Chapter 3 - THE NAME ON THE FINANCIAL STATEMENT
Roman was halfway through a conference call when his private receptionist announced a visitor.
“Who?”
“Nora Gallagher.”
He ended the call.
“Send her in.”
Nora entered wearing jeans, a dark sweater, and the same worn coat she'd worn outside Bellaforte.
Without the waitress uniform, she looked younger.
And more exhausted.
Roman stood.
“Miss Gallagher.”
“I need to ask you something.”
He gestured toward a chair.
She remained standing.
“Are you doing business with Daniel Mercer?”
Roman's expression changed.
“Why?”
“Answer me.”
Marco shifted near the door.
Roman raised a hand.
“Yes.”
Nora swallowed.
“Don't give him the money.”
Roman watched her.
“That's a serious accusation.”
“I know.”
“Can you support it?”
She looked toward Marco.
Roman understood.
“Marco, give us a moment.”
The bodyguard hesitated, then left.
Nora took a breath.
“My name wasn't always Nora Gallagher.”
Roman said nothing.
“Three years ago, I worked for a financial firm in New York.”
“Which firm?”
“Halden & Pierce.”
Roman's eyes sharpened.
He knew the name.
The firm had collapsed after a major fraud investigation.
Nora continued.
“I found irregular transfers involving companies that were supposed to be unrelated.”
Roman listened.
“I reported them to Daniel Mercer.”
“And?”
“Two days later, someone tried to kill me.”
Silence settled over the office.
Roman looked at her carefully.
“Are you saying Mercer ordered it?”
“I'm saying he knew what I found.”
She placed a folded newspaper clipping on his desk.
Roman read the headline.
Then looked at the photograph.
“Eleanor Grace.”
Nora nodded.
“That was me.”
For the first time since they'd met, Roman seemed genuinely surprised.
“You were declared dead.”
“Yes.”
He looked at her.
“And you've been hiding?”
“For three years.”
Roman slowly sat.
Nora continued.
“Last night, someone sent me a photograph of the diagram I drew at your table.”
Roman's expression hardened.
“Show me.”
She handed him the phone.
He read the messages.
Then looked toward the door.
“Who had access to those papers?”
“That's what I want to know.”
Roman thought for a moment.
“Mercer. My attorneys. Two financial advisers. My uncle's office.”
Nora stared.
“Your uncle?”
Roman nodded.
“Salvatore Castiglione.”
Her face went pale.
Roman noticed.
“What?”
Nora whispered:
“Salvatore was one of the names in the old records.”
Roman stood.
“Are you certain?”
She nodded.
“I never forgot it.”
Roman walked toward the windows.
He had spent fifteen years building his business empire.
Some operations were legitimate.
Others were remnants of the criminal organization his father had left behind.
He had been trying to separate the two.
The twelve-million-dollar transaction was supposed to finance a legitimate redevelopment project.
But now the money appeared to be moving through companies connected to an old fraud network.
And his uncle might be involved.
Roman turned.
“Miss Gallagher.”
She looked up.
“I won't authorize the transfer.”
Nora exhaled.
“Thank you.”
“But I need evidence.”
She nodded.
“I know.”
He studied her.
“Will you help me find it?”
Nora hesitated.
Then asked the question she'd been carrying for three years.
“If we find it, will you help me find Sophie Lane?”
Roman looked at her.
“Who's Sophie?”
“My best friend.”
Her voice broke.
“The woman who disappeared because she believed me.”
Roman's expression softened.
He nodded.
May you like
“We'll try.”
For the first time in years, Nora felt something dangerously close to hope.
