Chapter 6 - The Woman Who Told Him No
Matteo called Adrian before they reached the parking lot.
“Two people at Morgan Towing. Quietly.”
Riley turned.
“No.”
He lowered the phone.
“What?”
“No armed-looking security team at my family business.”
“I didn’t say armed.”
“You didn’t need to.”
“Someone threatened your father.”
“And your men showing up will solve that?”
“They’ll make it harder to reach him.”
“They’ll also make every customer think we’re running a criminal operation.”
Matteo stared at her.
“You are remarkably stubborn.”
“You met me while I was towing your Lamborghini.”
“Fair.”
He spoke into the phone.
“Plain clothes. No visible weapons. Keep distance.”
Riley sighed.
“I didn’t agree.”
“You didn’t say no to that version.”
“I hate how fast you learn.”
They reached Morgan Towing forty minutes later.
Patrick was unharmed.
Connor was furious.
“You were gone three hours!”
“We were searching archives.”
“You could answer your phone.”
Riley looked.
Seven missed calls.
“Sorry.”
Patrick saw her expression.
“What happened?”
She showed him the photograph and message.
Patrick sat slowly.
Connor swore.
Matteo placed the Union Central record on the desk.
Patrick looked at Thomas Bell’s name.
His face hardened.
“So he was involved.”
“You knew him?” Matteo asked.
“Yes.”
“How?”
“He was your father’s lawyer.”
“I know that.”
“He was also the man who arranged the first meeting between Salvatore and Ellen.”
Matteo absorbed that.
“Did you trust him?”
Patrick gave a humorless laugh.
“Your father did.”
Matteo looked away.
Riley saw something in him she had not expected.
Hurt.
Not anger.
Not menace.
The quiet pain of discovering that someone woven through your entire life might have been lying.
She understood that kind of pain.
Family secrets were democratic.
They hurt rich men and tow operators equally.
That evening, Adrian and Luca arrived dressed like ordinary contractors.
Patrick disliked the arrangement.
Connor liked it far too much.
Riley stood outside as Matteo prepared to leave.
“You don’t have to stay involved,” she said.
“Yes, I do.”
“Because of your father?”
“Partly.”
“And the other part?”
Matteo looked at her.
“You.”
Riley’s pulse skipped.
She immediately disliked that.
“You barely know me.”
“I know you refused six million dollars without asking for more.”
“I didn’t refuse because I’m noble. I refused because the offer smelled wrong.”
“I know.”
“I also towed your car.”
“I remember.”
“You’re strangely cheerful about that now.”
“It was educational.”
“How?”
“I discovered someone in Chicago who genuinely does not care who I am.”
Riley folded her arms.
“That sounds lonely.”
The words escaped before she could reconsider them.
Matteo’s expression changed.
For a moment the polished confidence disappeared.
“It can be.”
Riley looked away.
That answer felt too personal.
“You should go.”
“I probably should.”
He did not move.
Neither did she.
The city hummed beyond the fence.
A train rattled somewhere in the distance.
Finally Matteo said, “Dinner tomorrow.”
Riley blinked.
“Excuse me?”
“With me.”
“No.”
“You answer quickly.”
“I practice.”
“It isn’t a business meeting.”
“That makes it worse.”
“I know a restaurant where nobody will bother us.”
“Is it yours?”
“Yes.”
“Then everyone will bother us.”
He smiled.
“Seven-thirty.”
“I said no.”
“I heard you.”
“Good.”
“I’ll ask again tomorrow.”
“Why?”
“Because yesterday you told me to get out of your truck three times, and eventually you drove me across town.”
“That logic is deeply flawed.”
“But historically supported.”
Riley laughed despite herself.
Matteo opened his SUV door.
Then turned.
“Seven-thirty.”
“No.”
He got in.
She watched the SUV disappear.
Connor’s voice came behind her.
“You’re going.”
Riley turned.
“No.”
“You’re absolutely going.”
“No.”
Connor grinned.
“You like him.”
“I towed him.”
“Not mutually exclusive.”
“Go fix something.”
“I’m serious.”
“So am I.”
Connor walked inside still smiling.
Riley remained at the gate.
Across the street, Adrian sat inside an ordinary sedan.
He gave Riley a small nod.
She nodded back.
Then her phone rang.
Unknown number.
Her stomach tightened.
She answered carefully.
“Hello?”
A woman spoke.
“Is this Riley Morgan?”
“Yes.”
“My name is Sofia Duca.”
Riley closed her eyes.
Of course.
Matteo’s family.
“I hope I’m not bothering you.”
“What can I do for you?”
“My brother tells me you towed his car yesterday.”
Riley waited.
Then Sofia laughed.
A warm, delighted laugh.
“I’ve been waiting fifteen years for someone to do that.”
Riley could not help smiling.
“You’re welcome?”
“I also understand he asked you to dinner.”
Riley stared toward the road.
“How do you know that?”
“He called me.”
“Why?”
“To ask where a man should take a woman who dislikes expensive restaurants.”
Riley covered her eyes with one hand.
“This is not happening.”
“I told him the answer was probably somewhere that serves food without a waiting list.”
“I appreciate your contribution.”
“He’s terrible at normal situations.”
“So I’ve noticed.”
Sofia’s voice softened.
“Riley, there is another reason I called.”
Riley’s smile disappeared.
“What?”
“My father kept a private office at our old family home. Matteo hasn’t used it since he died.”
“And?”
“I found something tonight.”
Riley gripped the phone.
“What?”
“A photograph.”
“Of?”
“Your mother.”
Riley stopped breathing.
Sofia continued.
“She’s standing beside my father and Thomas Bell.”
“When?”
“September 2001.”
Riley did the math.
Weeks before Salvatore Duca died.
“There’s something written on the back.”
“What?”
Sofia hesitated.
Then read it.
“Ellen has the original. Thomas has the copy. If anything happens to me, trust Ellen.”
Riley felt the ground tilt.
“Does Matteo know?”
“Not yet.”
“Why call me first?”
“Because there’s something else.”
Riley waited.
“The photograph was hidden inside a book.”
“What book?”
“A Chicago property atlas.”
Riley’s heart accelerated.
“One page was marked.”
“Where?”
“Morgan Towing.”
Riley stared at the garage.
“What was marked?”
“A section underneath your property.”
“The tunnel?”
Sofia went silent.
“You know about it?”
“Yes.”
“Then you need to know what my father circled.”
“What?”
“The tunnel doesn’t end at the river.”
Riley’s skin prickled.
“Where does it go?”
“According to the original map, it runs beneath three blocks.”
“Toward what?”
Sofia answered.
“The old Midwest Continental Bank building.”
Riley remembered Matteo’s question in the truck.
Which bank?
Midwest Continental.
The same bank involved in her father’s disastrous refinancing.
The same era.
The same land.
The same players.
“Riley?”
“I’m here.”
“I think whatever our parents were protecting may still be underneath your property.”
Riley looked toward the sealed rear garage.
The building the city had conveniently declared unsafe.
The section she had been ordered not to enter.
She understood now.
Whitmore did not only want the land.
He wanted something beneath it.
And if Ellen Morgan had spent her final years believing Riley would know where to look, then perhaps the answer had been sitting beneath her family’s feet the entire time.
Riley turned toward the garage.
Connor stepped outside.
“What happened?”
She lowered the phone.
“Get Dad.”
“Why?”
Riley stared at the city notice taped across the rear door.
May you like
“Because I think I know why they shut us down.”
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