claudio’s wife—your aunt—with her. But she left a note. Said she had enough evidence to send most of the family to the chair. Upon her death, it would be delivered to the FBI. So we didn’t chase her, on your great-uncle Claudio’s