Chapter 9 - The Night Emma Disappeared
Margaret survived surgery.
The bullet had passed beneath her collarbone without striking a major artery.
Emma sat beside her hospital bed until dawn.
Damian waited outside.
He did not enter.
He did not ask her to leave.
He simply stayed.
When Margaret woke, Emma asked the question.
“Where is Evelyn?”
Margaret looked toward the door.
“Damian is here?”
“Yes.”
“Then both of you need to hear this.”
Damian entered.
Margaret told them Evelyn had survived.
After Daniel’s murder, she entered federal protection.
But someone compromised the program.
So Evelyn disappeared without government help.
“Where?”
“I haven’t seen her in sixteen years.”
Emma felt disappointment.
“But you said she lives.”
“She contacted me last month.”
“Why?”
“To warn me Victor was moving again.”
“Where is she?”
“She wouldn’t say.”
Damian asked, “How did she contact you?”
“Letter.”
Margaret pointed toward her purse.
Emma found it.
No return address.
Only six words.
WHEN THE LEDGER OPENS, FIND ROSE.
Emma frowned.
“Rose?”
Damian knew.
“Rose Moretti.”
“Who?”
“My grandmother.”
“She’s alive?”
“Ninety-one.”
Rose lived in a convent outside Milwaukee.
By afternoon, Emma and Damian were driving north.
For the first time since the gala, they were alone.
No Mateo.
No guards.
Emma looked at him.
“You really meant what you told Ward?”
“Yes.”
“You could go to prison.”
“Yes.”
“You’re very calm about that.”
“I’ve spent my life knowing every choice eventually sends a bill.”
Emma looked out the window.
“What did you do?”
“Things I won’t romanticize.”
She appreciated the answer.
No excuses.
No claim that he was secretly innocent.
“Why help me?”
“At first?”
“Yes.”
“Because Victor wanted you.”
“And now?”
Damian was quiet.
“Now it’s because you’re Emma.”
She turned toward him.
He kept his eyes on the road.
Something changed between them.
Small.
Dangerous.
Real.
Rose Moretti received them in a private sitting room.
She looked at Damian for a long time.
“You have Anthony’s eyes.”
“So everyone says.”
“And his stubbornness.”
“Apparently.”
Rose looked at Emma.
Then began crying.
“Evelyn’s girl.”
Emma sat beside her.
“Where is she?”
Rose took her hand.
“She made me promise.”
“Please.”
Rose studied her.
Then nodded.
“Your mother lives under the name Eleanor Hart.”
E.H.
The initials in the photograph.
Emma felt her heart race.
“Where?”
Rose wrote an address.
A small town in Wisconsin.
Damian looked at it.
“We can be there in two hours.”
Rose caught his wrist.
“No.”
“Why?”
“Because Victor knew about me.”
Damian froze.
“How?”
“He came yesterday.”
Emma stood.
Victor had been arrested.
Unless—
“He wasn’t alone,” Rose said.
“Who?”
Rose looked frightened.
“His son.”
Damian’s face changed.
“Victor doesn’t have a son.”
Rose whispered, “Yes, he does.”
A noise sounded outside.
Damian moved toward the window.
A black SUV waited near the convent gate.
Emma’s phone rang.
Federal prosecutor Ward.
“Emma, Victor Moretti is in custody.”
“I know.”
“That’s not why I’m calling.”
Emma waited.
“We searched Mercer’s office.”
“And?”
“We found a file on you.”
“What kind?”
“Surveillance. Ten years.”
Emma felt cold.
“Who authorized it?”
“We don’t know. But there’s something else.”
Ward hesitated.
“Someone accessed your apartment twenty minutes ago.”
Emma’s stomach dropped.
“What did they take?”
“Nothing.”
“Then why enter?”
Ward’s answer came quietly.
“They left something.”
Emma and Damian returned to Chicago.
Agents met them at Emma’s apartment.
On her kitchen table sat a white box.
Inside was a childhood photograph.
Emma at six.
Margaret beside her.
Behind them stood a man Emma had never noticed before.
Paul Mercer.
On the back:
ASK PAUL WHO YOUR FATHER REALLY WAS.
Emma stared.
Damian took the photograph.
“This is manipulation.”
“Maybe.”
“You know Daniel was your father.”
“Do I?”
Damian looked at her.
Before he could answer, the apartment lights went out.
A window shattered.
Smoke filled the room.
Damian grabbed Emma.
But someone struck him from behind.
Emma screamed.
A cloth covered her mouth.
The last thing she saw was Damian falling.
When he woke, Emma was gone.
May you like
And written across the wall in black marker were four words:
BRING ME ANTHONY’S SON.
