Mystery and Crime Fiction posted March 9, 2025 Chapters:  ...49 50 -51- 52... 


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Nathaniel Meets the Girls
A chapter in the book Veil of Secrets

Veil of Secrets - Chap 51

by Begin Again


Frank and Jack returned to the hospital to coordinate their teams' positions during the planned raids. The two men agreed it was only fair to inform Donatelli what was happening, especially since his daughter was still in Zhang's hands.

The tension in Donatelli's hospital room was electric. The beeping of the machines grated on Jenna's nerves as she sat rigidly beside Matthew's bed, clutching his hand like a lifeline.

Knowing that Matthew understood the big picture, Frank and Jack hadn't expected his blowback when they laid out the plans.

Matthew fought back his anger. His voice was weak, but his eyes burned with fire as he struggled against the restraints of his weakened body. These men — his friends — were jeopardizing his daughter's life to shut down Zhang. "Have you lost your damn minds? If you do this, Maggie's as good as dead. Zhang won't think twice before killing her. She means nothing to him."

Frank was the first to answer, his voice even but firm. "I think you're wrong. Maggie is his only bargaining chip. She's the only thing keeping him from losing control when everything else collapses. Without her, he'll know we won't stop until he's dead."

Jenna trembled, her tear-stained eyes darting between Frank and Jack.
"There must be another way." Her breath hitched, her chest rising and falling in panicked gulps. "You're risking my baby's life."

Jack's voice was tight as he spoke. "None of us were prepared for how deeply Zhang had burrowed into this community. We didn't see it coming — not this far or deep. We never expected him to find you, Matthew. Nor did we think he'd penetrate the hospital." His jaw clenched. "The man has moles everywhere. He's an octopus with poisoned tentacles wrapped around every part of Bayside."

Frank raised a hand, his voice weary. "I understand how gut-wrenching this is for both of you. But don't you think we've been searching for another solution? If you have one, please tell us. Otherwise, without this plan, we allow Zhang to escape and we still won't have Maggie."

Frank's phone vibrated sharply in his hand. He glanced at the screen, mumbling, "It's Garth."

Donatelli snatched it out of his grasp with surprising speed, his grip white-knuckled. "Listen, Cowboy," his voice was raw, "this isn't one of those times where you ride in and the cavalry follows with guns blazing. This is my daughter's life."

Everyone in the room fell still.

"I get it, Garth. I see the big picture. I know all of it — Zhang's empire, the corruption, and the lives at stake." His breath was sharp, unsteady. "But you'd better hear me, and you'd better understand me. I don't give a damn about any of that right now."

He gritted his teeth, forcing down the pain in his ribs, forcing past the helplessness clawing at him. "You bring Maggie back to us. Alive." His voice dropped to something dark, something dangerously real. "Because friend or not, if you fail — if my little girl doesn't come home — you'll have me to answer to."

There was a long silence before Garth spoke, "I hear you, Donatelli. I've never failed you, and I won't start now."

Donatelli clenched his jaw, his chest rising and falling with restrained fury before he shoved the phone toward Frank. But before Frank could take it, Rebecca stepped forward, her fingers wrapping around the device instead.
She clutched it tightly, stepping away, her back to the others. Her voice was raw. "Garth."

A pause —then Garth's voice, gentler, answered, "I'm here."

Rebecca stammered, fighting to remain calm. "You can't —" She swallowed hard. "You can't make promises you can't keep."

Garth inhaled and said, "Rebecca, it's going to be okay. I promise. I will come back, and I'll have Maggie with me."

A sharp, broken breath escaped her lips. Rebecca's voice was barely audible. "I can't lose you."

Another pause. This time, it lasted just a little too long. Garth, sounding more positive than he truly felt, replied, "You won't."

Her fingers gripped the phone so tightly that her knuckles turned white. She shut her eyes, willing herself to believe him. But she knew — he was walking into something he might not walk out of.

She hesitated, her heart hammering. Then, in a whisper so quiet it barely reached the receiver, "I — I love you. I just wanted you to know that."

Garth inhaled sharply. He could feel her anguish, could picture her standing there, breaking apart. His stomach tightened. His voice was raw, quiet, but sure. "I love you, too."

She closed her eyes for a brief second, willing herself to believe him. Then, tremblingly, she passed the phone back to Frank and stepped away, blinking hard.

Jack ran a hand over his face. "You know how much that little girl means to me — to all of us." His voice was thick, weighted with emotion. "We're going to do everything humanly possible to bring her home." He hesitated, swallowing the knot in his throat, then squared his shoulders. "Come on, Frank. We've got work to do."

Frank gave a grim nod. The storm was coming.

And none of them knew who would survive it.

*****
Rosalie hesitated, her hand hovering over the Uber car door. The way she scanned the street before stepping out and moving toward the building told Eleanor she was not just cautious but truly afraid — not of what was inside — but of who might be watching.

Eleanor followed, slipping into the lobby undetected.

Rosalie moved quickly, pressing the elevator button with impatient fingers. She stepped inside when the doors slid open, exhaling sharply as the steel doors sealed her inside. The tension in her shoulders didn't fade. She didn't feel safe here. Eleanor wondered why.

The elevator opened directly into the penthouse. Rosalie entered swiftly before exhaling a slow breath. She tossed her clutch onto the marble counter, rolling her shoulders as she kicked off her heels.

The space was grand — floor-to-ceiling windows, leather furnishings, curated art along the walls — but Rosalie barely noticed. She needed to clear her head. Eleanor recognized several of the paintings, including one of her own she'd sold through the local gallery. Whoever lived here was a fine art connoisseur and had a healthy budget.

Rosalie padded into the en-suite bathroom, turned on the faucet, and let the steam rise as she undid the pins from her hair, letting it tumble around her shoulders. The hot water of a shower would do the trick.

The second the water hit her skin, she let out a slow, measured breath. It had been days since she allowed herself this moment of solitude. It had been days since she felt even a sliver of control.

Wrapped in a plush towel, Rosalie emerged from the bathroom, running a hand through her damp hair as she entered the dimly lit bedroom. She barely made it three steps before she froze, her heart skipping a beat at the sight of the unexpected intruder.

A man stood just inside the doorway, arms crossed, his presence as effortless as it was unsettling. He looked like he belonged there. Tall and refined, he wore an expensive tailored suit. His tie loosened just enough to suggest he had only just arrived himself. And his dark eyes were unreadable.
Rosalie's pulse quickened. She didn't recognize him. Someone had followed her — but which corner did he stand in? Zhang or Garland? Her thoughts leaned toward Garland; after all, he'd sent the roses, so he knew where she was.

Her grip tightened around the edge of the towel, but she didn't move or flinch. Instead, she lifted her chin, forcing herself to remain poised. "Did Garland send you?" Her voice was smooth, betraying none of her nerves.

The man's brow lifted as if she had just said something absurd. "Garland?" His tone held no recognition, no flicker of understanding.

Rosalie's stomach tightened. "You don't have to play cool. I know he knows I am here. Do you work for Judge Alex Garland?"

He rolled his eyes and stepped closer to Rosalie. A glance at the bathroom door told her she was too far away to run. He recognized her momentary thoughts of fleeing and stopped his approach. Instead, his voice dripped with disdain. "I'm afraid I've never had the pleasure of making Judge Garland's acquaintance."

Rosalie muttered, "Consider yourself fortunate." Her mind raced; if he didn't work for Garland, then Zhang? She doubted it — because if that were true, she'd be dead. That made this worse. "Who are you?" she asked.

The man exhaled slowly, his gaze flicking to the unpacked suitcase. Then, back to her. "I should be asking you that." His voice was calm, but there was steel beneath it.

Rosalie kept her posture relaxed, but her mind whirled like a digital computer, deciphering the clues, except she had none.

"It's not often I return to my home to find a naked woman." Nathaniel's sharp gaze swept over her, taking in the damp strands of hair falling over her shoulders, the barely secured towel, the way she hadn't expected company.
"You're in my home," he continued. "And unless I suffered a head injury recently, I don't recall inviting you."

Her stomach dropped. His home — that meant he was Nathaniel Devereaux. It was his penthouse. Her face turned red as she struggled to formulate a logical explanation.

"Let's try this again," he said, stepping further into the room. "Who are you, and why are you here?"

Rosalie kept her expression unreadable. "I was told this place was empty."

His brow lifted. "Clearly, you were misinformed."

She exhaled sharply, bracing herself. "Look, I can explain—"

"Can you?" His tone wasn't amused anymore. He reached into his pocket, pulling out his phone. "No more games," he said, unlocking the screen. "Either you start talking, or I let security handle it."

Panic coiled in her stomach. If he called security, Garland would hear about it. Zhang would hear about it. She had seconds to figure out her next move.

Then — another voice cut through the air. "I wouldn't do that if I were you, Nathaniel."

Nathaniel's hand gripped his phone. His head snapped up, and Rosalie saw something shift in his expression for the first time — a crack in his composure — something like disbelief.

Rosalie turned sharply toward the voice, her breath catching.

Eleanor stood near the grand piano, dressed in a black skirt suit with silver embroidery, her silver-gray hair pinned neatly into a bun. The woman she'd seen with Danni at the restaurant, but why was she here? And the bigger question at the moment was how?

Nathaniel's face drained of color. His lips parted, but no words came. Finally, his previous bravado dissipated, and he whispered, "CJ Gray?" The name barely escaped his lips.

Rosalie's brows pulled together. CJ Gray? Bayside's deceased resident — known worldwide for her paintings.

Eleanor's lips curved slightly. "Yes, by trade, I was CJ Gray, but actually, I am Eleanor Bennett."

Nathaniel shook his head as if trying to clear it. "No," he muttered. "That's impossible."

Rosalie's stomach tightened. She looked between them, confusion growing. "Wait — you know her?"

Nathaniel slowly stepped forward but still couldn't take his eyes off Eleanor. His voice was different now — stunned, unsteady. "I know her, but she's dead."

Eleanor smirked, raising a perfectly arched brow. "Yes, I can't deny that fact. And yet," she said lightly, "here I am."

Rosalie swallowed hard. "What the hell is going on? What do you mean — she's dead? I just saw her have lunch with a detective only an hour or so ago. She's an imposter. She has to be."

Nathaniel turned toward Rosalie, his dark eyes sharp again, though something flickered beneath the surface. "If she's an imposter, I demand to know what scheme you have going with this woman. How did either of you get into my home, and why?"

Rosalie's eyes widened. "I used the door key, but I have nothing to do with —" She hesitated, still unable to wrap her head around what was happening. "CJ or Eleanor or whatever her name is has nothing to do with me."

Nathaniel took a menacing step toward Rosalie. "I'm done asking nicely. One of you better tell me what's going on."

Eleanor took a step forward, placing herself between them. "I think," she said smoothly, "we all need to have a conversation."

"Then, you better start talking fast, or I'll call security. They can figure this out because I don't believe in ghosts."

Eleanor chuckled and disappeared. Rosalie gasped and raced into the bathroom, locking the door. And the ever-cool Nathaniel slumped into a chair, mumbling, "Tell me it's something to do with jet lag because ghosts aren't real."

Eleanor materialized — this time with a drink in her hand. She handed it to Nathaniel and smiled, "Here! I think you need this."

Nathaniel didn't move. His dark eyes remained locked on Eleanor, and his face still drained of color. His fingers twitched slightly, as if debating whether he'd finally lost his mind.

Then, slowly, deliberately, he took the glass from her outstretched hand.
His grip was steady — almost. Only the faintest tremor betrayed him.
He swallowed hard, lifted the drink, and downed it in one go. Then, exhaling sharply, he muttered, "I might need another if I'm expected to talk to — a ghost."

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Spirits from the past -
Eleanor Bennett - ghost detective
Danni - jr. ghost detective working with Matthew Donatelli

Current Characters -Bayside's Community --
Jenna Bennett - Event planner, Eleanor's daughter, Maggie's mother, Donatelli's love
Matthew Donatelli - Bayside's lead detective and Maggie's father
Garth Woodman - FBI Agent and widower (Allie) and interested in Rebecca
Rebecca Cascio Stillwell - recently inherited the Vineyard after discovering her adoption
Joseph DeLuca - Bayside detective
John Doyle - Ex-judge, nemesis to all, and deceased
Vince Rossi - mobster and Doyle's cellmate and now witness protection
Judge Alex Garland - the man trying to step into John Doyles corrupt shoes
Rosalie Jarvis - a lawyer currently on Zhang's payroll
Nathaniel Devereaux - International Art Dealer
Criminals -
Zhang Wei - once involved in human trafficking with Doyle, seeks revenge for his career losses after Doyle's downfall from the Judge's bench.
Frank DiVito - retired gangster and childhood friend of Garth
Sam - Frankie's right-hand man and friend
Jack Lexington - Chicago kingpin
Danny Veraci -a dear friend from the past and casino owner
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