Chapter 2 - The Medicine That Shouldn't Have Been There
Luca crossed the nursery in three steps.
He opened the door.
Genevieve stood there with both hands visible.
Two security officers waited behind her.
“Where were you at 9:12?” Luca asked.
She did not pretend not to understand.
“In the west corridor.”
“Outside this room?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“I was checking on Matteo.”
“With medication?”
Her eyes flicked toward me.
Luca noticed.
“Don't look at Elena.”
“I'm not.”
“Yes, you are.”
Genevieve took a breath.
“I brought Matteo his evening dose.”
“Which medication?”
“Something Dr. Bell prescribed.”
Dr. Keller immediately shook his head.
“Dr. Bell has not prescribed anything new in six days.”
Genevieve looked at him.
“You don't know every conversation I had with him.”
“I know every medication given to this child.”
Luca held up his hand.
“Enough.”
Everyone stopped.
He turned to Genevieve.
“Show me the prescription.”
“I don't have it.”
“Then show me the message.”
“He called.”
“Phone record.”
She did not move.
Luca's face changed.
“Genevieve.”
“I was trying to help him.”
Those words chilled me.
Luca stared at the woman who had helped raise him.
“How?”
Genevieve looked toward Matteo's crib.
“He couldn't sleep.”
“He was barely conscious.”
“He was restless before that.”
“So you drugged him?”
“No.”
“What did you give my son?”
Her eyes filled.
“I need you to understand why.”
Luca stepped closer.
“No. You need to tell me what.”
Dr. Keller intervened.
“Whatever this is, we should wait for toxicology.”
Luca did not look at him.
“How long?”
“Preliminary results can be rushed.”
“How long?”
“Two hours.”
Luca nodded toward security.
“Take Mrs. Vale to the sitting room. She doesn't leave.”
Genevieve stiffened.
“You are detaining me?”
“I am protecting my son.”
“I have protected that boy every day since he was born.”
“Then you should have no problem waiting.”
The guards escorted her away.
I watched Luca close the door.
His hand remained on the knob for several seconds.
“You trusted her,” I said.
He looked at me.
“She was my mother's closest friend.”
I waited.
“My mother died when I was seventeen. Genevieve stayed.”
That explained the way she spoke to him.
“She helped raise you.”
“Yes.”
“And now you think she poisoned Matteo?”
“I didn't say that.”
“You didn't need to.”
He looked at his sleeping son.
“I don't know what I think.”
There was a knock.
Marco DeLuca, Luca's head of security, entered.
He was in his mid-forties with a shaved head and a permanent expression of suspicion.
“Sir.”
“Tell me.”
“We restored part of the camera system.”
“And?”
“The nursery feed was manually disabled.”
“From where?”
“Administration terminal.”
“Who has access?”
“Mrs. Vale. Me. You.”
Luca's eyes sharpened.
“Anyone else?”
“Your executive assistant has emergency privileges.”
“Damien?”
“Yes.”
I had seen Damien Cole twice since arriving.
Thirty-something.
Perfect suits.
Perfect manners.
Always carrying two phones.
“What about medical staff?” Luca asked.
“No.”
“Housekeeping?”
“No.”
Marco looked at me when he said it.
I understood why.
I was household staff.
And the camera stopped while I was working nearby.
“I didn't touch any terminal,” I said.
Marco gave me a neutral look.
“I didn't say you did.”
“You were thinking it.”
“Elena,” Luca said.
I turned.
“This isn't helping.”
“What exactly would help?”
His eyes held mine.
“The truth.”
I nearly laughed.
“That makes two of us.”
At 3:41 a.m., Dr. Keller received the first laboratory result.
He read it twice.
Then he sat down.
That frightened me more than anything else.
Luca stood over him.
“What?”
Keller looked at Matteo.
Then at Luca.
“There is a sedative in his bloodstream.”
“What sedative?”
“Midazolam.”
Luca's face emptied.
I knew enough from first-aid training to recognize the name.
A benzodiazepine.
Used in hospitals.
Useful.
Powerful.
And potentially dangerous in the wrong dose.
Keller continued.
“The level isn't enormous now, but based on the metabolite concentration, he may have received repeated doses.”
“For how long?”
“I can't say yet.”
“Days?”
“Possibly.”
Luca stared at him.
“Could it cause the weakness?”
“Yes.”
“The slow responses?”
“Yes.”
“Breathing problems?”
“Yes.”
“The changes in heart rate?”
“Yes.”
Each answer hit harder.
Finally Luca said, “Could it kill him?”
Keller paused.
“In a medically fragile infant, combined with other factors, it could contribute to respiratory failure.”
Luca turned away.
His fist hit the wall.
Once.
Not violently enough to break anything.
Just enough to tell us he wanted to break everything.
I looked toward the baby.
Matteo stirred.
“Don't,” I said.
Luca looked at me.
“He'll hear you.”
The anger vanished from his face.
He crossed the room and crouched beside the crib.
“I'm sorry.”
His voice was barely audible.
Matteo slept.
Luca rested two fingers against the baby's tiny hand.
“I should have known.”
“You couldn't.”
His gaze snapped toward me.
“You don't know that.”
“No.”
I kept my voice steady.
“But somebody hiding medicine from doctors was trying very hard to make sure you wouldn't know.”
That reached him.
Not comfort.
Logic.
He stood.
“Marco.”
The security chief stepped closer.
“Find every record of medication entering this property for the last month.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Every employee purchase. Every delivery. Every medical package.”
“Yes.”
“And Damien.”
“What about him?”
“Bring him here.”
Marco hesitated.
“He left the estate at eight.”
Luca went still.
“You said the estate was locked down.”
“It is.”
“Where is he?”
“He was already gone before lockdown.”
“Call him.”
“We have.”
“And?”
“No answer.”
Luca swore under his breath.
He pulled out his own phone and called.
Voicemail.
Again.
Voicemail.
Dr. Keller placed the test results on the table.
“There is another issue.”
Luca looked over.
“What?”
“Midazolam isn't the only abnormal finding.”
My stomach tightened.
“What else?” I asked.
Keller glanced at me, then Luca.
“Matteo's blood shows traces of digoxin.”
Luca frowned.
“He takes digoxin.”
“He did.”
“Did?”
“I discontinued it nine days ago.”
Nobody moved.
Luca's voice dropped.
“Why?”
“Because his rhythm changed. We switched treatment.”
“Could there still be traces?”
“Not like this.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means he has received digoxin recently.”
Luca paced once across the nursery and back.
“Could too much cause his symptoms?”
“Yes.”
“What symptoms?”
“Nausea. Weakness. Confusion. Arrhythmias. In serious cases, death.”
The word seemed to absorb the oxygen from the room.
I looked at Matteo.
Two weeks of specialists.
Two weeks of machines.
Two weeks of everyone believing his mysterious decline was part of an illness.
Maybe it was not.
Maybe someone had been creating it.
Luca turned to Marco.
“Get Genevieve.”
She returned ten minutes later.
She had composed herself.
That lasted until Luca placed the toxicology report in front of her.
“What is this?” she asked.
“You tell me.”
She read.
Her hand began to tremble.
“I didn't give him digoxin.”
“You admit the sedative?”
Silence.
“Genevieve.”
“Yes.”
Luca closed his eyes.
“Why?”
“He was suffering.”
“You don't get to decide that.”
“His doctors kept increasing tests. He wasn't sleeping. He was crying.”
“Then you call the doctor.”
“I did.”
“You lied about Bell.”
She looked ashamed.
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because I knew you would react exactly like this.”
“Like a father whose child was drugged?”
“I gave him tiny doses.”
“Without authorization.”
“I knew the medication.”
“You are not a doctor.”
“No.”
“Where did you get it?”
Genevieve stared at the floor.
“From Damien.”
That changed everything.
Luca leaned forward.
“Damien gave you the sedative?”
“He said one of the medical consultants had approved it.”
“Which consultant?”
“I don't know.”
“You didn't ask?”
“He showed me a message.”
“Show me.”
“It was on his phone.”
Marco cursed quietly.
Luca looked at him.
“Find Damien.”
“We are.”
Genevieve shook her head.
“He wouldn't hurt Matteo.”
“You just told me he supplied unauthorized medication.”
“I thought it was legitimate.”
“What about digoxin?”
“I swear I didn't give him that.”
“Who did?”
“I don't know.”
Luca looked ready to explode.
Then Matteo cried.
One clear, sharp cry.
Every adult in the room turned.
I reached him first.
I lifted him carefully.
His face was red.
His little fists tightened.
Then he cried again.
Dr. Keller smiled.
Actually smiled.
“That's good.”
Luca stared.
“My son crying is good?”
“Right now? Very.”
Matteo opened his eyes.
His gaze drifted.
Then settled on Luca.
I moved closer.
“Talk to him.”
Luca looked almost afraid.
“What do I say?”
“Anything.”
He touched Matteo's cheek.
“Hey, buddy.”
The baby quieted slightly.
Luca swallowed.
“It's Dad.”
Matteo blinked.
For the first time, I saw Luca Rossi look completely powerless in a way that had nothing to do with money.
It was love.
Raw and terrified.
Then Matteo made a tiny sound.
Luca laughed once.
A broken little sound.
Genevieve covered her mouth.
Even Marco looked away.
For one minute, there was no investigation.
No poison.
No suspicion.
Just a father hearing his child.
Then Marco's phone buzzed.
He looked at the screen.
His expression sharpened.
“Sir.”
“What?”
“We found Damien's car.”
Luca's attention shifted immediately.
“Where?”
“Service road three miles east.”
“Is he there?”
“No.”
“Then where is he?”
Marco looked back at the message.
“The driver's door was open. His phone was inside.”
Luca stared at him.
“Anything else?”
“Yes.”
Marco turned the screen toward us.
A photograph showed Damien's abandoned car.
On the passenger seat was a white medical cooler.
Across its lid, somebody had written one name in black marker.
MATTEO ROSSI.
May you like
And beneath it were three words.
FINAL DOSE TONIGHT.
