Code of Silence

by Heather Woodhaven

  “Try your birthday,” he suggested. “She’d have picked a combination you’d know.”

  She stared at him for a moment before she shook her head in disbelief. “Okay.”

  Her wrist whipped through the combination. She slipped her hand to the handle and exhaled. Click. A radiant smile crossed her face before it morphed into sober concern. “If it’s not here, I won’t know where else to look.”

  “You’re not alone,” he said.

  She pulled the seal. Inside were a few guns, but most of the twenty-four slots were empty. Instead, a thick beige canvas bag sat propped up on its side...except the zipper had a key sticking out of it.

  “It’s a deposit bag,” Luke said.

  Gabriella’s shaking hand reached and turned it and began to unzip.

  Her entire arm trembled when she opened it.

  Stacks of documents and small cassette tapes filled the bag. On top, though, sat a single white envelope with Gabriella’s name in black marker. She placed a hand on her chest. Her face paled, but she didn’t make a move to pick the bag up.

  If reading her mother’s diary proved to be almost impossible, Luke imagined a direct letter to her would prove that much more difficult. “Shall I?” he asked.

  She nodded.

  He pulled out the stationery lined in flowers from the envelope and began to read aloud:

  “Dear Gabriella,

  “If you are reading this I’m truly sorry, honey. It most likely means I’ve failed, left you in a horrible mess and owe you an explanation. I can only hope it will lead to your forgiveness.”

  “Yeah, she did,” Gabriella muttered. She wrapped her arms around herself, said nothing, but nodded for him to continue.

  “I’ve been Samantha Radcliffe for so long it’s as if Renata Mirabella doesn’t exist anymore. At least I wished she didn’t. Enough regrets.

  “Here’s what you need to know:

  “I was born into the Mirabella crime family. My mother never married my father—in fact she refused him, not wanting to be a part of that life. Shortly after I was born, they put a hit on her. My father claimed ownership over me, but your great-aunt raised me. I have no memories of my mother or my grandmother on her side, but your aunt Freddie told me she came from a good family. I wish I—we—had a chance to get to know them, but I’m so thankful that they willed this property to me and that no one knew about it...except your aunt.”

  Luke processed the words. So her mother likely owned the property legally. What a relief. Gabriella peered over his shoulder, reading along. “She never met her mother? My grandfather killed her? What kind of person does such a thing?” Gabriella leaned back, shaking her head, but gestured at the letter. Luke kept reading.

  “I grew up having to work for my father and uncle. I hope you never meet Uncle Claudio. He’s a cruel man, as most all the men in the Mirabella family. My own father did something the family didn’t like, and they killed him for it, without hesitation.

  “A year before you were born, I was assigned to a man—an honest man from the Treasury Department. My job was to get information from him to help the family get a score of coins from the nineteen hundreds at the US Mint. Only, I fell in love. When I found out about you, it became clear that no one would benefit from the situation.”

  Gabriella placed a hand on her mouth and squeezed her eyes shut.

  “Had you known about your father?”

  “She—Mom said he didn’t know about me and said it’d be better if it stayed that way. She always prefaced it by telling me to be careful about the company I kept. I assumed she meant my father lived as a druggie or something, not an honest man. I mean, obviously he wasn’t perfect, but I always wondered about him... It’s part of the reason I kept sneaking into her diary when I was little to look for clues.” She eyed the letter. “Is there more?”

  He nodded.

  “Aunt Freddie was my only confidante. She told me about a mob girlfriend from history—Virginia Hill. She kept a little black diary, where she recorded the money laundering flow. She put it in a safe-deposit box and told the family that upon her death it would be sent to the FBI. In response, they sent her money and left her alone.

  “Inspired, I took evidence I’d gathered about who killed my father and copies of all the bookkeeping I’d done for the family. I left a note similar to what I imagine Virginia had left. Your aunt gladly came with me.

  “Only, I studied my history after we got here, Gabriella. Virginia’s little black book never helped her. Instead it made her a target to the FBI herself. And she ended up dead from an overdose of sleeping pills after the FBI refused to make a deal for the book...a suicide that reeks of a mafia hit to me.

  “So instead, the evidence rests here, while we stay hidden underneath our secret identities, waiting until the right time when I’m sure we can be safe. I didn’t want to raise you in witness protection—I had a cousin die on her way to WITSEC—I couldn’t be sure they wouldn’t get us.”

  Gabriella set the bag on the countertop and began pulling out the documents and tapes as if they were priceless artifacts. “That’s why she didn’t use a safe-deposit box. My mom has always done the unexpected, thought outside the box.” She cringed. “Pun unintended. Go on.”

  “My hope is they’ll never find you. As far as I know, they don’t even have word of your existence. I pray it stays that way.

  “Please forgive me. This heavy burden on my heart grows daily. I am desperate to tell you but want it to be for the right reasons, not to just ease my own burden. I hope you understand now why I discouraged you from starting the nonprofit. I didn’t want to put you in an even worse position someday, tarnishing your reputation. But I soon realized that I couldn’t do that to you. I couldn’t stop your servant heart. It’s a blessing to me, and tangible proof that you were brought up outside of the Mirabella family, away from the suppressing darkness.”

  Luke could barely read the words. His throat burned, thankful and heartbroken for Gabriella at the same time.

  “I am so thankful for you, Gabriella.

  “Do what you will with the items in this safe. Choose wisely. Find someone trustworthy. Stay safe. I love you.

  “Yours Forever,

  “Mom

  “PS: I also took the score from the Treasury Department as added insurance. Only you know where it is. When the time is right, please return it with my apologies.”

  Gabriella looked up, raw with emotion. Luke still held the letter but opened his arms ever so slightly. She clung to him and buried her face against his chest, desperate to disappear, to lose herself, until the sand particles on his shirt scratched her cheek. The prickly sensation snapped her back to reality. Yes, her mother had to grow up in a life no one should be forced to endure. And, mercifully, Gabriella had been wrong about her mom’s view of her. She hadn’t disapproved of her servant heart, but quite the opposite. What must it have been like for Mom to watch her growing up? Did Mom wonder how she would’ve turned out growing up away from the mafia?

  Luke’s uninjured arm wrapped around her back. His hand awkwardly patted the back of her head. Her cheek bounced off his chest, and she reached her hands up and pushed herself back. “Thank you.”

  There was no time to grieve. She had to shut off her mind and act. Her mom had said to do what she would with the evidence, so she’d feel no guilt handing it over in exchange for her aunt.

  “Your mom risked everything to get this evidence. We can’t just hand it all over,” Luke said.

  “She never would’ve wanted my aunt’s life to be in danger, either,” she spat out. He didn’t respond.

  She dug her fingers underneath everything in the bag and pulled it out and set it in the middle of the countertop. She placed the microtapes and the player to the side. Inside a manila envelope, photographs stamped with dates were a
rranged by size, seemingly taken through a window of men congregating. Gabriella didn’t understand the significance, but surely someone else would. She set a ledger and a stack of financial documents to the side.

  Luke picked up a black ledger. “May I?”

  She nodded her assent and continued her task. Her legs twitched as adrenaline coursed through her veins. Every heartbeat reminded her of the clock ticking. Her mind wasn’t processing as fast as she’d like.

  The next stack was... Gabriella gasped at the stack of duplicate passports and birth certificates. She flipped open the first. Her mother, pictured in her early forties, stared back at her. Gabriella would likely look exactly like that in the future. When her mother had taken to calling her mini-me, Gabriella would quip back, “No, you’re my big-me.” Her mother’s boisterous laugh would always follow.

  The next one took her breath away. She opened the navy leather passport complete with a photograph of Gabriella in her teen years. Her mom must’ve prepared these in case they needed to go on the run. Otherwise, why wouldn’t she have showed her?

  As a teen, Gabriella would’ve loved knowing she had a passport and likely would’ve showed it off to her friends. Ah, maybe she’d just answered her own question.

  Underneath the passport were two birth certificates, one listed as Radcliffe but the other as...

  “Gabriella Mirabella?” She dropped it and turned to Luke. “My real name is Gabriella Mirabella?” Her voice rose, but she couldn’t control it. “Why couldn’t she have at least used my father’s name? Whatever that may have been. Surely it’d have been better than Gabriella Mirabella.”

  “Some people would like a rhyming name...if they wanted to have their name in a rap, or a greeting card?”

  “Really?” She put her hands on her hips. “Who? Who would want that, Luke? It’s not just a rhyming name, it’s a crime family name.” She threw up her hands. “I don’t even know who I am anymore,” she whispered.

  He set down the ledger and turned to her. “You know who you are. You are the girl who loves the Lord and loves others.”

  Luke placed his hands on either side of her shoulders but looked at the ceiling. “When Jesus washed the disciples’ feet, when he told them to love one another, he had just done something that the disciples would’ve never done for each other.”

  His gaze shifted to meet hers. “That’s how I think of you. You serve others in a way that very few would ever do. Because when you serve, you keep your eyes on Jesus.” He stepped closer. “If you can’t remember who you are, go to Him to remind you. He’s the only one that matters.”

  Her vision blurred. The words he’d said reached her to the core. Luke knew who she was. He knew her heart, and he knew exactly how to set her straight. She blinked rapidly so the tears wouldn’t escape. “You understand.” Her words came out hushed.

  He sighed. “I’ve been fighting with my own path lately. And even in the worst circumstances, spending time with you again reminded me that I was looking in all the wrong places. I should be thanking you, Gabriella.”

  The way he said her name... His gentle hands on her shoulders sent a spark down her arms. She shivered and took another step into the small space separating them. She lifted her arms and intertwined her fingers around the back of his neck. His eyes widened, but he said nothing. His blue eyes stared right into hers, questioning. She stared boldly back and lifted her chin.

  Her lips tingled as he pressed his mouth onto hers. His hands dropped to her waist and pulled her closer. Never before had she been kissed with such restrained passion. Her heart stopped for half a second. When he released her she gasped.

  He moved his grasp back to her shoulders, as if making sure she would remain steady. Luke looked to the ground. “I guess that’s what you meant.”

  “Wh-what?”

  “When you said I’d know if you kissed me.”

  She spun around to prevent him from seeing her embarrassment. Why’d she ever let herself say such a thing? She knew he was trying to lighten the tension, but she couldn’t think of a single witty comeback. “No one should ever be quoted when they’re running for their lives.”

  “Gabriella, I regret trying to rush our relationship in college. You have no idea how much. I’ve missed our friendship. I’ve missed you.” He exhaled. “And if it makes any difference,” he continued, “your mom knew who you really were, too.”

  His words both soothed and stung. “If I hadn’t left her diary in that safe room, maybe I’d have understood her more.”

  “I don’t think you would have. The letter did the best job of that.”

  She looked over her shoulder. “What makes you say that?”

  He glanced in every direction but hers. “Because I read the journal while you slept.”

  Her stomach turned to lava. “You did what?”

  Luke’s eyes widened. “I was trying to help. You couldn’t read it without—you know—you couldn’t even read the letter.”

  She clenched her fists. He’d read what was meant for her. Who knew what private, personal, secret things he knew about her from reading her mom’s diary? A letter was so different than a diary. What had her mother said?

  Luke reached for her, but she stepped back. “I’m sorry,” he said. “If you’re worried about anything embarrassing, there wasn’t. She spent a fair amount of time talking about her business, believe it or not. She did mention how proud she was of you. Over and over again. She also said something about what she’d done to the barn. I wasn’t positive until now, but I’m sure now she was preparing to tell you all about this.”

  Gabriella turned back to the papers. Her head spun with so many emotions she didn’t know what to do. She needed to pick and choose what to offer the mafia in exchange for her aunt, but how could she? Because as bold as she made herself sound, Gabriella knew she wouldn’t be able to give it all back to them. The risk and sacrifices her mother took to ensure her safety wasn’t lost on her.

  In her peripheral vision, Luke picked up the ledger and likewise went back to work. He turned a page and paused midturn. “She said you lived up to your name.”

  Gabriella stiffened. What did that mean? That she lived up to the Mirabella name or the Radcliffe name?

  “You know Gabriella means heroine of God, right? That’s what the journal said.”

  Her heart pounded so hard against her ribs it had to be audible to Luke. Heroine of God? Her mom had named her that? And thought she’d lived up to it? Her eyes burned with withheld emotion. She scoffed and shrugged. “Seems like I couldn’t be...”

  A creak above stilled them both, shocking the emotion to the farthest recesses of her heart. “Someone’s upstairs?”

  “You know how to shoot?” he whispered.

  She nodded. Her mother had made sure she knew how to operate a gun. But Gabriella’s targets had never been anything as fancy as the shooting range. Instead, as a teenager she’d shot tin cans in the pasture, after the fields of alfalfa had been harvested.

  “Good.” He picked up the box of ammo. “I might have a plan.”

  FOURTEEN

  Gabriella grabbed the letter from her mom and shoved it in her pocket as Luke lined up the guns on the countertop. Her lightning fingers loaded the guns, thanks to her mom’s training.

  “I still think you should be the one in hiding.”

  Another creak upstairs prompted her muscles to tense. “I’m not changing my mind. You’re of no use to him. He’d shoot first,” she hissed.

  He narrowed his eyes. Another creak. His eyes darted to the basement door. Rodrigo must be coming down to investigate. “Fine.” He grabbed a weapon and disappeared to his hiding place.

  She slipped the cold metal under her back waistband and flipped the back of the shirt over it as the door flung open. A surge of nausea washed over her. Could sh
e follow through with the hasty plan? Did she have enough guts to pull it off?

  She closed her eyes. Help me. Gabriella flung her hands in the air and flashed her eyes open. “Don’t shoot! I surrender.”

  Rodrigo stepped into the room. If he’d found the bathroom upstairs, he hadn’t stopped to wash his face. His face looked brown from the caked-on dust. The bushy eyebrows held the majority of the dirt, though, and must have served to protect his vision. The dust-plastered face didn’t hide a raised red ring the size of a cantaloupe in the center of his forehead. She recoiled. Had the fire extinguisher done that?

  Her right hand twitched, almost begging to reach for the gun. Without any weapons in her hand, she felt exposed, vulnerable.

  Rodrigo’s eyes darted around the room. “Where is he?”

  “You shot him.” It wasn’t a lie.

  He leveled his aim at her. “I should kill you now. Slowly. Starting with—”

  “I found the evidence you wanted,” she blurted. Avoidance and distraction were her only allies. The last thing Gabriella wanted to hear was the manner of death Rodrigo imagined for her. She jutted her chin in the direction of the gun cabinet.

  Rodrigo shifted. He lowered the gun slightly. “You found it? Good.” He stepped forward and without touching, perused the stacks laid out on the countertop.

  Gabriella held her breath. She needed him to let his guard down, to pick up the papers. “It’s all there,” she said.

  “Is there a map?”

  She frowned, taken off guard. “Uh...a what?”

  “I know about the coins.” He shoved his index finger on top of the tallest stack. “And I don’t see the coins. Where are they?” Rodrigo stiffened and leveled the gun until the aim fell back on her forehead.

  Gabriella shook her head. The plan had failed. “You never said anything about coins. Benito never said—”

  “I’ve told you before I don’t care what Benito said,” Rodrigo roared. “He doesn’t know about the score. Your uncle passed that on to me. Only to me. He wanted me in charge, not that weasel. I need both to get back my rightful place, and you’re going to get it for me.”