Chapter 5 - The Wooden Music Box and the Hidden Ledger
I shrank back against the leather seats of the SUV, my mind racing in pure, unadulterated panic.
The wooden music box.
Yesterday, while dusting Arthur’s suite in the guest wing, I had found a small, intricately carved wooden music box sitting near the trash can. It was beautiful, but the lid was cracked. Assuming one of the guests had discarded it, I had taken it to the staff breakroom, intending to fix it for the charity donation bin.
I hadn't thrown it away. It was sitting in my apron locker.
“It’s in the staff quarters,” I stammered, my voice trembling. “In my locker.”
Arthur’s eyes flashed with predatory relief. “Get it. Now.”
He grabbed me by the arm and hauled me out of the SUV. Keeping a brutal grip on my wrist, he marched me back up a secondary service stairwell that bypassed the locked dining room, leading straight into the staff locker room.
The room was empty, smelling faintly of bleach and stale coffee.
“Open it,” Arthur commanded, shoving me toward locker number four.
My hands shook so badly I dropped my keys twice before finally popping the padlock. I reached onto the top shelf and pulled down the small wooden music box. It was heavy, heavier than it should have been for a hollow piece of wood.
Arthur snatched it from my hands with a triumphant laugh.
“You have no idea what you almost ruined, little girl,” Arthur sneered. He pressed his thumbs hard against the intricately carved roses on the bottom panel.
With a sharp click, the false bottom of the music box slid open.
Inside wasn't a musical cylinder. It was a tiny, tightly rolled bundle of micro-SD cards and a small black leather ledger notebook.
“Three years of off-the-books transactions,” Arthur said, holding the ledger up to the harsh fluorescent light. “Proof that I own sixty percent of Vincent’s shell companies. With this, the Morelli empire belongs entirely to me.”
He shoved the ledger into his coat pocket and turned to his bodyguard. “Lock her in the supply closet. We’re leaving.”
But before the bodyguard could grab me, the locker room door swung open.
Daniel stood in the doorway. A dark bruise was already forming on his jaw, and a cut above his eyebrow was bleeding freely, but his eyes burned with a terrifying, desperate fire.
In his right hand, he held a heavy iron fire poker he had taken from the dining room hearth.
“You’re not going anywhere, Arthur,” Daniel said, stepping fully into the room and blocking the exit. “Tell me where my son is.”
Arthur rolled his eyes, utterly unimpressed. “Daniel, you are a failed waiter and a cuckolded husband. Put the stick down before my man shoots you.”
The bodyguard raised his pistol, aiming it directly at Daniel’s chest.
I didn't think. I reacted purely on instinct, exactly as I had when I knocked the wine glass from Natalie’s hand.
I grabbed the heavy aerosol can of industrial oven cleaner from my locker and sprayed it directly into the bodyguard’s eyes.
The man screamed in agony, dropping his weapon and clawing at his face.
Daniel swung the iron poker, striking Arthur squarely in the ribs. Arthur gasped in pain, dropping the wooden music box as he crumpled to his knees.
I dove for the floor, snatching the black leather ledger before Arthur could reach it.
Daniel grabbed Arthur by the collar, hauling him up so they were face to face. “Where is Leo?!”
Arthur coughed, a bloody smile spreading across his teeth. “You’re too late. The boy isn't at a safe house. He’s at Dock 4. My men have orders to put him on a cargo freighter bound for South America at exactly eleven o'clock if I don't call them.”
Daniel checked his watch. It was ten-forty.
“We have twenty minutes,” Daniel said, his face paling. He looked at me, seeing the ledger clutched tightly against my chest. “Elena, run back to the dining room. Give that to Vincent. Tell him where Arthur is.”
“No,” I said, my voice surprisingly steady. I shoved the ledger deep into the pocket of my apron. “If I leave you here alone, Arthur’s men will kill you. I’m coming with you to the docks.”
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Daniel looked at me, astonished by my defiance, but there was no time to argue.
We dragged Arthur to his feet, using him as a human shield, and pushed him out into the rain-soaked night.
