Chapter 7
Chapter seven
Now that we know where the shots were fired, the only question is how did the killer get up to the balcony when the area was heavily guarded.
After spending some time on the porch, Dominic follows me into the living room.
The curtains are half-drawn and the blinds are narrow slits.
After the incident, I don’t want anyone to be able to see into my house.
Even though our compound is a cul-da-sac with only my house, Mama’s, Gigi’s, Matteo’s, and Lucia’s along with a gated entrance, I don’t trust anyone.
Filtered sunlight spills across the hardwood floor as I place my phone on the coffee table and grab my laptop.
“Sit,” I command Dominic, gesturing toward the arm chair as I sink into the couch.
He raises an eyebrow but obeys dropping into the leather recliner across from me.
Flipping the lid of my laptop open I try not to stare at him for too long.
Instead I try to focus on the screen as I enter email usernames and passwords.
However, glimpses of the past fill my mind.
It’s crazy how this law-abiding grump used to be the boy who sat beside me in my parent’s living room and held my hand beneath a blanket.
We used to watch comedies and dream of a life we’d never have to shed blood for.
Dominic sits comfortable in the chair like he owns the place and continues to scribble in his notebook.
As I wait for the page to load, I glance at the brick fireplace that’s decorated in autumn decor. Leaf garland, pumpkins, and mums brighten the space. I snatch up the remote and turn on the gas fireplace. Flames splutter to life.
“Isn’t it a little warm for a fire?” Dominic asks, his eyes fixated on the glow.
“It’s October, it’s never too warm for a fire,” I chuckle as I enter my login credentials. “I’m going to send you the footage to your laptop. What’s your email?”
He tears a page from his notebook and writes it down. “My email is secure and can’t be hacked.”
He slides the paper over to me like we’re doing a secret exchange.
“Good. I’m going to send you the exterior feeds, second-floor corridor angles, and all the footage from the ballroom.
” I glance at the screen. “Our security footage was definitely hacked. The cameras went black around 8:41 pm. The shots were fired at 8:43 pm and then the cameras went back on at 8:49.” I rest my chin in my hand.
This was an inside job. Our surveillance is protected by multiple layers of encryption and very few people know the codes.
Dominic glances over at my laptop screen. “You’ve really upgraded your tech since your dad was in charge. I noticed all the cameras when I arrived.”
“We had to,” I reply as I wait for the file to upload.
“You wouldn’t have to, if you just followed the laws like normal citizens,” Dominic grumbles.
I glance up at him. “You always did think you were above this life since you became Mr. FBI agent.”
“Because I was.” He leans back, his fingers tapping rhythmically on the armrest. “Or I tried to be. Doesn’t mean it didn’t follow me as you already know. And it doesn’t mean it wasn’t hard leaving certain people.”
My stomach tightens as I try to focus on the screen.
“You know you didn’t have to go into the FBI,” I murmur. “You could’ve stayed. We could’ve built all this together.”
Dominic’s jaw tightens. “Don’t do that, Cipi.”
“What does it matter anyway?” My voice rises slightly. “You made your decision and didn’t care what I thought. You walked away the moment I took the reins. Like it disgusted you to be with someone like me.”
“You become someone else,” he mutters.
“I became who I needed to be to survive this hellhole my father gifted me with. And what did you become? A ruthless agent who put many people behind bars, but saved those when it was convenient for you?”
Dominic doesn’t respond. He lowers his head and looks down at his hands. I wonder if he regrets it. I wonder if our last encounter still haunts him like it does me.
The doorbell rings and we both freeze.
“Fuck,” I mutter. My pulse quickens. Who could that be? Everyone in the compound is out and no one is scheduled to come by.
Dominic jumps to his feet.
I lunge for my phone. “Hang on.” I swipe open the security app and access the front camera. I stand and walk to the foyer.
A cardboard box is on the mat.
I sigh with relief. “The mailman must have dropped a package for me. But I don’t remember ordering anything. And why doesn’t the footage show him dropping it off?” I move to the door when Dominic grabs my arm.
“No. I’ll get the box. It could be a trap. Someone might try to shoot you.” He pushes me back into the living room then walks out into the foyer.
I hear him open the door quickly then shut it.
He reappears and places the box on the coffee table. “It’s addressed to you, but there’s no return address.”
Typical.
I grab a pair of scissors from the drawer and slice through the tape.
“Be careful.” Dominic stands close to me.
Wedging my fingers under the cardboard lip, I pull up until the tape cracks. A sharp, foul stench curls into my nostrils. Ew that stinks!
Peering inside, I feel my blood run cold. A gasp escapes my lips.
“What the fuck!”
Dominic grabs me and holds me close as he glances into the box.
Inside the box is filled with black tissue paper. A snake is curled up in the center. The reptile is about two feet long and light gray. There is a pit between its closed eyes and nostrils. Dark bow-tie-shaped splotches travel down its decaying body ending at a rattle shaped tail.
“What the fuck is that?” I wrap my arms around his waist, falling back into old habits.
Dominic glances into the box again. “I recognize that pattern. It’s an Eastern Massasauga Rattlesnake.”
“I don’t even want to know how you know that.”
“It’s okay Cipi, the snake is dead.” Dominic doesn’t remove his arms from around me, and I don’t unlock mine from his waist.
I peer into the box. “Its tail is wrapped around something.”
Dominic follows my gaze. “Yeah. It looks like it. Do you have gloves?”
“In the kitchen.”
He releases me, much to my dismay, and heads to the kitchen. He returns with a pair of gloves on his hands. Grimacing, he reaches into the box, and wrenches the object out of the snake’s tail.
When he places it on the table, I see it’s another chess piece.
A golden rosewood chess piece.
The piece from my dad’s set.
Only this time it’s a rook.
My blood runs cold. “That’s another piece from Father’s chess game.”
“That’s not the only thing in the box.” Dominic reaches in again and pulls out a raven feather.
“A chess piece and a raven feather were in the first package too. Lucia said she was told it was from Marconi.”
A serious look crosses Dominic’s face. “That’s impossible, the Marconi Family was wiped out in ‘95.”
“That’s what I said. But they were known for leaving a raven feather on the bodies of the people they killed.”
“How poetic,” Dominic muses. “Real Edgar Allen Poe of them.” He takes off the gloves and drops them in the trash. Then he closes the lid of the package. “I’ll take this box to my team and we’ll dust it for fingerprints, though I doubt there'll be any. And I’ll get rid of the snake.”
“Thank you.” I rub my temples trying to get the image of the reptile out of my mind.
Dominic chuckles, “Snakes were always your biggest fear.”
“Still are,” I mutter. “But not many people know that.”
Dominic’s eyes meet mine. “It could be why they sent it. That’s another piece of evidence proving that it’s someone close to you. Someone who knows your deepest fears.”
Before I can reply, the chime on my phone goes off, indicating someone is at my front door. Before I can see who it is I hear a loud bang and Lucia comes storming into the living room.
Her eyes are wide and panic is etched across her face. “Cipi!” She freezes when she sees Dominic standing next to me.
“What the hell?” she gasps. “What the fuck is he doing here?”
“Lucia, I told you about this at the hospital.”
“Yes, but I didn’t think this traitor would be in your house!” Lucia shouts.
“Nice to see you too, Lucia, it’s been a long time,” Dominic drawls.
Lucia scowls at him, then latches onto my arm. “We have to go.” Tears form in her eyes and she stammers. “Bruno’s been shot!”
Time stands still and I’m hoping I misheard her. “What?”
“Someone shot Bruno. They found him at the warehouse,” Lucia repeats.
“Our warehouse?”
“Yes.”
“Is he…”
“He’s alive. Barely. They got him to the hospital. But Cipi it’s bad. He’s in surgery.” She begins to sob. “We need to go. Now. He might not make it.”