Chapter 3 - THE SECRET BEHIND THE ALTARSt. Catherine’s had been closed for renovations for nearly four months.
At midnight, it looked abandoned.
Scaffolding surrounded the bell tower. Plastic sheeting covered several stained-glass windows, fluttering softly in the wind.
Gabriel parked behind the parish building.
Victor examined the street.
“Something feels wrong.”
“Everything feels wrong to you.”
“That’s why I’m still alive.”
Helena sat in the back seat wearing jeans, sneakers, and one of Evelyn’s oversized sweaters.
She looked completely different from the woman Gabriel had found inside the warehouse.
But when headlights moved along the far end of the block, she flinched.
Gabriel noticed.
“You can stay here.”
“No.”
“Helena.”
“I spent six months being told where I was allowed to go.”
Her voice remained soft.
“I’m not staying in another locked car.”
Gabriel opened the door.
“Then stay close.”
They entered through a side entrance.
Helena knew the alarm code.
The church smelled of old wood and candle wax.
Moonlight filtered through covered windows.
Her footsteps slowed as they approached the altar.
“My grandmother loved this place.”
Gabriel watched her.
“She raised you?”
“More than my parents did.”
“What was her name?”
“Rose Mercer.”
Gabriel stopped.
Helena looked back.
“You knew her?”
“I knew of her.”
Rose Mercer had funded legal clinics, domestic violence shelters, hospitals, and scholarship programs across Illinois.
Unlike her son Charles, she rarely gave interviews.
Gabriel remembered something else.
She had once publicly accused several city contractors of stealing public funds.
Then she died unexpectedly.
Stroke, according to newspapers.
“How old were you when she died?”
“Twenty.”
Helena reached a bronze memorial plaque mounted beside the altar.
Rose Elizabeth Mercer.
Beloved Mother. Beloved Grandmother. Servant of Chicago.
Helena ran her fingers beneath the lower edge.
A concealed latch clicked.
The plaque shifted forward.
Behind it was a small combination safe.
Victor raised an eyebrow.
“Your grandmother was interesting.”
“She trusted institutions less than people realized.”
Helena entered six numbers.
Nothing happened.
Her face fell.
“Maybe Damian changed it.”
“Would he know?”
“No.”
She tried again.
The safe clicked.
Helena exhaled.
Inside sat three flash drives, a paper ledger, several sealed envelopes, and a small digital recorder.
Gabriel looked at her.
“You put all this here?”
“The flash drives.”
“What about the rest?”
Helena stared.
“No.”
She reached for one envelope.
Her name was written across the front.
HELENA.
The handwriting belonged to her grandmother.
Helena’s hands began shaking.
“She died nine years ago.”
Gabriel stepped closer.
Helena opened the envelope.
Inside was a letter.
She read the first line.
Then stopped breathing.
“What?”
Gabriel asked.
Helena handed him the page.
Gabriel read.
If you are reading this, Charles has finally become the man I feared he would become.
Gabriel continued.
Rose described discovering a secret arrangement involving Mercer Infrastructure executives, city officials, and organized criminal groups that inflated public contracts and redirected money through false consulting companies.
She believed her son Charles had become involved.
But there was another name.
Damian Cross.
Helena stared at the letter.
“Damian hadn’t even met me yet.”
Gabriel looked at the date.
Ten years earlier.
“Apparently he knew your family.”
Helena kept reading.
Her face changed.
“No.”
“What?”
She passed the second page to Gabriel.
Rose believed Damian had deliberately entered Helena’s social circle to gain influence over the Mercer trust.
Their marriage had not been an accident.
It had been an acquisition strategy.
Everything Helena believed about the last eight years collapsed in a handful of paragraphs.
The charity gala where she met Damian.
The accidental spilled champagne.
His charming apology.
Their first date.
Their wedding.
Her father walking her down the aisle.
All of it suddenly looked different.
“He never loved me.”
Gabriel didn’t answer.
There was no useful lie.
Helena sat on the nearest pew.
“I was a contract.”
“You don’t know that.”
She looked up.
“Don’t insult me.”
Gabriel nodded.
“Fair.”
Victor suddenly raised one finger.
Quiet.
Gabriel heard it too.
A sound near the rear entrance.
Metal scraping.
Someone was inside.
Victor whispered into his radio.
No response.
His face hardened.
“Signal jammer.”
Gabriel immediately killed the church lights.
Darkness swallowed the nave.
Helena’s breathing quickened.
Gabriel took her wrist.
“Stay behind me.”
Footsteps entered through the side hall.
Then another set from the rear.
They were surrounded.
A voice echoed through the church.
“Helena.”
She froze.
Damian.
He stepped into a streak of moonlight near the center aisle.
Perfectly tailored coat.
Perfect hair.
Calm smile.
No one looking at him would imagine what Helena’s body looked like beneath her clothes.
“My love,” he said.
Helena moved closer to Gabriel.
Damian noticed.
His smile faded slightly.
“I’ve been worried.”
“Stay away from me.”
“You aren’t well.”
“I said stay away.”
Damian sighed.
Then looked at Gabriel.
“She’s very persuasive when she’s frightened.”
Gabriel said nothing.
“You have no idea what you’ve inserted yourself into.”
“I’m learning.”
Damian’s eyes dropped toward the safe.
“You found Rose’s little insurance policy.”
Helena stared at him.
“So it’s true.”
“Parts.”
“You knew me before we met.”
Damian’s silence answered.
Helena’s eyes filled.
“Our marriage?”
Damian shrugged.
“It became useful.”
Something inside Helena seemed to disappear.
Not break.
Disappear.
Gabriel stepped forward.
“You should leave.”
Damian laughed.
“You think your reputation frightens me?”
“No.”
Gabriel’s voice was calm.
“I think the twelve federal agents outside might.”
Damian’s smile disappeared.
Helena looked sharply at Gabriel.
Victor almost smiled.
Gabriel had called a contact before leaving the townhouse.
He had no intention of walking into a potential homicide investigation carrying stolen corporate evidence without insurance.
Damian glanced toward the windows.
For the first time, uncertainty entered his face.
Then he smiled again.
“You’re bluffing.”
A voice came from the church entrance.
“He isn’t.”
Flashlights flooded the sanctuary.
“Federal Bureau of Investigation! Nobody move!”
Damian turned.
Agents entered from both sides.
But Detective Pike was faster.
A gun appeared in his hand from the shadows above the balcony.
Victor saw it.
“Gabriel!”
The shot shattered the silence.
Helena screamed.
Gabriel pushed her down.
The bullet struck the wooden pew inches from his shoulder.
Agents shouted.
Pike fired again.
Then disappeared through an upper doorway.
Damian tried to run.
He made three steps before an agent drove him against a column and cuffed him.
Helena remained on the floor.
Gabriel crouched beside her.
“You hit?”
She shook her head.
Her entire body trembled.
Gabriel looked at Damian.
For the first time, the polished public figure no longer appeared untouchable.
But Damian wasn’t frightened.
He was smiling.
Helena saw it.
“Why are you smiling?”
Damian leaned against the column.
“Because you still think this is about money.”
Helena stared at him.
“What is it about?”
Damian’s smile widened.
“Ask your father why your grandmother really died.”
And across the city, Senator Charles Mercer received a phone call informing him that the church safe had been opened.
He calmly walked into his study.
May you like
Opened a hidden drawer.
And removed a passport.
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