Code of Silence Page 2

  “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 orders.”

  Gabriella’s foot slipped off the gas. Her mom had worked for the mob? No. Not possible. She shook her head. “I don’t understand what it is you want from me.”

  “It’s very simple. Get us the evidence, and we let you and your aunt go without consequence, out of respect for the family.” He sighed. “I had a great fondness for your mother.”

  She blinked rapidly, trying to clear her vision as she turned down the long road that led to the ranch. She could see the wrought iron gates in front of the man-made lake. “You had a fondness for her? That’s why you’re holding her aunt hostage.” The sarcasm kept her from leaping out of her seat and punching Benito in his smug face.

  “I understand your mother didn’t teach you the family business,” he answered, his voice steady, “but affection only goes so far. If a relative turns on us, we turn on them. We do what it takes to protect the family.” His chin jutted out. “Drive inside,” he said.

  Her shaky finger moved to the clicker. Her sanctuary, her safe place—she didn’t want to let these crazy people in. The gate swung open as she turned in to the driveway. “But you don’t understand. Even if you don’t believe me that my mom never ran with the mafia, I’m telling you she didn’t leave behind anything but this property. No evidence, no money...nothing! You could search the house and—”

  “We already did,” the gruff voice behind interrupted.

  She inhaled sharply. What if she had slept at home the past week? What would they have done? She pulled her elbows in closer to her torso as she drove, wishing she could curl up in a ball, away from them.

  “It’s a big property,” Benito said. “And your mom wouldn’t be one to trust banks. Besides, we’ve already checked.”

  “So why kill ourselves trying to find it when you can do the work for us?” the man in back added.

  “Even if you’re right, which I promise you’re not, why would you think the evidence hasn’t already gone to the FBI?” She looked in her rearview mirror. The black sedan stayed behind her down the mile-long driveway that meandered through the property until they reached the house.

  “If the FBI had it already, we wouldn’t be having this conversation. Our sources think your mom left it for you.” Benito winked. “Besides, we have connections. We would know if something was about to go down. But if that happened, it’d get...complicated for you and your aunt.”

  Gabriella pulled to a stop in front of the house but hesitated to shift into Park. The man in the back leaned forward, and through the rearview mirror she could see the way he leered. She kept one foot on the brake and one foot on the gas, in case he moved to try anything. At the very least she could drive into the lake.

  “You have twenty-four hours, more or less,” Benito said. “Depends on when the meds wear off on your auntie.”

  She gaped. “You can’t be serious.”

  He stepped one foot out of the vehicle. “And if you feel tempted to call the police, we have people ready at a moment’s notice to make sure your aunt never opens her eyes again.”

  “I’m telling you my aunt is no threat to you!”

  He shrugged, unfazed. “We’d also need to alert someone to the fact the sizable anonymous donation your little foundation accepted last week came from a lawyer known to have ties with the Mirabella family. You may not know it now, but your grandfather and great-uncle made our name quite famous.” He winked, left the car, straightened his jacket and bent down slightly. “We’ll be in touch in twenty-four hours. Goodbye, Gabriella.”

  The man in the back stroked her cheek with the back of his hand. She flinched and pressed herself against the window. He laughed and joined his boss in the sedan.

  Her bones ached as if they’d been filled with cement. How could this be happening? The black sedan squeezed past her car and continued around the circular drive, past the lake. It disappeared behind the willow trees on its way back to the gate. A second later, a navy Dodge Ram pulled up behind her. At the sign of the shined wingtips, Gabriella shoved the car door open. “Luke, get down.”

  His eyes widened, but he hunched over and looked around.

  “Stay there.” Gabriella watched out the side window as she saw glimpses through the foliage of the black sedan nearing the gate. If they spotted Luke, there was no telling what they would do, and she didn’t want to find out.

  The sedan didn’t seem to slow down, and since the house wasn’t visible from the road, maybe they were in the clear. She held her breath a moment longer until the vehicle disappeared from sight.

  She exhaled and dropped her head. What was she going to do?

  “Are you okay?” Luke bent down to look into her eyes.

  Gabriella brushed the escaping tear away with the heel of her hand. “Relatively speaking.”

  His eyes narrowed. “Who was in the black sedan?”

  She shook her head.

  “Did he threaten you?” His right hand rested on her shoulder. “Gabriella, what happened? You’re shaking and pale.”

  She tried to force a smile. It was imperative he think things were normal so she could convince him to leave. “Thanks for the compliment.” The attempted joke fell flat, though, as her voice shook.

  He narrowed his eyes. “Did someone hurt you?”

  Gabriella looked forward and focused on the trees swaying in the breeze, but it only served to remind her of the ticking clock. Twenty-four hours left until they killed her great-aunt, and she had no idea where to begin.

  Who could she call? The police? The FBI? Absolutely not. Her mother and aunt had told her a thousand times that for every ten good officers, a crooked one took a deal. And Benito’s offhanded comments seemed to corroborate the sentiment.

 
She moved to get out of the car. Luke stood to make room for her. He held out a hand to help her.

  Normally, she’d wave it away, but as heavy as her bones felt, she accepted. The strength in his grip as he gently pulled her to standing bolstered her determination. She would not let those men hurt her great-aunt Freddie—the woman had been like a second mother to her.

  “Luke, it’s not a good time to look at the property after all. I’m sorry I wasted your time. I’ll call you to reschedule?”

  Luke didn’t flinch, and his hand didn’t move from her wrist. “This isn’t business. I’m here as a friend. My receptionist said you were arguing with that man before you left, and the black sedan followed you. What happened?”

  The question caused her stomach to lurch as she remembered Benito’s callous compartmentalization between business and family—if he even was actual family. She scoffed at the thought.

  Luke’s gaze dropped to her wrist. “Gabriella, your pulse is pounding against my hand.” His blue eyes met hers as he flashed a smile. “And I don’t think it’s because of me.” His expression sobered. “You either need to give me some hint of what’s going on so I know you’re safe or I’m calling the police and reporting that sedan for suspicious behavior.”

  He frowned and shook his head. “I haven’t seen you look like this since...”

  He didn’t need to say it aloud. She knew he remembered the night they were dumped by their fiancés. Betrayed by those they loved.

  “There’s no need to call the police.” Gabriella tugged her hand away from his touch. She couldn’t think of an explanation that would keep him in the dark while he had a finger on the beat of her heart, but she also didn’t want to lie to him. That was a nonnegotiable. She would never lie, and up until now, she thought her mother never did either.

  “I am safe,” she said. At the moment.

  He tilted his head. “Gabriella?”

  She melted when he said her name. “Yes?”

  “Are you sure you’re ready to sell?”

  Oh, no. He thought she wanted to change her mind. But if she got her aunt out of this horrible situation, she’d still need Luke’s help. She couldn’t afford for him to think she was backing out.

  She inhaled. This needed to be fast. “My mom’s bank accounts didn’t even hold enough money to cover the funeral costs. The property, as you know, is massive. And even though the deed is free and clear, I cleaned out my savings to pay for the property taxes that were due. My great-aunt has nothing to pay for her assisted living costs after September. I have no choice but to sell.” Her eyes widened. “And I basically just told you I’m desperate.”

  He closed his eyes and his chin dipped. “I see why you would think that, but I didn’t interpret it like that. I asked as your friend.” He sighed. “But, if this property suits my needs, I promise to offer you a fair price. And I insist you ask other developers for bids.”

  “I came to you in the first place because I trust you.”

  He frowned. “Then what’s the problem? Why’d you leave so fast if you hadn’t changed your mind?”

  This was the Luke she remembered. He never accepted simple answers. He always pursued the reasons and motivations until it made sense to him. Once, he followed their theology professor around and around the room, asking questions. He should’ve been a reporter. “I received some bad news about my great-aunt, and I need to make some unforeseen...arrangements.”

  He raised his left eyebrow. “Is this about the assisted living bills?”

  She cringed. There he went, getting the wrong idea. She could see the pity in his eyes. “No. It’s a private matter.”

  Luke crossed his arms across his chest, his strength evident as his biceps bulged against the suit jacket. “At least let me see you inside and make you a cup of tea. You look like you could faint.”

  She opened her mouth to protest, but he held out a hand. “You don’t need to tell me any more if you don’t want to, but I hope you know that I’m a great listener.”

  Unbidden memories sprang to mind: sitting together on a stone bench on campus after they’d just found out about their fiancés, organizing board game tournaments in the commons, studying at the library, laughing at the movie playing in the park. “I remember,” she said softly.

  If she argued against his kindness any more, he would dig in his heels. Luke was as determined and stubborn as he was thoughtful and kind—probably why he succeeded in his career. She shrugged. “I have no idea what’s in the pantry. I haven’t been sleeping here, just stopping in on mornings to grab clothes.”

  She wanted to spend as little time as possible in the house. While it was not much easier to stay with her aunt in assisted living, coming home without her mother and aunt there proved too painful to endure.

  He turned to face the front door. “We’ll figure something out.”

  Luke looked up, gazing at the house her best friend from high school had once described as “a rich person’s idea of getting back to nature.” She agreed it made for an impressive sight. The luxury log cabin with tall windows and a brick foundation looked gorgeous in front of the backdrop of lakes, mountains and pine trees.

  He led her to the front door. His arm shot out, blocking her path.

  “What?” she asked. “What is it?”

  “Did you lock the door when you left? It’s slightly ajar.” He pulled a phone from his pocket.

  Her eyes darted to the door. She put a hand on his arm. “I’m sure you don’t need to call the police.” Benito said they’d already checked the house. But even if someone else had robbed all the contents, she wouldn’t call the police until she got her aunt back.

  “Don’t you have a security system?”

  It served as another reminder of a long list of things she couldn’t afford. “I shut it down last week when I wasn’t able to pay the bill.” She closed her eyes, replaying the events of the morning.

  Could she remember locking the door behind her? “I was in such a rush this morning it’s possible this is my fault. Not to mention I’ve been operating in a fog the past few weeks.” She narrowed her eyes, trying to focus. “If you don’t fully press in the lever on the handle when you close the door, it bounces back open.”

  His eyes widened. “Are you serious? You didn’t lock it?”

  “I locked it from the inside. When I’m running behind I don’t usually lock the dead bolt. The gate locks, and we have barbed wire around the property.” She pulled out her phone. “Which reminds me, I should lock the gate now.”

  She clicked in the access code, turned and squinted in order to see the gate’s remote response in action. At the first sight of movement she headed up the front steps. “Let’s get to that tea.”

  The faster she could down a cuppa, the faster she could hustle Luke out the door and focus on finding a solution to save her aunt. She pressed open the door and stepped inside.

  The chairs in the entryway were slashed, bits of stuffing covering the marbled flooring. Why’d they need to go to such lengths? Surely they didn’t expect to find something in the cushions of the chair. Had someone destroyed everything for the fun of it?

  Luke’s hand tugged on her shoulder. “I’m calling the police.”

  “I don’t think so.” A man dressed all in black strode around the corner. He lifted his right arm and aimed a gun at her chest. “We need to have a little chat.”

  Gabriella gasped as Luke stepped in front of her, shielding her. Another mafia member? Why was he here if they’d already searched the house?

  Gabriella stared at the man’s balding head, green eyes and five o’clock shadow. The gunman shook his weapon at Luke. “Get out of the way.”

  “I will not,” Luke said.

  While touched by his chivalry, she knew Luke would only escalate the problem. Gabriella’s hand pressed
into his back as her chin poked around his arm. “I thought I had twenty-four hours.”

  Luke’s back stiffened under her fingertips. She’d let the cat out of the bag now. He knew she was keeping something from him.

  Uncertainty crossed the gunman’s features, but he blinked it away. “The timeline’s been moved up,” he said.

  Her gut churned. If he wasn’t on the same page as Benito, why was he here?

  “Take what you want and leave,” Luke said.

  He scoffed. “I don’t want your garbage.” His eyes drifted to Gabriella. “I think she knows what I want.”

  So he was part of the mafia, then. Gabriella’s throat tightened. “Benito didn’t mention you.”

  He sneered. “Of course not. He’s a punk with no manners. I’m Rodrigo Valenti. I worked for your uncle for years.”

  “As I told Benito, I never even met this so-called uncle.”

  He shrugged. “But your mama did. I heard all about it from your uncle before he passed.”

  All the talk of supposed relatives made her mad enough to almost forget about the gun. Almost. “Despite whatever you may have heard, I have no idea where this supposed evidence is. There’s been a mistake. Mistaken identity. You have the wrong family.”

  He acted as though he didn’t hear her. “I worked for your uncle Claudio for years, may he rest in peace, and he would’ve wanted you to give me the evidence instead of Benito.”

  Luke glanced at her over his shoulder, wide-eyed. She didn’t know what to say. How had she ended up in the middle of what looked to be a mafia feud?

  She pursed her lips, ready to launch into another rant about it all being a mistake and how she couldn’t care less about some mysterious, fake uncle. But after two tries, she knew it’d do no good, and if she wanted to keep Luke safe, she might as well placate them. “Why would he have wanted me to give it to you?”

  He waved his gun. “So I don’t have to kill you.”

  THREE

  Luke looked between the gunman and Gabriella, trying to make sense out of the situation. He clenched his fists and took a small step backward, trying to push Gabriella back outside, farther away from the gunman.