Chapter 7 - THE UNKNOWN PACKAGE
Marcus placed the manila envelope on the kitchen island.
Luca stopped pouring his coffee.
"What is it?"
"Delivered by courier five minutes ago," Marcus said.
"No postmark. Dropped at the outer security gate."
Luca picked it up, tearing open the heavy paper.
Inside was a single 8x10 glossy photograph.
My eyes drifted over Luca's shoulder.
The photo showed a dimly lit room.
A woman sitting in a wooden chair, bound and gagged.
My breath caught in my throat.
"My mother," I whispered in sheer horror.
Luca's eyes narrowed into slits of pure obsidian.
"Who is this?"
"That's my mother," tears spilled down my cheeks.
"She's supposed to be in a rehabilitation center in Evanston!"
Luca flipped the photograph over.
Written in bold, jagged black marker were words:
*THE CLEANUP HAS ONLY JUST BEGUN. TRADE THE GIRL FOR THE WIDOW.*
The kitchen went deathly cold.
Sophie whimpered, hiding behind Luca's leg.
"Daddy, what's wrong?"
"Nothing, baby," Luca lied smoothly, his voice steady.
He handed the photo to Marcus.
"Trace the paper stock. Check traffic cameras near Evanston."
"Already on it, boss," Marcus replied, grabbing his radio.
Luca turned his full attention back to me.
"Claire. Take Sophie to the East Parlor."
"No! I'm not hiding!" I wiped my tears away.
"That's my mother they have!"
"Listen to me," Luca gripped my shoulders.
"If you panic, we lose. I will get her back."
"You don't know who took her!"
"I know who's left," Luca said darkly.
"Arthur Vance has associates outside Chicago."
"And Vanessa still has friends in the syndicate."
"We find them before they make a second move."
Teresa gripped her cane, her knuckles white.
"They're striking at our weakest link," the old woman warned.
"They think Claire is our weak point."
Luca's expression hardened into stone.
"They're about to find out she's an armed vault."
He pulled his phone back out.
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"Marcus. Mobilize the regional teams."
"Tell them we're hunting ghosts today."
