Chapter 2 - The Woman Who Died Twice
Vincent reached beneath his jacket.
Anna pulled Lily behind her.
Dominic stepped between them and the opening door.
“Identify yourself.”
A frightened housekeeper appeared.
“Mr. Moretti?”
Dominic lowered his weapon.
Vincent didn’t.
“What?”
“Ethan is asking for you.”
Vincent glanced at Anna.
“Take Lily upstairs with Rosa.”
Anna immediately shook her head.
“No.”
“You’re staying here.”
“I’m not letting my daughter out of my sight.”
Vincent understood that kind of fear.
“Then both of you go upstairs. Dominic’s men stay outside Ethan’s room.”
Anna hesitated.
“Why Ethan’s room?”
“Because someone just tried to put something in his birthday cake.”
That ended the argument.
After they left, Dominic shut the study door.
Vincent stared again at the photograph.
Elena.
Alive eleven months after her funeral.
He had buried an empty lie.
“What was in the vial?” he asked.
“Lab is checking.”
“Find the caterer.”
“We’re running his face.”
Vincent placed Elena’s photograph on the desk.
Dominic stared.
“What is that?”
“My dead wife.”
Dominic looked closer.
“When?”
“Almost a year after we buried her.”
Dominic said nothing.
That frightened Vincent.
Dominic Russo had been with him for fifteen years.
He had been at the hospital the night Elena died.
He had carried Vincent out of the chapel when grief had made him unable to stand.
“You knew something.”
Dominic’s jaw tightened.
“Vincent—”
“You knew.”
“I knew there were questions.”
“What questions?”
“Elena’s death certificate was signed before I arrived.”
Vincent stared.
“You never told me.”
“You had a newborn son. Your wife was dead. Your father had just suffered a stroke.”
“My father.”
The words felt wrong.
Salvatore Moretti had controlled the family before Vincent.
He had died six years earlier.
Or so Vincent believed.
Suddenly death itself seemed negotiable.
“Who signed the certificate?”
“Dr. Gabriel Vale.”
Vincent looked toward the watch.
E.M.V.
Vale.
He picked it up.
“What was Gabriel Vale to Elena?”
“I don’t know.”
“Find out.”
Dominic left.
Vincent went upstairs.
Ethan and Lily sat on the floor building something with wooden blocks.
Children were strange that way.
Twenty minutes earlier, Lily had destroyed Ethan’s birthday cake.
Now they were constructing a castle together.
Anna sat nearby.
When Vincent entered, she stood.
“We talk now.”
She looked toward the children.
“Not here.”
Vincent led her into an adjoining sitting room.
“Who is Gabriel Vale?”
Anna froze.
There it was again.
Recognition.
“Tell me.”
“He was Elena’s doctor.”
“That’s not all.”
“No.”
“What was he?”
Anna walked toward the window.
“Her brother.”
Vincent stared.
“Elena had no brother.”
“She had one she never spoke about.”
“Why?”
“Because Gabriel wasn’t a good man.”
Anna turned.
“Elena came to me because she wanted to disappear.”
“When?”
“Before Ethan was born.”
Vincent felt betrayed by a woman dead eight years.
“She wanted to leave me?”
“No. She wanted to save you.”
“From what?”
“Your father.”
Vincent laughed once.
There was no humor in it.
“My father loved Elena.”
“Your father controlled Elena.”
Anna’s voice strengthened.
“She discovered he was using Moretti charities to move money through children’s medical foundations. Gabriel helped him. Elena found records. Names. Payments. Families threatened into silence.”
Vincent stared at her.
“Why didn’t she tell me?”
“She tried.”
“No.”
“She didn’t know who around you she could trust.”
That hurt because it was possible.
Eight years earlier, Vincent had inherited an empire filled with men loyal first to his father.
Anna continued.
“Elena contacted me because my older sister worked at St. Matthew’s Hospital. We helped arrange a safe location.”
“And the funeral?”
“Elena nearly died giving birth.”
Vincent’s hands curled.
“But she didn’t.”
“No.”
“Whose body did I bury?”
“I don’t know.”
He turned away.
He remembered touching Elena’s closed coffin.
His father had insisted Vincent not see her body.
Too much trauma, Salvatore had said.
Vincent had believed him.
“What happened afterward?”
“Elena disappeared.”
“You have a photograph.”
“She contacted me eleven months later.”
“Where?”
“A church shelter outside Albany.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“She begged me not to.”
“My wife was alive.”
“She believed your father would kill Ethan if she returned.”
Vincent turned sharply.
“You expect me to believe my father would kill his grandson?”
Anna’s eyes moved toward the room where Ethan sat.
“Someone poisoned his cake tonight.”
Silence.
Vincent looked away.
“Why did Elena have a baby in the photograph?”
Anna’s face changed again.
“I don’t know.”
“You’re lying.”
“She never told me.”
“Who is the child?”
“I don’t know.”
“Is that Lily?”
“No. Lily wasn’t born yet.”
That answer seemed truthful.
Vincent studied the picture.
Elena looked exhausted but happy.
The infant’s face was partly hidden beneath a blanket.
“When did you last see Elena?”
“That day.”
“Eight years ago?”
“Yes.”
“Then why did you keep the photograph?”
“Because she told me someday you might need proof.”
Vincent’s phone rang.
Dominic.
“We identified the man from the cake.”
“Name.”
“Gabriel Vale.”
Vincent closed his eyes.
Elena’s brother.
“Where is he?”
“That’s the problem.”
“What problem?”
“Gabriel Vale officially died eight years ago.”
Vincent looked at Anna.
“Same night?”
“Yes.”
Of course.
Dominic continued.
“The substance on the cake wasn’t poison.”
Vincent frowned.
“What was it?”
“A bitter compound. Harmless in that quantity.”
“Then why put it there?”
“To make someone stop Ethan from eating it.”
Vincent understood.
“Lily.”
“Looks that way.”
The cake had been bait.
Not for Ethan.
For the child.
Someone wanted Lily to act.
Someone wanted Vincent to notice her.
He returned to the bedroom.
Lily was drawing now.
Ethan sat beside her.
“What are you drawing?” Vincent asked.
“A house.”
There were four people outside it.
One was Anna.
One was Lily.
A third was a woman in a blue dress.
The fourth was a boy.
Vincent pointed.
“Who is she?”
“Lady Lena.”
Anna dropped the glass she was holding.
Vincent looked at her.
“You said Lily only knew Elena from a photograph.”
Anna stared at her daughter.
“I thought she did.”
Vincent crouched.
“Lily, have you seen Lady Lena?”
The little girl nodded.
“Where?”
“At Grandma’s house.”
Anna whispered, “My mother died before Lily was born.”
Lily shook her head.
“Not your grandma.”
She pointed at Vincent.
“His grandma.”
Vincent’s blood chilled.
His mother, Maria Moretti, had supposedly died twenty years ago.
“Where is this house?”
Lily frowned.
“Trees.”
“What else?”
“Red door.”
“Can you remember anything else?”
The girl thought.
Then she drew something beside the house.
A clock tower.
Dominic entered carrying a folder.
He saw the drawing and stopped.
Vincent noticed.
“What?”
Dominic pointed at the tower.
“I know that place.”
“Where?”
“Your family had a summer property near Lake George.”
Vincent remembered.
He hadn’t visited since childhood.
His mother had loved it.
After her death, Salvatore ordered the property sealed.
Vincent grabbed his coat.
Anna stood.
“You’re going there?”
“Yes.”
“I’m coming.”
“No.”
“Lily saw Elena there.”
Vincent looked at the child.
Then at Ethan.
Someone had orchestrated tonight.
Someone wanted him moving.
He couldn’t tell whether Lake George was an answer or a trap.
“Dominic, double the guards.”
“Done.”
Vincent left after midnight.
The drive took nearly three hours.
At 3:17 a.m., headlights swept across an old iron gate.
Beyond it stood the Moretti summer house.
Dark windows.
Overgrown trees.
And a red front door.
Vincent stepped from the vehicle.
Dominic approached the entrance first.
“The lock is new.”
Vincent looked toward an upstairs window.
A light turned on.
Someone was inside.
Then the red door opened.
A woman stepped into the doorway.
Vincent stopped breathing.
May you like
She had Elena’s face.
And she whispered his name.
