Chapter 8 - THE TRAP ON MICHIGAN AVENUE
By midnight, the photograph had been forwarded to Agent Brooks.
She called less than fifteen minutes later.
“Dante, where did you get this?”
“An unknown number.”
“Do not respond.”
“Victor has her.”
“We don't know that yet.”
I looked at the photograph again.
Maya was sitting against a concrete wall.
A fluorescent light illuminated half her face.
There was a dark stain on the shoulder of her sweater.
I couldn't tell whether it was blood or dirt.
“Brooks, I've known Victor twenty years. He doesn't send threats he doesn't think he can carry out.”
“I understand that.”
“No, you don't.”
There was a pause.
Then she spoke more firmly.
“Mr. Moretti, I understand that a woman may have been abducted, your family has been threatened, and the man you're accusing has access to money, personnel, and vehicles. What I need is evidence that helps us find her, not a confrontation that gets someone killed.”
I said nothing.
Because she was right.
Again.
That was becoming an uncomfortable pattern.
The protected residence Brooks arranged was a modest house in a quiet suburb west of Chicago.
It had three bedrooms, a small backyard, and a kitchen with yellow curtains.
There was no marble staircase.
No private theater.
No wine cellar.
Sophie loved it immediately.
“Daddy, look! There's a tree outside the bedroom!”
Ruby examined the bunk beds.
“Do we both sleep here?”
“If you want,” Elena said.
Sophie climbed onto the bottom bunk.
“I call this one.”
Ruby pointed upward.
“Can I have the top?”
Elena hesitated.
“Let's use separate regular beds for now, sweetheart. You're both still little.”
Sophie made a face.
“Mommy, we're almost six.”
The word came out naturally.
Mommy.
Elena went still.
Sophie noticed.
“Is it okay if I call you that?”
Elena's eyes filled with tears.
She knelt in front of her.
“Sweetheart, you can call me whatever feels comfortable.”
Sophie thought about it.
“Then I want to call you Mommy.”
Elena wrapped her arms around her.
I turned toward the window.
I had watched men sign contracts worth tens of millions.
I'd watched politicians shake hands with people they publicly condemned.
I'd watched the city bend around money and influence.
But nothing I'd ever seen was as powerful as a mother hearing her daughter call her Mommy for the first time.
Ruby climbed into their embrace.
“Now we're all together.”
Elena held both girls.
“Yes, baby.”
I stood several feet away.
Then Sophie looked toward me.
“Daddy, come here.”
I hesitated.
She extended her hand.
“It's a family hug.”
I joined them.
For one brief moment, nobody was missing.
The next morning, Brooks returned with Grace.
She had information.
“The message Elena received about meeting Maya Ellis was sent through an account created recently,” she explained.
Elena frowned.
“What does that mean?”
“It means we can't establish that Maya sent it.”
I looked at her.
“Victor could have impersonated her.”
“That's one possibility.”
“Why?”
Brooks opened her folder.
“We've traced several calls made from a number associated with Victor's business operations. They placed someone near the flower stand that afternoon.”
Elena's hands tightened.
“So he was watching me.”
“It appears someone was.”
Grace leaned forward.
“Could Victor have arranged the meeting because he believed Elena was carrying evidence?”
Brooks nodded.
“That's our leading theory.”
I thought back to the sidewalk.
Ruby standing alone.
Sophie noticing her face.
Elena rushing through the crowd.
Victor stepping out of the SUV.
The terror in his eyes.
Suddenly, the pieces began to fit.
Victor had planned to intercept Elena near the flower stand.
He had ordered our driver to bring us there, possibly to keep me occupied while his men took her or to use my security team as cover.
But he had failed to account for two five-year-old girls.
Sophie had seen Ruby.
Ruby had stopped to talk.
And in those few minutes, the truth had surfaced faster than Victor could contain it.
I looked at Elena.
“Our daughters ruined his plan.”
She gave a sad smile.
“They saved us from it.”
Brooks placed another photograph on the table.
It was taken from a traffic camera near Michigan Avenue.
A woman with Maya's hairstyle stood beside a dark van.
A man appeared to be holding her arm.
The timestamp was 2:41 p.m.
Less than half an hour after my encounter with Victor.
“We're working to identify the van,” Brooks said.
“Do you know where they went?”
“Not yet.”
Elena leaned forward.
“There's something you should know about Maya.”
Brooks looked at her.
“She was asking about a place called Blackbird House.”
I frowned.
“That was the original name of the charitable program.”
“Yes,” Elena said. “Before Victor changed it into the Blackbird Family Fund.”
“What was Blackbird House?”
“A temporary residence for women and children who needed safe shelter.”
I remembered Elena speaking about it years ago.
She had wanted a place where women could rebuild their lives without being judged for what they were escaping.
We had argued about the funding.
I thought it was a small project.
She thought it was worth everything.
I had given her the money.
Victor had offered to handle the paperwork.
Now I understood what a terrible mistake that had been.
Elena continued.
“Maya believed the house was connected to several unexplained disappearances. She said the original records had been moved when Saint Agnes closed its old maternity wing.”
Brooks wrote something down.
“Do you know where those records went?”
“No.”
Elena hesitated.
“But I know someone who might.”
“Who?”
“Evelyn.”
Evelyn arrived that afternoon.
When Brooks showed her Maya's photograph, she covered her mouth.
“I've seen that room.”
Everyone turned toward her.
“Where?” Brooks asked.
Evelyn studied the image.
“The concrete wall. The green paint near the floor. The old electrical panel.”
“Can you identify the building?”
“Not from this alone.”
She looked toward Elena.
“Do you remember the printing company that made the Blackbird House pamphlets?”
Elena frowned.
“Lakefront Printworks?”
“Yes.”
Evelyn pointed to the photograph.
“They had a basement storage room exactly like this. I helped pack donated clothing there once.”
Brooks immediately contacted her team.
I could see her evaluating the information.
A location.
A possible hostage.
A reason Victor might use the building.
For the first time, we had somewhere concrete to look.
“That's on the Northwest Side,” Brooks said.
Evelyn nodded.
“The company closed two years ago.”
Brooks stood.
“We'll check ownership records and get people there.”
I stood too.
“I'm coming.”
“No.”
“She's being held because she tried to help my wife.”
“And bringing you to a possible hostage location could endanger everyone.”
I stared at her.
“You expect me to sit here?”
“I expect you to do something more difficult than giving orders.”
“What?”
“Trust people who are trying to help.”
Those words stayed with me.
Because that was exactly what I had failed to do five years earlier.
I had trusted the wrong man.
Now I had to learn the difference between trust and surrendering responsibility.
Brooks headed for the door.
“Keep your phone on.”
That evening, Sophie and Ruby sat at the kitchen table making paper birds.
Elena had shown them how to fold the wings.
Sophie colored hers pink.
Ruby colored hers blue.
I watched them carefully.
“Why birds?” I asked.
Ruby touched the silver necklace at her throat.
“Because Mommy says birds can always find their way home.”
Sophie held up her paper bird.
“Even if they get lost?”
Elena smiled.
“Even then.”
I looked at the little blackbird pendant.
Six years ago, I had given it to Elena as a promise.
I'd told her that no cage could hold something meant to fly.
Yet the people I trusted had built cages around everyone I loved.
And I had spent years living inside the largest cage of all.
My own power.
At 9:18 p.m., Brooks called.
Her voice was controlled, but urgent.
“We found Lakefront Printworks.”
I stood.
“Was Maya there?”
“Yes.”
“Is she alive?”
“She is. Our team got her out.”
I closed my eyes.
“Thank God.”
“But there's something you need to know.”
“What?”
“She had a recording with her. It was hidden in her clothing.”
I looked toward Elena.
“Of Victor?”
“Yes.”
Brooks paused.
“Dante, Maya recorded Victor discussing your daughters.”
My pulse quickened.
“What did he say?”
“I'm sending Grace the relevant transcript.”
Minutes later, Grace forwarded it.
I opened the document.
May you like
The final line made my hands go numb.
VICTOR HALE: “I gave Dante one baby so he'd stay loyal. I kept the other with Elena so she'd keep her mouth shut. And neither of them ever realized I owned both their lives.”
