Chapter 5 - THE BROTHER WHO CAME BACK FROM THE DEAD
"MICHAEL!"
Dante shouted his brother's name into the silent phone.
Nothing.
Elena tried calling again.
Straight to voicemail.
Emily stood beside the desk, still shaken by the thought that Lily's medical records had been manipulated.
Across the room, Gloria clutched the back of a chair.
Dante looked at Marco.
"Give me your phone."
Marco handed it over.
Dante removed the device's protective case.
Beneath the backing was a small electronic module that didn't belong there.
Marco stared.
"What is that?"
"Something connected to your security communications."
He held it toward Elena.
She examined the tiny circuit board.
"Michael was right. Someone has been tracking calls made through your system."
Marco's expression darkened.
"I didn't put that there."
Dante believed him.
Marco had protected his family through threats, shootings, and the years after Michael disappeared.
But Dante had trusted other people just as completely.
And tonight, that trust had nearly cost Lily her life.
"Nobody uses company communications anymore," he ordered. "Marco, get a clean phone and arrange security for this building through people you personally trust."
"Boss, I should come with you."
"No. Lily and Emily need protection."
Emily shook her head.
"I'm not staying behind."
Dante turned.
"Your daughter needs you."
"And she's safe with a nurse right now. Your brother may be bleeding somewhere."
She held his gaze.
"I'm a rehabilitation caregiver. I know basic emergency procedures. If he's injured, I can help."
Dante didn't like it.
But he knew Emily was right.
Elena took a folded map from a locked drawer.
"Michael has been living near Point Judith under another name. He moves frequently, but he's been using a fishing cottage for the past month."
Dante looked at her.
"Why didn't you tell me sooner?"
Elena swallowed.
"Because he made me promise."
"Why?"
"Because he believed you were involved."
The words hurt more than Dante expected.
"My own brother thought I betrayed him?"
Elena opened a file on her desk.
Inside was a copy of a financial authorization dated September 30, 2019.
Dante Valenti.
His signature appeared beneath approval for a massive restructuring of the Valenti Family Foundation.
"That's my signature," Dante admitted.
Emily looked at him.
"Did you know what you were approving?"
"I thought I was consolidating the foundation's rehabilitation facilities. Dad wanted to build a legitimate medical network."
He studied the document.
"Kessler prepared the paperwork."
Elena nodded.
"The legitimate authorization was used to support later transfers into shell companies. Michael saw the money leaving the foundation and thought you had approved all of it."
Dante closed his eyes.
"I told Michael to stop investigating. I thought he was trying to embarrass me."
Elena touched his arm.
"He wanted you to listen."
Dante stepped away.
"I know that now."
An hour later, Dante and Emily reached the fishing cottage.
The ocean was dark beyond the dunes.
A weather-beaten porch stretched along the front of the building.
The door stood open.
Dante entered first.
A lamp burned beside an overturned chair.
Blood stained the floorboards.
"Michael?"
No answer.
Emily noticed a trail of blood leading toward a narrow hallway.
She followed it.
A man sat against the wall in the back bedroom, one hand pressed against his side.
He wore a gray sweater.
His dark hair had grown longer.
A thin scar ran from his jaw toward his neck.
But the eyes were unmistakable.
Michael Valenti.
Dante stopped in the doorway.
For seven years, he had imagined finding his brother.
Sometimes alive.
Sometimes dead.
He had rehearsed what he would say.
Now he couldn't speak.
Michael looked up.
A weak smile touched his face.
"Hey, big brother."
Dante crossed the room.
He dropped to his knees and pulled Michael into his arms.
Michael cried out from the pain in his side.
Dante immediately released him.
"Sorry. God, I'm sorry."
Michael laughed weakly.
"Still don't know your own strength."
Tears ran down Dante's face.
He had not cried in front of another person since Michael's disappearance.
"I buried you."
"I know."
"I hated you for leaving."
Michael looked away.
"I know that too."
Emily knelt beside him.
"Let me see your injury."
A bullet had grazed Michael's lower ribs, leaving a deep wound.
Emily examined it carefully.
"We need to get you to a hospital."
"No hospitals," Michael said immediately.
"Michael, this could become serious."
He caught her wrist.
"You're Daniel's wife."
Emily froze.
He looked at her with an expression so full of grief that her own eyes filled.
"Daniel told me about you. And Lily."
Emily swallowed.
"He saved your life?"
Michael nodded.
"Twice."
She stared at him.
"What happened to my husband?"
Michael closed his eyes.
"Daniel found me after Kessler's men attacked me. He treated my wounds and helped Elena get me out of Newport."
"Then why was he killed?"
"Because he found records connecting the fake clinics to real patients. He wanted to give the evidence to federal investigators."
Emily could barely breathe.
"Did he succeed?"
"I don't know. He stopped contacting us a few weeks before his death."
Dante knelt beside his brother.
"Why didn't you call me?"
Michael looked at him.
"Because I saw your signature. Because Mom told me Kessler had proof you ordered the operation."
"I didn't."
"I know that now."
Dante stared.
"What changed?"
Michael pulled a folded sheet from his pocket.
"A copy of the original authorization. Elena found it last year."
He handed it to Dante.
"The document you signed approved legitimate rehabilitation services. Kessler added the shell-company transfers afterward."
Dante compared it with Elena's copy.
The first page had been replaced.
The final signature remained.
Someone had used Dante's legitimate approval to conceal an entirely different transaction.
"I should have looked closer," Dante whispered.
Michael nodded.
"You should have."
Neither brother spoke for a moment.
Then Michael said, "But I should have come to you before believing the worst."
Dante grasped his hand.
"We both made mistakes."
Michael looked at Emily.
"Daniel didn't."
Those three words broke something inside her.
For six years, she had blamed herself for not insisting Daniel stay home the night he died.
Now she knew he had been trying to protect strangers.
"He left me a locked box," she said.
Michael suddenly became alert.
"What kind of box?"
"Wooden. About the size of a shoebox."
"Did it have a brass plate?"
Emily nodded.
Michael grabbed Dante's arm.
"That's it."
"What's it?"
"The last evidence Daniel collected. He told me he'd hidden it somewhere nobody could reach without Emily."
Emily frowned.
"But I don't have the key."
Michael looked toward Dante.
"Maybe you do."
Dante reached into his pocket.
The brass key engraved 23.
Michael shook his head.
"Not that one. Daniel said Frank had the spare key, but he wouldn't tell me where."
Emily remembered something.
"When Frank gave us the key and photograph, the canvas pouch had a torn lining."
Michael's eyes widened.
"Then Dad may have hidden it inside."
Dante studied him.
"Why would Dad have Daniel's key?"
Michael lowered his voice.
"Because Dad was working with Daniel to collect evidence."
Dante stared.
"Our father?"
Michael nodded.
"By the time he realized Kessler had stolen money, the foundation had already harmed dozens of families."
"Then why didn't Dad tell me?"
"Because he believed he could fix it quietly."
Emily thought of Frank's desperate attempts to communicate.
"He was still trying to fix it after his stroke."
Michael nodded.
"Three months ago, Dad contacted me. He said he'd finally found enough evidence to expose Kessler."
Dante felt cold.
"Three months ago?"
"Yes."
"That's when Dad had his stroke."
Michael looked at him.
"Exactly."
Emily's heart began pounding.
During Frank's rehabilitation, she'd noticed unusual periods of confusion and drowsiness.
His symptoms sometimes worsened after specific medication visits.
She had questioned the nurse.
Gloria had told her to stop interfering.
Now those memories took on a different meaning.
"We need to examine his medical records," she said.
Michael gripped her hand.
"Be careful. Whoever hurt Dad still has access to him."
Outside, gravel crunched.
Dante turned toward the window.
A man stood beside the parked SUV.
Black clothing.
A rifle.
On his jacket was the insignia of Valenti Security.
"Get down!" Dante shouted.
A shot shattered the window.
Emily threw herself over Michael as glass fell across the bed.
Dante returned fire from behind the doorway.
The attacker retreated toward the dunes.
By the time Dante reached the porch, the man had disappeared.
He hurried back inside.
Michael was struggling to stand.
"Don't move," Emily ordered.
Michael ignored her.
He grabbed Dante's sleeve.
"There's something I haven't told you."
"What?"
Michael looked terrified.
"That attacker knew this cottage because someone gave away my location."
Dante frowned.
"Marco's compromised phone?"
Michael shook his head.
"No. The security system wasn't the only thing they were tracking."
He swallowed painfully.
"Dad has been carrying a tracking device since his stroke."
Emily stared at him.
"Where?"
Michael looked toward the bloodstained family photograph hanging above the bed.
"In his wheelchair."
May you like
Then his voice dropped.
"And if Kessler knows we discovered it, Dad is already in danger."
