Chapter 5 - The Brother He Doubted

Leo did not sleep.

Beatrice knew because she found him at three in the morning sitting on the lake house porch without a coat, staring at black water through the trees.

She stood in the doorway wrapped in a blanket.

“You will freeze.”

“I’m fine.”

“That phrase is becoming irritating.”

He glanced at her. “You use it constantly.”

“Yes. That is how I know.”

She stepped outside and held the second blanket toward him.

He accepted it.

For several minutes, neither spoke.

Then Leo said, “I want to kill Dominic.”

Beatrice did not pretend to misunderstand.

“And Victoria.”

He looked at the lake.

“And Vale.”

“Probably Alistair too.”

“Yes.”

Beatrice pulled the blanket tighter around her shoulders.

“Do you want me to tell you that would make you as bad as them?”

“No.”

“Good, because I don’t think that is the useful argument.”

That got his attention.

“What is?”

“If you kill everyone who knows what happened, Lily grows up with a story instead of the truth.”

Leo said nothing.

“She deserves the truth,” Beatrice continued. “Sofia deserves the truth. You deserve it too.”

“I know enough.”

“No. You know pieces.”

“I know Victoria ordered your death.”

“You know she said words on a phone. You still don’t know who planned the bombing, why Sofia’s files mattered, what Dr. Vale injected, why Dominic helped them, or why Alistair needed your shipping network.”

Leo leaned back.

“You sound like Mateo.”

“He is smarter than you when you are angry.”

“That is a dangerous sentence.”

“It remains true.”

He almost smiled.

Then his expression changed.

“Why are you helping me?”

Beatrice looked at him.

“I told you. Lily.”

“Only Lily?”

The question carried something neither of them was ready to name.

Beatrice looked back at the water.

“Ask me after no one is trying to murder us.”

Leo let out a quiet breath.

“Fair.”

At breakfast, Mateo arrived with a bruise on his jaw and fury in his eyes.

“What happened to you?” Leo asked.

“Dominic happened.”

Beatrice stood. “You confronted him?”

“He figured out we were recording him before we could close the exits.”

Leo’s face hardened. “Where is he?”

“Gone.”

“You lost him.”

“I prevented him from shooting one of our men and leaving in a vehicle registered to Kensington Security.”

“So you lost him.”

Mateo threw a folder onto the table.

“I also got this from his office.”

Leo opened it.

Inside were copies of old payroll records, coded cash transfers, and photographs of Sofia’s car after the bombing.

Beatrice leaned closer.

One photograph had been taken before investigators arrived.

A man crouched beside the ruined passenger door.

Dr. Vale.

Another showed Dominic standing twenty feet away.

Leo looked at Mateo.

“Where did he go?”

“We traced a vehicle south, then lost it.”

“Find him.”

“I am.”

Leo’s gaze sharpened. “Are you?”

Mateo went still.

Beatrice felt the temperature in the room change.

“What does that mean?” Mateo asked.

Leo removed another sheet from the folder.

It was a bank transfer.

Initials appeared in the authorization field.

M.C.

Mateo stared at it.

“That is not me.”

Leo did not answer.

“Leo.”

“Your initials.”

“So are half the men named Michael Carter.”

“This account paid Dominic six days before Sofia died.”

Mateo’s face hardened.

“And you think I paid him?”

“I think I have buried one person because I trusted the wrong people.”

Mateo stepped back as if struck.

Beatrice said, “Stop.”

Neither man listened.

Mateo pointed at the folder.

“I spent two years investigating this in secret.”

“You spent two years hiding information from me.”

“To protect you.”

“Do you hear how stupid that sounds now?”

“Yes.” Mateo’s voice rose. “Every night.”

Lily appeared in the doorway.

“Daddy?”

Both men froze.

Beatrice moved first.

“Hey, sweetheart.”

Lily looked from Leo to Mateo.

“Are you fighting?”

Mateo lowered his voice. “We disagree.”

“You were yelling.”

Leo crouched. “I’m sorry.”

“Uncle Mateo is family.”

Mateo looked away.

Lily frowned at her father. “You said family doesn’t leave.”

Leo’s face tightened.

“I did.”

“Then don’t make him leave.”

Nobody spoke.

Beatrice took Lily to the kitchen for cereal.

When she returned ten minutes later, Leo and Mateo sat on opposite sides of the table.

No one was yelling.

Mateo held a small black phone.

“What is that?” Beatrice asked.

“A burner Sofia gave me.”

Leo looked at him. “Apparently he kept it for two years.”

Mateo ignored the tone.

“She called me from it three times. I thought the messages were gone after the battery died, but I kept the phone anyway.”

“Why?”

“Because grief makes men sentimental about stupid objects.”

Beatrice sat.

“I took it to someone I trust. They recovered one voicemail.”

He pressed play.

Sofia’s voice filled the room.

“Mateo, I found out what M.C. means. It isn’t a person. It’s Medical Corridor. The transfers are disguised as clinic corridor renovation expenses. Vale signs them. Please tell Leo before I lose my nerve.”

The message ended.

Leo closed his eyes.

Mateo said nothing.

A long moment passed.

Then Leo stood.

“I was wrong.”

Mateo stared at him.

Leo’s jaw worked as though the next words hurt more.

“I should not have accused you.”

Mateo folded his arms. “No, you shouldn’t have.”

“I said I was wrong.”

“I heard you.”

“Do you want me to kneel?”

“I want you to stop assuming betrayal every time evidence is incomplete.”

“That is rich coming from a man who hid evidence.”

Beatrice slammed her palm on the table.

Both men looked at her.

She winced because she had used the injured hand.

“Fantastic. We have established that both of you are emotionally constipated and terrible at trust. Can we continue?”

Mateo blinked.

Leo stared at her.

Then Mateo laughed.

It started quietly and became helpless.

Leo fought it for three seconds before laughing too.

Beatrice looked between them.

“I was serious.”

“That is why it is funny,” Mateo said.

The laughter did not erase the fracture, but it made room around it.

Mateo opened another file.

“The recovered voicemail gives us something else. Medical Corridor payments match six Kensington Foundation clinics.”

“Closed clinics?” Beatrice asked.

“Four are closed. Two exist only on paper.”

Leo frowned. “Money laundering.”

“Probably. But Sofia said they were moving something.”

Beatrice studied the manifests.

“Oxygen equipment.”

“Yes.”

“Large crates?”

“Some.”

“What was really inside?”

“We don’t know.”

Leo said, “We may never need to. If the financial crimes connect Kensington, Vale, Dominic, and Victoria—”

“They connect motive,” Beatrice said. “Not Sofia’s murder.”

Mateo nodded.

She looked through the manifests again.

One line caught her eye.

BLUE FINCH / CATERING / SHORE HOUSE.

“Wait.”

“What?” Leo asked.

“Blue Finch.”

“Sofia mentioned that code.”

“I know.”

Beatrice pointed to the document.

“There was a Blue Finch label in the old pantry.”

Leo frowned. “What?”

“Years ago. Sofia used blue bird stickers to mark allergy-safe foods for Lily.”

Mateo leaned closer.

“Could be coincidence.”

“Maybe.”

“Where did she keep them?”

“In the old shore house kitchen.”

Leo looked at Mateo.

The shore house was a smaller property on the north side of the estate, unused since Sofia’s death.

“Search it,” Leo said.

“I’ll send—”

“No,” Beatrice interrupted.

Leo frowned.

“If Sofia hid evidence there, sending a security team announces that we found the connection.”

Mateo nodded slowly.

“She has a point.”

Leo looked annoyed by how often that was happening.

“Then who goes?”

Beatrice raised her hand slightly.

“You are not going alone.”

“I did not say alone.”

“You are injured.”

“I can still read pantry labels.”

Mateo stood. “I’ll take her.”

Leo’s answer came too fast. “No.”

Mateo’s eyebrows rose.

Beatrice looked at Leo.

He realized what he had revealed and corrected himself.

“I mean no one goes without me.”

Mateo’s smile was infuriatingly subtle.

“Of course.”

The shore house smelled of dust and lake water.

Beatrice entered the kitchen first.

Most cabinets had been emptied years ago, but the pantry shelves remained.

She ran her fingers along the wood.

“Here.”

A faded blue bird sticker clung beneath the bottom shelf.

Leo crouched beside her.

“There’s nothing here.”

“The sticker is upside down.”

“So?”

“Sofia was meticulous. She would never put it upside down.”

Beatrice pressed the shelf.

Nothing.

Mateo examined the wall.

“Try lifting.”

Leo pulled.

The shelf came free.

Behind it was a narrow cavity containing a wrapped ledger and a recipe tin.

Mateo let out a low whistle.

“Sofia.”

Leo touched the ledger as if touching his wife’s hand.

Then a floorboard creaked in the hall.

Mateo turned.

“Down.”

The kitchen window shattered.

Beatrice dropped as glass sprayed over the counter.

Leo pulled her behind the island.

Another impact struck the wall.

Mateo drew his weapon and moved toward the side doorway.

“Stay here.”

Beatrice’s heart hammered.

Leo covered her with his body.

“Are you hit?”

“No.”

“Check.”

“I’m not hit.”

A vehicle engine roared outside.

Mateo ran to the window.

“They’re leaving.”

Leo started to rise.

Beatrice grabbed his sleeve.

“Don’t.”

He looked at her.

“That is what they want. They want you chasing.”

Mateo returned, breathing hard.

“She’s right.”

Leo looked between them. “I am surrounded by people who enjoy telling me no.”

“Character building,” Mateo said.

Beatrice picked up the recipe tin.

Inside were index cards in Sofia’s handwriting.

Chocolate cake.

Chicken soup.

Lily’s allergy-safe shortbread.

Then one card with no recipe at all.

Only a sequence of numbers and a handwritten sentence.

Ask Celia why the dead woman kept cooking.

Leo stared at the name.

“Celia Grant.”

Beatrice knew it too.

May you like

[COMPLETED] She waited ten years for her fiancé, but the night she marri...

[COMPLETED] Five Years After My Mafia Husband Chose Another Woman, He Me...

[COMPLETED] I CALLED MY HUSBAND 18 TIMES WHILE OUR SON WAS DYING. EIGHT...

The former head housekeeper.

The woman who had disappeared from the Rossi estate three days after Sofia’s funeral.