Chapter 23 - Bells Under the Floor
The church was called Saint Jude’s, though the sign had lost two letters and now read Sain Ju e in rusted gold.
Belle stood inside its ruined nave the next afternoon with Micah beside her and every nerve screaming that bringing him there was a mistake.
But this time, the place was secured.
Ortiz had agents at every entrance. Renick’s men guarded the perimeter under federal supervision, which meant everyone looked equally unhappy. Renick himself had left the hospital against medical advice and now stood near the altar with one arm in a sling and the expression of a man who dared anyone to comment.
Belle commented.
“You look terrible.”
He glanced at her. “Thank you.”
“That wasn’t concern.”
“It sounded adjacent.”
“It was criticism.”
“I’ll take what I can get.”
She looked away before he could see her almost smile.
Micah walked slowly down the aisle, looking up at the rafters. Dust floated through beams of weak afternoon light. Broken pews leaned like tired bones. At the front, an old bell rope hung beside a locked sacristy door.
“Birds go home by sound,” Micah whispered.
Brinley had stayed at the hospital with Aisling. She had cried when Micah left, but Aisling told her brave did not always mean following. Sometimes brave meant waiting.
Belle wished she believed that herself.
Micah stopped under the bell rope.
“My grandma lifted me,” he said.
Belle’s heart twisted.
“Here?”
He nodded. “I pulled the rope. Bells were loud.”
Renick looked up. “The tower?”
Ortiz sent two agents upstairs.
They found nothing.
Micah frowned harder. “Not up. Down.”
Belle crouched. “What do you mean?”
“When the bells rang, the floor hummed.”
Renick looked at the old stone floor.
Eli tapped near the altar with the heel of his boot.
Solid.
Then Micah walked to a pew near the side wall. “Grandma sat here after. She cried.”
Belle swallowed.
Her mother had cried in this place and still gone home to make dinner, still asked Belle about homework, still kissed Micah’s curls and pretended the world was smaller than it was.
Micah knelt and touched a brass plaque on the pew.
In Memory of Thomas Bell, Beloved Father.
Belle laughed softly in disbelief.
“Bell.”
Renick crouched beside the plaque.
The screws were not old.
Eli removed them.
Behind the plaque was a keyhole.
Ortiz looked at Micah. “Young man, you may have just embarrassed six federal agents.”
Micah shrugged. “Grown-ups look too high.”
Renick’s eyes met Belle’s.
Something warm and painful passed between them.
The key from the shoe strap did not fit.
The brass key from Aisling’s envelope did.
When Renick turned it, a section of floor beneath the pew clicked open.
Inside was a waterproof metal case.
Ortiz photographed everything before touching it. Chain of custody. Evidence markers. Gloves. Procedure.
Belle stood back with Micah while history emerged inch by inch.
Inside the case was a ledger wrapped in yellow cloth.
Not her mother’s scarf.
A piece of it.
Belle covered her mouth.
Ortiz opened the ledger.
Names filled the pages.
Hundreds.
Dates. Ages. Placement locations. Payment codes. Initials beside each.
Renick turned away and braced one hand against the wall.
Belle did not comfort him.
Not because she didn’t want to.
Because some guilt needed to stand before it could be carried.
Ortiz’s face went pale as she turned pages.
“This reaches judges,” she said. “Doctors. Donors. Police.”
Renick’s voice was rough. “My name?”
Ortiz scanned.
Belle held her breath.
After a moment, Ortiz looked up.
“No.”
Renick closed his eyes.
“But your father’s is here,” Ortiz said.
Renick nodded once, as if accepting a sentence he had expected.
Belle asked, “Cormac?”
Ortiz’s expression hardened. “Everywhere.”
Micah tugged Belle’s sleeve.
“What happens to the kids?”
No one answered fast enough.
So Belle did.
“We find them,” she said. “The ones we can.”
Micah nodded as if that was obvious.
Renick looked at her.
“That takes money,” he said.
Belle’s eyes narrowed. “Do not turn this into charity.”
“No,” he said. “Restitution.”
That word settled differently.
Belle looked at the ledger. At the names. At the yellow cloth. At Micah, who had followed a sparrow and pulled a thread that unraveled an empire.
“Restitution,” she said. “And prison.”
Ortiz closed the ledger.
May you like
“Lots of prison.”
For the first time in two days, Belle smiled.
