Chapter 7 – THE ROSARY

The tactical SWAT vans tore through the streets of Chicago, sirens blaring. I sat in the back of the lead armored vehicle with Frank, my hands gripping my knees so tightly my fingers were numb.

“They’ll breach the front and side doors simultaneously,” DA Vance yelled over the noise of the engine. “You stay in the truck, Mrs. Moretti, until the building is secure.”

“If David hurts her…” I started.

“He won’t have time,” Vance promised.

The vans slammed on their brakes, screeching to a halt outside the massive stone steps of Holy Name Cathedral.

The heavy metal doors of the trucks flew open, and two dozen heavily armed federal agents poured out, sprinting up the steps with battering rams.

I didn’t stay in the truck.

I ran after them, Frank right behind me, yelling my name.

The agents smashed the ornate wooden doors of the cathedral open. The sound echoed like thunder through the massive, vaulted sanctuary.

“FBI! DROP YOUR WEAPONS!”

I pushed past the agents in the vestibule and ran down the center aisle.

The church was terrifyingly quiet.

There were no flowers. No guests.

At the altar, David was holding Anna by the arm. She was wearing a simple white dress, weeping silently.

When the doors burst open, David didn’t draw a weapon. He simply smiled and raised his hands in surrender.

Dozens of laser sights painted his chest.

“Let her go!” an agent screamed.

David casually released Anna’s arm. She immediately collapsed to the floor, sobbing.

I ran down the aisle, threw myself to the marble floor, and wrapped my arms tightly around my daughter.

“I’ve got you,” I cried, kissing her hair. “I’m here, sweetheart. I’ve got you.”

Agents swarmed David, throwing him against the altar and slapping handcuffs on his wrists.

“Where is Antonio?” Vance demanded, walking up the aisle with his gun drawn.

David laughed as they read him his rights. “He’s not here.”

I froze. I looked at the front pew where Caterina said Antonio was holding the baby.

It was empty.

There was no baby. There was no Antonio.

And there was no Caterina.

“Where is my grandson?!” I screamed at David.

David looked at me, a cruel, mocking smile on his face.

“You’re too late, Evelyn. My father took the child to the airstrip twenty minutes ago. They’re leaving the country.”

My heart plummeted into my stomach.

I looked around frantically. And then I saw it.

Resting on the wooden bench of the front pew was a string of black wooden rosary beads.

I recognized them instantly. They didn’t belong to Antonio.

They belonged to Vincent.

I stood up, trembling, and picked up the rosary.

“Vincent was here,” I whispered.

David chuckled as the agents dragged him away. “Good old Vince. Always eager to please the boss. He traded the kid for his own life, Evelyn.”

Vincent had given our grandchild to Antonio.

“Frank,” I gasped, turning to my brother. “The airstrip. We have to get to the private airstrip.”

Vance was already shouting orders into his radio. “Lock down Midway! Lock down O’Hare! Find Antonio’s private jets!”

As we ran back down the aisle toward the exit, my phone vibrated in my pocket.

I pulled it out.

It was a text message. From Vincent.

I’m sorry, Evie. I love you.

I stared at the screen. It sounded like a suicide note.

“Frank!” I yelled. “Call Vincent’s phone! Track it!”

An FBI tech sitting in the command van plugged the number into his laptop. Fingers flew across the keyboard.

“I’ve got a ping,” the tech said. “It’s moving fast. Heading south on I-55.”

“Is it going toward an airport?” Vance asked.

The tech frowned. “No, sir. It’s heading toward the old shipping yards. The waterfront.”

“The properties Vincent controls,” Frank realized. “He didn’t give the baby to Antonio. He’s taking the baby himself.”

I climbed into the passenger seat of Frank’s sedan.

“Drive,” I told him.

Frank slammed the gas pedal, and we tore away from the cathedral, heading toward the freezing waters of the Chicago riverfront, racing to stop a man who had already destroyed everything he touched.

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