Chapter 2 - The Man Behind the Door
Adrian entered without hesitation.
Sofia stood against the kitchen wall with Emma clutched against her chest.
A man was beside the window.
He wore a maintenance jacket.
His right hand was inside his pocket.
“Take your hand out,” Adrian said.
The stranger smiled.
“Careful.”
Adrian moved closer.
“Now.”
The man's hand emerged.
Empty.
“I came to fix the radiator.”
“At midnight?”
“He told me it was an emergency.”
“Who?”
The smile vanished.
“Caldwell.”
Sofia whispered, “My landlord.”
Adrian studied the man.
His boots were clean.
No toolbox.
No equipment.
Not a maintenance worker.
The stranger suddenly lunged toward the window.
Adrian caught him.
They hit the table.
Sofia pulled Emma into the hallway.
The man drove an elbow into Adrian's ribs and reached for something beneath his jacket.
Adrian slammed him against the wall.
A knife fell.
The stranger twisted free and escaped through the fire escape.
Adrian followed as far as the window.
By the time he reached it, the man was already dropping to the alley.
A car waited below.
It disappeared around the corner.
Adrian returned to the kitchen.
Sofia stared at him.
“Why are you here?”
He had no convincing answer.
“I saw Emma walking home.”
Sofia's expression changed.
“You followed my daughter?”
“She was alone.”
“I know.”
“You know?”
Sofia lowered her eyes.
“She wasn't supposed to leave.”
Emma spoke quietly.
“Mrs. Bellini needed food.”
Sofia looked at her daughter.
“You walked five blocks alone?”
Emma nodded.
“To give Mrs. Bellini bread?”
Another nod.
Sofia crouched and hugged her.
Fear overwhelmed anger.
Adrian looked away.
Claire used to run away too.
Once she had disappeared from the estate for twenty minutes because she wanted to rescue a bird.
He remembered Elena screaming his name across the garden.
He remembered finding Claire under a hedge.
He remembered being furious.
He remembered hugging her so tightly she complained she couldn't breathe.
The memory nearly crushed him.
“Pack a bag,” Adrian said.
Sofia looked up.
“What?”
“You're not staying here.”
“This is my home.”
“Somebody just entered it with a knife.”
“You don't control where we live.”
“No.”
Adrian looked toward Emma.
“But somebody knows you're connected to me.”
Sofia went pale.
“What does that mean?”
Adrian wished he knew.
Twenty minutes later Marcus arrived.
He examined the knife.
“No markings.”
“Professional?”
“Maybe.”
Marcus looked at Sofia.
“Mrs. Romano, has anyone threatened you?”
“My landlord.”
“Besides him?”
“No.”
“Your husband?”
Sofia stiffened.
“My husband is dead.”
“I know. Before he died, did he have enemies?”
“Daniel?”
She almost laughed.
“He fixed transmissions. His biggest enemy was a carburetor.”
Marcus glanced at Adrian.
“Did he ever mention a black Cadillac?”
Sofia stopped breathing.
Adrian saw it.
She knew something.
“Sofia.”
Her face changed.
“Where did you hear that?”
“Your husband contacted police about one.”
Sofia backed away.
“No.”
“What did he tell you?”
“Nothing.”
“Sofia.”
“I said nothing.”
Emma looked between them.
Adrian softened his voice.
“We're trying to understand what happened to Daniel.”
“You don't get to say his name.”
The words struck him.
Sofia's eyes burned.
“My husband died because people like you decided ordinary families were acceptable damage.”
Adrian said nothing.
“You live behind gates. You have guards. Cars. Money. People who would die for you.”
Her voice cracked.
“Daniel had me.”
She pointed toward Emma.
“And her.”
Adrian absorbed every word.
“You're right.”
Sofia seemed unprepared for that response.
He continued.
“But someone came here tonight. That means whatever Daniel knew didn't die with him.”
Marcus interrupted.
“We should move.”
Sofia refused the Moretti estate at first.
Then Emma asked whether Daisy could come.
That ended the argument.
By two in the morning, Sofia and Emma were sleeping in rooms near the kitchen wing.
Adrian remained in his office with Marcus.
The knife lay between them.
Marcus opened a folder.
“Daniel called Detective Raymond Walsh two days before the bombing.”
“What did he say?”
“That a Cadillac had been brought into his garage for electrical work. Daniel found modifications underneath.”
“A bomb?”
“He didn't know. Wiring. Remote receiver. Compartment beneath the passenger seat.”
“Who brought it?”
Marcus hesitated.
“That part of Walsh's report disappeared.”
Adrian looked up.
“Reports don't disappear.”
“This one did.”
“Who had access?”
“Police. Federal investigators.”
“And our people.”
Marcus nodded.
Adrian understood.
Someone inside the Moretti organization might have buried Daniel's warning.
“Walsh still alive?”
“Yes.”
“Where?”
“Safe house.”
“We go now.”
Marcus did not move.
“There is something else.”
He slid a photograph across the desk.
Daniel Romano stood beside a black Cadillac.
Behind him was another man.
The face was partially turned away.
But Adrian recognized the coat.
He recognized the posture.
He recognized the ring.
A Moretti family ring.
Only senior members wore one.
Adrian's eyes rose.
“Who gave you this?”
“Walsh.”
“Who is the man?”
“He wouldn't say until he spoke directly to you.”
Adrian stood.
Upstairs, a floorboard creaked.
He looked toward the doorway.
Emma stood there holding Daisy.
“I couldn't sleep.”
Adrian's expression softened.
“Bad dream?”
She nodded.
“Mommy's sleeping.”
He walked toward her.
“Want me to take you back?”
Emma looked at the photograph on his desk.
Then she pointed.
“That's Daddy.”
Adrian crouched.
“Yes.”
Emma pointed again.
Not at Daniel.
At the other man.
“I know him.”
Adrian went still.
Marcus stepped closer.
“Emma, where have you seen him?”
The toddler looked frightened.
“He came to our apartment.”
“When?”
“Before Daddy went to heaven.”
Adrian's pulse slowed.
“What did he say?”
Emma hugged Daisy.
“I don't remember.”
“Try.”
Her small forehead tightened.
Then her eyes widened.
“He gave Daddy something.”
“What?”
Emma pointed toward Daisy.
Adrian looked at the doll.
Sofia had said it belonged to Daniel.
Emma held it tightly.
“Daddy put it inside Daisy.”
Adrian carefully took the doll.
He examined the repaired seams.
One seam along the back was newer.
Marcus produced a pocketknife.
He cut one thread.
Then another.
Something metallic dropped onto Adrian's desk.
A tiny key.
Stamped into the metal were two numbers.
Marcus stared at Adrian.
“File forty-seven.”
Before Adrian could answer, someone knocked on the office door.
Three slow knocks.
Charles Bennett entered.
His face was white.
“Mr. Moretti.”
“What?”
Charles looked at Emma.
Then at the key.
“You need to come upstairs.”
“Why?”
Charles swallowed.
“Claire's bedroom door is open.”
Adrian froze.
“No one has a key.”
“I know.”
They climbed the stairs.
At the end of the corridor, the door that had remained locked for three years stood several inches open.
Light spilled from inside.
Adrian approached.
He pushed it wider.
Claire's pink sweater remained over the chair.
Her book remained beside the bed.
Her yellow boots remained beneath the window.
But something new rested on her pillow.
A black envelope.
Adrian walked toward it.
His name was written across the front.
May you like
He reached for the envelope.
Behind him, Emma whispered, “That handwriting belongs to the man in Daddy's picture.”
