Chapter 6 - THE WOMAN IN WHITECelia Voss did not run from the city.
She went on television.
At nine o’clock that morning, while federal agents searched government offices and police stations, Celia stood behind a courthouse podium and blamed Dominic for everything.
“Today,” she announced, “our city suffered an unprecedented attack by organized crime.”
Her white suit was spotless.
Her voice was calm.
Behind her stood officers who had not yet been arrested.
She claimed Dominic had kidnapped a child, attacked police officers, destroyed public property, and fabricated evidence against respected officials.
Then she displayed my school photograph.
I stared at the television inside Dominic’s safe house.
“Why is she showing everyone where I go to school?”
“She is creating pressure,” Sofia said.
Dominic stood near the window with his injured arm in a sling.
“She wants the public to believe Leora is my prisoner.”
Celia continued speaking.
“The child’s mother, Mara Hale, has been rescued from Moretti custody and is currently receiving protection.”
My mother appeared on-screen.
She sat in a wheelchair.
A blanket covered her legs.
Her face was pale, and an officer stood behind her.
Celia placed a microphone in front of her.
“Ms. Hale, did Dominic Moretti threaten you?”
My mother looked into the camera.
For several seconds, she said nothing.
Then she answered.
“Yes.”
My heart cracked.
Sofia whispered, “She’s being forced.”
Celia asked, “Did he abduct your daughter?”
My mother’s eyes shifted slightly to the left.
“No,” she said.
Celia’s smile tightened.
“What did you say?”
“I said he threatened me.”
“Did he abduct Leora?”
My mother looked directly into the camera.
“Under the tower, under the stone.”
The broadcast abruptly cut to commercial.
I stood.
“She gave us a message.”
Dominic nodded.
“The old broadcast tower.”
Sofia pulled up a city map.
The Ashford Communications Tower had been abandoned for twelve years. It stood on a hill beyond the northern industrial district.
“Too obvious,” she said.
“That is why Celia chose it,” Dominic replied. “She expects us to know it is a trap.”
“Then we don’t go.”
“We have no choice.”
I looked at him.
“We do have a choice.”
He shook his head.
“I am not leaving your mother with her.”
“That’s not what I mean.”
I pointed toward the television.
“Celia wants everyone to think you took me. So we show everyone the truth.”
Sofia understood first.
“A live broadcast.”
Dominic frowned.
“We cannot expose Leora.”
“I’m already exposed.”
“You are a child.”
“And nobody listened when I spoke quietly.”
The room became silent.
I continued.
“I asked the police for help. They smiled. I told the school counselor. She said adults drove slowly in school zones. I told my mother, and she tried, but she was alone.”
I looked at Dominic.
“Celia keeps winning because everyone is afraid to say what they saw.”
Sofia said, “A public statement from Leora would destroy the kidnapping narrative.”
“It would also make her a larger target,” Dominic replied.
“I am already their target.”
He walked toward me.
“Your father died trying to expose these people.”
“My father died because he tried to do it alone.”
The words hurt him.
But they were true.
Dominic looked away.
Sofia began contacting reporters.
Within an hour, every news network in the city waited outside St. Agnes Church.
Dominic did not appear beside me.
He believed the public would dismiss my words if the feared mafia boss stood nearby.
Father Benedict stood behind the podium instead.
Sofia remained close.
I faced more cameras than I had ever seen.
My knees shook.
Then I remembered the gray sedan whispering my name.
I remembered adults telling me I was imagining things.
I stepped toward the microphone.
“My name is Leora.”
Camera shutters clicked.
“I am seven years old. A gray car followed me home from school for eight days. I told adults, but nobody believed me.”
The crowd grew quiet.
“The man driving the car was paid by people connected to the police. My mother was taken because she had evidence about them.”
A reporter shouted, “Is Dominic Moretti holding you?”
“No.”
“Are you afraid of him?”
I looked toward the church doorway where Dominic waited in the shadows.
“No.”
“Did he abduct the sedan driver?”
“He stopped the first adult who believed me from being murdered.”
Confused murmurs spread through the reporters.
I held up the file Sofia had found beneath the courthouse.
“This document calls me an asset. It has my school picture and my real name. It says police officers and prosecutors were watching me.”
Federal agents distributed copies.
Reporters began reading.
Questions erupted.
I raised my voice.
“Celia Voss has my mother.”
Silence returned.
“She is forcing her to lie on television.”
I looked into the cameras.
“Mrs. Voss, my mother gave me a message. I know where you are.”
Sofia whispered, “Leora—”
I continued.
“And I am coming.”
The broadcast ended.
Dominic stepped from the church doorway.
“You are not coming.”
“Yes, I am.”
“No.”
“She will not show my mother unless she sees me.”
“She wants the ledger.”
“She thinks I know where the rest is.”
“She may kill you.”
“She may kill my mother if I’m not there.”
Dominic closed his eyes.
Father Benedict placed one hand on his shoulder.
“You cannot protect her by turning her into a prisoner.”
Dominic looked down at me.
“What would you have me do?”
“Walk me there.”
The same words I had spoken outside his restaurant.
His face changed.
This time, he knew exactly what they meant.
Not that I was helpless.
That I trusted him enough to stand beside me.
He held out his hand.
“All the way,” he said.
We arrived at the abandoned broadcast tower before sunset.
Federal agents surrounded the hill, but Celia had rigged the main building with explosives. Any attempt to enter without her permission would trigger them.
Dominic and I walked alone toward the tower.
He wore no visible weapon.
My hand remained inside his.
A speaker crackled above us.
“Very touching,” Celia’s voice said.
The steel entrance opened.
Inside, my mother sat beneath the tower’s central antenna.
A black vest was strapped around her chest.
Red numbers counted down from forty-five minutes.
Celia stood behind her with a gun.
Deputy Commissioner Rourke stood near the control panel.
I had thought he might help us after Celia ordered his death.
But fear had brought him back to her.
Dominic stopped.
“Release Mara.”
Celia smiled.
“The memory card.”
“It is with federal investigators.”
“Then give me the location of the original ledger.”
“They have that too.”
Her smile faded.
“You are lying.”
I stepped forward.
“My father recorded everything.”
Celia aimed the gun at me.
Dominic moved in front of me.
“Do that again,” he said softly, “and no building in this city will be large enough to hide you.”
Celia laughed.
“You still think fear belongs to you.”
Rourke watched her uneasily.
Dominic noticed.
“She ordered your death at the courthouse,” he said.
Rourke said nothing.
“She will blame you for the Council,” Dominic continued. “Celia will walk into court as the prosecutor who exposed corrupt police officers.”
Celia turned toward Rourke.
“Do not listen.”
Dominic smiled.
“You already know I am right.”
Rourke looked at the bomb vest around my mother.
Then at the control panel.
“The detonator has a dead-man switch,” he said.
Celia’s face changed.
“Henry.”
“If her hand releases the trigger, the vest explodes.”
“Be quiet.”
“The tower charges are controlled separately.”
Dominic asked, “Can you disable them?”
Rourke swallowed.
“Yes.”
Celia shot him.
The bullet struck his chest.
He fell against the control panel.
My mother screamed.
The timer dropped from forty-one minutes to five.
Celia stared at the numbers.
“What did you do?”
Rourke laughed weakly.
“You should have paid my daughter’s bills yourself.”
Celia ran toward the exit.
Dominic tackled her.
The gun skidded across the floor.
I ran to my mother.
“Don’t touch the vest,” she warned.
Rourke crawled toward the control panel.
“Blue wire,” he gasped.
“Which blue wire?” I asked.
“There are four.”
My mother looked at the vest.
Three bells are silent.
One bell will ring.
“The fourth,” I said.
Rourke nodded.
Dominic and Celia fought near the steel stairs.
She struck his wounded shoulder.
He collapsed.
Celia grabbed the gun.
I pulled the fourth blue wire.
The timer stopped at eight seconds.
My mother sobbed with relief.
Celia aimed at me.
A shot thundered.
She fell.
Sofia stood in the entrance holding a weapon.
Federal agents rushed inside.
Dominic got to his feet and crossed the room.
He freed my mother from the chair.
I wrapped my arms around her.
She held me so tightly that I could barely breathe.
Behind us, agents handcuffed Celia.
She looked at Dominic.
“You think this ends with me?”
“No,” he answered.
He looked toward the cameras mounted inside the tower.
“It begins with you.”
Every word Celia had spoken had been broadcast live.
Her confession.
Rourke’s statement.
The bomb.
The attempt to kill me.
Millions of people had watched.
For the first time, the Black Council could not hide behind procedure.
As Celia was dragged away, she looked at me.
“You have no idea what your family is.”
I held my mother’s hand with one hand and Dominic’s with the other.
May you like
“Yes,” I said.
“I do.”
