THE MAFIA BOSS WATCHED ME STRUGGLE TO CARRY A HEAVY SILVER CENTERPIECE—THEN HIS FIANCÉE MADE A FATAL SLIP OF THE TONGUE

The kitchen went dead silent except for the sound of my mother's ragged breathing and the distant hum of traffic on Fullerton Avenue.

Luca stared at the glowing screen of Dr. Harris's phone on the linoleum floor.

ELENA MORETTI.

With a slow, deliberate movement, Luca picked up the phone and swiped to answer. He didn't put it on speaker this time. He pressed it to his ear.

"Elena," he whispered.

I held Maya tightly against my good side, watching the mafia boss's face. For ten months, I had seen Luca Moretti handle union strikes, federal subpoenas, and rival threats without a single crack in his composure.

Now, as he listened to the voice on the other end of the line, his shoulders sagged. A look of devastating betrayal washed across his sharp features.

"Where is Leo?" Luca asked, his voice dropping to a low, dangerous rasp.

He listened for another ten seconds.

"You're lying," Luca said coldly. "Harris is unconscious on the floor in front of me. And I have the Saint Christopher medal."

Whatever she said next made Luca's eyes flick directly to me, and then down to Maya tucked under my arm.

The line clicked dead.

Luca slowly lowered the phone. He looked at Daniel, who was standing by the kitchen sink with a towel wrapped around my mother's trembling shoulders.

"It wasn't Viktor Bellini holding her," Luca said, his voice hollow.

Daniel frowned. "Then who?"

"Nobody," Luca said. "Elena faked her own death three years ago."

I stared at him in disbelief, gently setting Maya down into my mother's lap. "Your sister faked her own drowning? Why?"

"Because three years ago, five million dollars went missing from our Southside casino skims," Luca said, each word sounding like it was being dragged over broken glass. "My father thought it was Elena's husband, Marco. My father had Marco executed. Two weeks later, Elena's car went into the river."

"Jesus," Daniel breathed, crossing himself. "She stole the money."

"She stole the money with Dr. Harris and Vanessa," Luca said, looking down at the unconscious doctor at his feet. "Harris falsified the autopsy reports on two Jane Doe bodies from the county morgue. Elena took Leo and disappeared to Montreal. Until the money ran out this summer."

"Wait," I said, stepping forward as the pieces of the puzzle shifted violently in my head. "If Elena and Vanessa were working together, why did Leo call you on the red phone tonight saying the lady in the red dress was going to hurt his mom?"

Luca looked down at the Union Station locker key in his hand.

"Because Vanessa got greedy," Luca said. "When I agreed to marry Vanessa to seal the port truce with her father, Elena realized Vanessa was about to get access to the main Moretti family trusts—and Vanessa was going to cut Elena out completely. So Elena came back to Chicago with Andrew Keller to blackmail Vanessa with the proof of the fake autopsy."

"And Vanessa turned the tables on her today," I whispered, remembering the argument I had overheard in the upstairs guest room at 3:45.

She told him the buyers at the pier wouldn't wait past midnight.

"Vanessa didn't kidnap Leo to force Elena's hand," I said, my voice rising as a horrifying realization hit me. "When I walked into that guest room, Vanessa had a tranquilizer syringe in her hand. That's why she panicked and shoved me! She had already given it to Keller to use on Elena!"

Luca grabbed Dr. Harris by the collar of his shirt and hauled him upright, slapping him hard across the face until the older man's eyes fluttered open.

"Where is my nephew, Arthur?" Luca snarled, pressing the glass vial of paralytic against the doctor's neck. "Elena just called your phone from a voice changer, didn't she? That wasn't Elena on the phone!"

Dr. Harris coughed, blood trickling from the corner of his mouth. Even with a broken jaw, a sick, panicked laugh escaped his throat.

"That was Vanessa," Harris slurred. "Elena has been dead in the back of Keller's van since six o'clock tonight. She overdosed on the sedative Keller gave her at the motel."

Luca froze, the color draining completely from his face.

His sister was really gone this time.

For three seconds, I thought Luca was going to snap the doctor's neck right there in my kitchen. His hand tightened around Harris's throat until the man's face turned purple.

"Mr. Moretti, stop!" I cried, grabbing Luca's wrist with my good left hand. "If you kill him, we won't find Leo! That little boy is still alive!"

Luca's chest heaved. Slowly, he looked from my small hand gripping his forearm down to my terrified mother and daughter in the corner.

He let go of Harris, letting the doctor slump back against the refrigerator.

"Where is the boy, Arthur?" Luca whispered.

"He's not at Pier 42," Harris gasped, rubbing his throat. "That was a decoy to get your men to the south side so Viktor's coast guard patrol would arrest you for breaking the truce."

"Then where is he?"

Harris looked at the brass key in Luca's hand.

"Union Station," Harris croaked. "The old baggage tunnels under Canal Street. Keller locked the boy in a freight crate scheduled to go out on the 11:45 mail train to St. Louis. Vanessa told him once she crossed the state line with the bearer bonds from the Union Station locker, she'd call and give you the crate number."

I looked up at the round plastic clock hanging above my stove.

It was 11:22 P.M.