Chapter 3 - THE WOMAN IN THE PHOTOGRAPH
The next three days passed quietly.
Too quietly.
Alessandro hated quiet when he knew danger was hiding inside it.
Every security camera on the estate was checked.
Every maintenance employee questioned.
Every key-card entry reviewed.
The gate had been opened at 9:14 p.m. using a master access credential assigned to Matteo Moretti.
Alessandro’s cousin.
Matteo had been in Florida.
At least according to his phone.
According to the estate cameras, however, Matteo’s access card had entered the west hall two hours before the gate opened.
Someone had copied it.
Or Matteo was lying.
Neither possibility pleased Alessandro.
He ordered Marco to investigate without alerting anyone.
Meanwhile, Emma behaved as though the greatest crisis on the property involved Bruno refusing carrots.
“You eat it.”
The dog turned his head.
Emma pushed the carrot closer.
“Vegetable.”
Bruno looked disgusted.
Sophia laughed from the kitchen doorway.
“He agrees with most children.”
Emma pointed at Bruno.
“Doctor says healthy.”
“Doctor said medication, rest, and limited walking.”
“And carrot.”
“I don’t remember carrots.”
“I remember.”
“You invented that.”
Emma gasped.
Bruno ate the carrot.
Emma threw both hands up.
“See?”
Sophia smiled.
Then she noticed someone standing outside.
A woman.
Late sixties.
Silver hair.
Long camel coat.
Expensive gloves.
Watching Emma through the window.
Sophia’s smile disappeared.
She opened the door halfway.
“Can I help you?”
The woman’s gaze moved from Emma to Sophia.
Her face changed.
Only slightly.
But enough.
“You’re Sophia Carter.”
“Yes.”
“I’m Elena Moretti.”
Sophia knew the name.
Alessandro’s aunt.
His father’s younger sister.
She lived mostly in New York and rarely visited Chicago.
“I wasn’t told you were coming.”
“I don’t generally announce myself to housekeeping.”
The words were polite.
The tone wasn’t.
Sophia remained calm.
“Mr. Moretti asked that nobody enter without his approval.”
Elena’s eyebrows rose.
“Alessandro said that?”
“Yes.”
Something complicated flickered behind her eyes.
“Interesting.”
Emma appeared beside Sophia.
“Who’s she?”
“Emma.”
“What?”
“We don’t ask people who they are like that.”
Elena stared at the child.
Emma stared back.
Bruno appeared behind her.
The woman’s face lost color.
“Dear God.”
Bruno walked past Emma.
Stopped between Elena and the doorway.
Then growled.
Elena took one involuntary step backward.
Sophia placed her hand on Bruno’s shoulder.
“Easy.”
The growl stopped.
Elena looked stunned.
“You control him?”
“No.”
Sophia glanced at Emma.
“She does.”
Emma waved.
Elena did not wave back.
Instead she studied Sophia again.
More carefully.
“Your husband?”
“Passed away.”
“How?”
Sophia’s spine stiffened.
“Car accident.”
“When?”
“Three years ago.”
Elena’s mouth parted.
“Three years?”
“Yes.”
“What was his name?”
“That’s personal.”
“I asked a simple question.”
“And I gave you a boundary.”
Elena stared at her.
Then something strange happened.
The older woman smiled.
Not warmly.
Almost with disbelief.
“You really don’t know.”
“Know what?”
Before Elena could answer, a black sedan stopped behind her.
Alessandro stepped out.
He crossed the snow with purpose.
“Aunt Elena.”
She turned.
“Alessandro.”
“You were told to remain in the main house.”
“I’m sixty-seven years old, not twelve.”
“You were also told not to approach this cottage.”
“You failed to mention why.”
His gaze moved to Sophia.
“Go inside.”
Sophia’s eyes narrowed.
“There it is again.”
“What?”
“That thing where you tell me nothing.”
“Inside, Sophia.”
Elena looked between them.
Then smiled slowly.
“Oh.”
Alessandro’s jaw tightened.
“Enough.”
Elena’s expression sharpened.
“You gave her your private number, didn’t you?”
Sophia looked at Alessandro.
How did she know that?
Alessandro’s voice dropped.
“Main house. Now.”
Elena walked past him.
Then stopped beside Sophia.
“Ask him about Daniel Carter.”
Sophia froze.
“What?”
Alessandro moved instantly.
“Elena.”
But his aunt continued.
“Ask him why your dead husband’s photograph was in Alessandro’s father’s office.”
Sophia stopped breathing.
The world seemed to tilt.
“What did you say?”
Elena walked away.
Sophia turned slowly toward Alessandro.
He looked like a man deciding whether a lie was worth the consequences.
“You knew Daniel?”
Silence.
“Did you know my husband?”
“Sophia—”
“Answer me.”
Emma looked between them.
Bruno pressed against her leg.
Alessandro finally said, “Yes.”
The word hurt more than Sophia expected.
“How?”
“Daniel worked for my father.”
Sophia laughed once.
It contained no humor.
“My husband sold insurance.”
“No.”
“What do you mean, no?”
“He told you he sold insurance.”
“You’re lying.”
“I wish I were.”
Sophia stepped backward.
Daniel.
Her Daniel.
The man who made pancakes on Sundays.
Who sang badly in the shower.
Who had held Emma at the hospital and cried so hard the nurses laughed.
“He worked for your family?”
“For my father. Financial records. Logistics.”
“Crime?”
Alessandro didn’t answer.
That was answer enough.
Sophia covered her mouth.
Emma grabbed her coat.
“Mommy?”
“I’m okay.”
She wasn’t.
“Did Daniel die in an accident?”
Alessandro’s eyes changed.
Sophia saw the answer before he spoke.
“The police report says yes.”
“That is not what I asked.”
“No.”
Her knees weakened.
“What happened?”
“We don’t know.”
“You knew for four months who I was.”
“Yes.”
“And you let me work here without telling me?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because I didn’t know whether you knew what Daniel had been doing.”
“And now?”
“I believe you didn’t.”
Sophia stared at him.
Every memory of her husband was suddenly rearranging itself.
Late meetings.
Business trips.
The locked drawer.
The second phone she once found and Daniel claimed belonged to a client.
The night before his death when he had sat beside Emma’s crib for nearly an hour.
He had known.
Maybe he had known something was coming.
“You think his death is connected to your family.”
Alessandro said nothing.
Sophia stepped closer.
“You think someone killed him.”
“I think Daniel discovered something.”
“What?”
“That is what I have spent three years trying to determine.”
She looked toward Emma.
Fear changed shape inside her.
The strange SUV.
The unlocked gate.
Elena appearing suddenly.
“Does this have something to do with us?”
Alessandro’s silence returned.
Sophia grabbed Emma.
“We’re leaving.”
“No.”
She turned.
“You do not get to tell me no.”
“If you leave this estate now, whoever watched this cottage can reach you.”
“You brought danger into my life.”
“No.”
His expression hardened.
“Daniel did.”
Sophia slapped him.
The sound cracked through the cold air.
Marco, twenty yards away, stopped.
Two guards turned.
Alessandro did nothing.
Sophia’s hand trembled.
“He was my husband.”
“I know.”
“He was Emma’s father.”
“I know.”
“You don’t get to speak about him like that.”
Alessandro’s cheek reddened.
He didn’t touch it.
“I should have told you.”
“Yes.”
“I didn’t because I wasn’t sure whether knowing would put you in more danger.”
“You don’t get to decide what truths I can survive.”
No one had spoken to Alessandro like that in years.
She took Emma inside.
The door slammed.
Bruno remained outside.
He looked at Alessandro.
Then at the closed door.
Then walked over and sat beside it.
Alessandro stared at him.
“Not you too.”
Bruno lowered his head.
Marco approached carefully.
“You all right?”
Alessandro glanced at him.
Marco corrected himself.
“Bad question.”
“Yes.”
Marco handed him a tablet.
“We found something connected to Daniel.”
Alessandro read the screen.
His face changed.
A bank transfer.
Three days before Daniel Carter died.
$250,000.
Sent to a shell company.
The shell company belonged to someone inside the Moretti organization.
Alessandro looked at the name.
Matteo Moretti.
His cousin.
At that exact moment, a child screamed from inside the cottage.
“Mommy!”
Alessandro reached the door in two strides.
Sophia opened it.
She was holding an envelope.
No stamp.
No address.
It had been pushed beneath Emma’s bedroom window.
Inside was a photograph.
Daniel Carter.
Alive.
Standing beside Matteo Moretti.
May you like
And across Daniel’s face someone had written two words in black ink.
SHE KNOWS.
