Chapter 5 - Warehouse Seventeen
Warehouse Seventeen had been abandoned for six years.
At least on paper.
Dante knew the property.
His father once leased it for restaurant supplies before the waterfront district was redeveloped.
Julian had handled the closure.
That fact made everyone uncomfortable.
Sophia remained at Belladonna under police protection.
Clara wanted to stay.
Sophia surprised her.
“Go.”
Clara knelt.
“Are you sure?”
The little girl nodded.
“Find truth.”
Dante stood behind her.
Sophia looked up at him.
“You come back.”
Dante crouched.
“I will.”
She held his face between her small hands.
“No angry.”
Clara watched him absorb the words.
Dante nodded.
“No angry.”
It was not exactly a promise.
Sophia understood that.
She frowned.
Dante tried again.
“I’ll use my head.”
Satisfied, she hugged him.
Clara, Dante, Sloan, and two plainclothes officers approached Warehouse Seventeen from separate directions.
No one brought Margaret’s original drive.
Clara carried a copy.
Sloan objected to her coming.
Clara refused to stay behind.
“That is my mother’s name on those files.”
Dante supported her.
“She chooses.”
The warehouse door was unlocked.
Inside, a single hanging bulb illuminated Marco.
He sat in a chair.
Not tied.
Clara stopped.
Sloan raised his weapon.
“Hands where I can see them.”
Marco did.
“I’m not being held.”
Dante’s expression darkened.
“Then what are you doing?”
“Waiting.”
“For Julian?”
“No.”
Marco looked at Clara.
“For her.”
Clara stared.
“What do you want?”
Marco’s eyes filled with shame.
“To finish what I should have finished three years ago.”
Dante stepped closer.
“Talk.”
Marco looked at Sloan.
“No recording.”
Sloan shook his head.
“Not happening.”
“Then I say nothing.”
Dante’s patience snapped.
“Marco.”
Clara raised a hand.
“Wait.”
She approached the old man.
“Why me?”
“Because Margaret trusted you even when she kept you outside her work.”
“That doesn’t answer me.”
Marco lowered his eyes.
“Because your mother saved my life.”
Clara froze.
“When?”
“The night Elena died.”
Marco explained.
He had arrived at Belladonna after receiving a panicked call from Elena.
She wanted him to bring Dante.
But Julian intercepted him downstairs.
Julian claimed Elena had discovered financial irregularities and become irrational.
Marco believed him for ten minutes.
Then he heard Elena screaming.
He entered the private room.
Elena was alive.
Angry.
Terrified.
Sophia was hidden.
Julian held Elena’s phone.
Marco realized the truth.
He tried to help Elena leave.
Julian’s driver blocked them.
Marco was struck during the struggle.
When he woke, Margaret was there.
She had arrived late and found him bleeding.
Elena was gone.
Sophia remained hidden.
Margaret found her.
“She wanted to call Dante,” Marco said.
“Why didn’t she?” Clara demanded.
“Because Julian told us Dante was involved.”
Dante’s face went cold.
“He what?”
“He showed Margaret documents with your authorization.”
“Forged.”
“Yes. We know that now.”
Marco looked ashamed.
“But that night, we didn’t.”
Clara thought of her mother.
A working woman.
An accountant.
Caught between people with power.
She could imagine how terrifying those documents must have been.
“What happened to Sophia?”
“Margaret wanted to take her to police. Before she could, another security team arrived. They were loyal to Dante. We panicked. Sophia was discovered in the storage area, and everything became confusion.”
Dante’s voice cracked.
“She was found hours later.”
Marco nodded.
“Margaret and I moved her to another hiding place first.”
“Why?”
“To keep Julian from finding her.”
Dante turned away.
For years, he had wondered why Sophia was found in a room no one remembered putting her in.
Now he knew.
“What happened to Elena?”
Marco looked toward the back wall.
“I don’t know.”
Dante spun.
“You told me you knew what Julian did.”
“I know what he did before she vanished. I know he forged documents. I know he threatened Elena. I know he removed her from Belladonna.”
“But you didn’t see her die.”
“No.”
Clara felt an unexpected spark of hope.
Sloan saw it.
“Clara.”
She looked at him.
He shook his head gently.
“Her death was confirmed.”
“I know.”
But something bothered her.
“How?”
Everyone looked at her.
“How was Elena identified?”
Sloan answered.
“Dental records and personal effects.”
“Who supplied the dental records?”
Sloan frowned.
“The family dentist.”
“Who contacted him?”
“I’d have to check.”
Dante already knew.
His expression changed.
“Julian.”
Sloan stared.
“You remember?”
“Julian handled everything. I was barely functioning.”
Clara’s pulse accelerated.
“What if—”
Sloan raised a hand.
“Do not jump ahead. Dental identification is reliable when records are accurate.”
“When records are accurate,” Clara repeated.
Marco stood.
“There’s more.”
He walked toward a rusted cabinet.
Sloan stopped him and checked it first.
Inside was a metal lockbox.
Marco gave Clara the key.
She opened it.
Bank statements.
Photographs.
A second phone.
And an envelope addressed to Margaret.
Clara opened it.
Elena’s handwriting.
MARGARET — IF I CANNOT REACH DANTE, TAKE SOPHIA TO CLARA.
Clara’s vision blurred.
She kept reading.
YOUR DAUGHTER DOESN’T KNOW US. THAT IS WHY SHE MAY BE THE ONLY PERSON JULIAN CANNOT ANTICIPATE.
Dante stared at the letter.
“So Elena planned this.”
“She planned for the possibility that she would be trapped,” Marco said.
“Why Clara?”
“Because Margaret never brought Clara into the Vancini world.”
Clara almost laughed at the irony.
Three years later, the Vancini world had come straight to her restaurant section.
Sloan examined the second phone.
“It still has power.”
“That’s impossible.”
“Battery’s been replaced.”
Marco nodded.
“I’ve been keeping it charged.”
“Why not bring it sooner?”
“Fear.”
Dante looked disgusted.
Marco accepted it.
“Yes. Fear. The same thing that stole three years from your daughter.”
He handed the phone to Clara.
“One recording matters.”
Clara pressed play.
Elena’s voice.
Calm.
Controlled.
“If Dante hears this, tell him I found the transfers. Julian is moving money and using my name. But that isn’t what frightens me most.”
A pause.
“Sophia saw him meeting someone from law enforcement.”
Sloan stiffened.
Dante looked at him.
Sloan immediately said, “Not me.”
The recording continued.
“I don’t know who the officer is. Julian says he can make any investigation disappear.”
Another pause.
“If I vanish, Dante must not trust the first person who tells him the case is closed.”
Everyone looked at Sloan.
He slowly lowered his weapon.
“I wasn’t the first investigator.”
Dante’s eyes narrowed.
“Who was?”
Sloan swallowed.
“Captain Reeves.”
Marco whispered, “He retired two years ago.”
“Where is he?”
“Florida, supposedly.”
Dante called one of his men.
Before he could finish, the warehouse lights shut off.
Darkness swallowed them.
Sloan shouted, “Nobody move!”
A crash came from the rear.
Clara ducked.
Dante found her arm.
“I’ve got you.”
Emergency lights flickered red.
Marco was gone.
The rear door stood open.
On the chair where he had been sitting lay his phone.
Its screen glowed.
One message.
FROM JULIAN.
Dante opened it.
YOU’RE STILL LOOKING AT THE WRONG DEAD WOMAN.
Below the message was a photograph.
A woman stepping off a train.
Taken that morning.
Her face was partially turned away.
Dark hair.
A familiar profile.
A silver chain around her neck.
Dante’s hand began to shake.
Clara stared at him.
“You recognize her.”
May you like
He could barely speak.
“That’s Elena.”
