Chapter 9 - THE TRAP
Luca did not go to the condo.
For a man who seemed built entirely from control, choosing not to walk into a trap was apparently the hardest thing I had seen him do.
He stood in my hospital room staring at Derek’s photograph for almost a minute.
Then he handed the phone to Detective Harris.
“Trace it.”
Harris blinked.
“You are cooperating?”
“Enjoy it while it lasts.”
Marco almost smiled.
The trace led nowhere.
Burner phone.
Signal bounced through three towers.
The photograph metadata had been scrubbed.
But the image itself gave them something.
A reflection in the window behind Derek.
Neon.
Red and white.
Marco enlarged it.
“Pharmacy sign.”
Harris frowned.
“There are hundreds.”
“Not with that logo.”
Luca recognized it.
“Bellini Pharmacy.”
Alvarez searched.
“Closed locations?”
“One.”
“Where?”
“Little Village.”
I looked at the photograph.
“That is not our condo.”
Everyone stared.
“What?” Harris asked.
“The kitchen cabinets.”
“What about them?”
“Ours are white.”
Marco zoomed.
Dark wood.
“They staged it.”
Luca’s expression sharpened.
“They want us to believe Derek is at Emma’s place.”
“Why?”
“To make me enter without a search.”
Harris nodded slowly.
“While the real location is somewhere near that pharmacy.”
They found an abandoned medical office two blocks away.
SWAT entered.
Derek was there.
Alive.
Samuel Pierce was not.
The chair was there.
Blood.
Ropes.
A camera.
But no kidnapper.
Derek claimed he had been abducted from the hospital parking garage.
Nobody believed him.
Then investigators found a syringe in his coat pocket containing traces of the same sedative used on Samuel Pierce.
That changed things.
By midnight, Derek Morrison was in police custody.
I should have felt safe.
I did not.
At 12:43 a.m., Detective Alvarez returned.
“He wants to speak to you.”
“No.”
“Good.”
I looked up.
“That easy?”
“He is asking because he wants leverage.”
“What did he say?”
“That he will explain everything if you come downstairs.”
“No.”
“He specifically said he knows who ordered Matteo’s murder.”
Luca stood from the chair beside the window.
“Take me.”
Alvarez shook her head.
“He asked for Emma.”
“Then he gets no one.”
I looked at Luca.
Then at Isabella.
“What if he really knows?”
“He does.”
We both turned.
Alvarez frowned.
“How can you be sure?”
“Because Derek did not enter this story accidentally.”
I thought about the photographs.
The coat.
The account opened in Isabella’s name before she was born.
“He targeted me.”
“Yes.”
“Maybe from the beginning.”
Luca’s silence confirmed it.
I hated the thought.
But I needed to hear Derek say it.
“I want to see him.”
“No.”
This time Luca said it.
I stared.
He corrected himself immediately.
“I think it is dangerous.”
“Better.”
His mouth tightened.
“You enjoy this.”
“A little.”
Detective Alvarez permitted a controlled video interview.
Derek remained in an interrogation room two floors below.
I stayed in my hospital room with Alvarez beside me and Luca out of camera range.
The screen came alive.
Derek looked terrible.
Swollen lip.
Bruised cheek.
Wrinkled blazer.
For the first time in years, he did not look polished.
He looked small.
“Emma.”
Hearing my name in his voice made my stomach turn.
“What do you want?”
“I need you to understand.”
“That usually means someone is about to lie.”
His expression tightened.
“I was trying to protect you.”
I laughed.
Of course.
“By faking your mistress’s pregnancy?”
His eyes moved.
Brittany had talked.
Good.
“By trying to steal Isabella?”
“I was never going to hurt her.”
“You tried to create a false medical transfer.”
Silence.
“You opened companies in my name.”
“I can explain.”
“You planned to use my daughter to make me sign away an inheritance I did not know existed.”
His face drained.
He had not known how much I knew.
“Who told you?”
“That is your concern?”
“Moretti?”
I leaned toward the screen.
“My concern is the man who shared my bed for three years and apparently began lying before he learned how I take my coffee.”
Derek closed his eyes.
“I did love you.”
“No.”
“I did.”
“No, you loved access.”
“That is not how it started.”
“Then tell me how it started.”
He hesitated.
“Someone hired me.”
My chest tightened.
“When?”
“Before I met you.”
There it was.
Still, hearing it hurt.
“How long before?”
“Three weeks.”
I stared.
“Who?”
“I never knew his real name.”
“Try.”
“He called himself Mr. Gray.”
Luca moved slightly behind the camera.
Derek saw nothing.
“What did he want?”
“For me to get close to you.”
“Why?”
“He said you had something that belonged to a client.”
“The coat?”
“I didn’t know about the coat initially.”
“What did you think I had?”
“Information.”
“I had none.”
“I realized that.”
“When?”
“After a few months.”
“Then why stay?”
His face changed.
“Because I fell in love with you.”
My anger almost became laughter.
“Do not.”
“It’s true.”
“You used my Social Security number.”
“Later.”
“As if timing improves identity theft.”
“I was in trouble.”
“Gambling.”
His face tightened again.
“Yes.”
“And Mr. Gray offered money.”
“Yes.”
“How much?”
“At first? Fifty thousand.”
My stomach turned.
Fifty thousand dollars.
That was the price of our first date.
“What happened after you found Matteo’s coat?”
Derek looked away.
“So you know.”
“Answer.”
“I found documents sewn in the lower lining.”
Luca stepped closer.
We had only found the key in the breast pocket.
“What documents?”
“Copies of transfers.”
“To whom?”
“I did not recognize most names.”
“Did you give them to Gray?”
“Yes.”
“All?”
“I thought so.”
Luca’s gaze sharpened.
“What do you mean, thought?”
Derek looked toward the camera.
“Who is there?”
“Nobody you need to worry about.”
For once, the line felt good.
He continued.
“There was a folded photograph.”
“Of what?”
“A house.”
“Where?”
“I don’t know.”
“What happened to it?”
“I kept it.”
“Why?”
“Because something was written on the back.”
“What?”
Derek’s breathing changed.
“A name.”
“Whose?”
He looked directly into the camera.
“Samuel Pierce.”
Alvarez stood.
“Where is the photograph?”
“My office.”
“Police searched your office.”
“Not that office.”
Of course.
“Where?”
“A private suite at Northstar.”
“Address?”
He gave it.
Alvarez texted immediately.
“What else?”
I asked.
Derek looked frightened now.
“I found Pierce.”
Silence.
“You what?”
“Two years ago.”
Luca stepped fully into frame.
Derek’s face changed.
“You.”
Luca ignored the fear.
“Where is Samuel?”
“I don’t know.”
“You kept him alive.”
“I didn’t.”
“His blood was in Brittany’s car.”
“That was not me.”
“Derek.”
“I swear.”
I almost laughed.
No one believed his swearing anymore.
He leaned toward the camera.
“Gray wanted Pierce found. I located him in Wisconsin under another name. That’s all.”
“What name?”
“Peter Samuels.”
“When did Gray take him?”
“Three weeks ago.”
My pulse rose.
Three weeks.
Just before Isabella was born.
“Why now?”
Derek looked at me.
“Because Pierce knew what was in the fifth box.”
The empty box.
“What?”
“A ledger.”
Luca’s face hardened.
“The second ledger.”
Derek nodded.
“It proves who ordered Matteo’s murder.”
“Who?”
“I never saw it.”
“Then who has it?”
“Pierce.”
“How do you know?”
“He told me.”
“When?”
“Before Gray took him.”
Luca leaned toward the camera.
“Who is Gray?”
Derek shook his head.
“I told you, I don’t know.”
“You know something.”
Silence.
Luca did not raise his voice.
“Six years. My brother has been dead six years. Choose your next answer carefully.”
Derek began sweating.
“He wears a ring.”
“What kind?”
“Gold.”
“That helps very little.”
“Moretti crest.”
The room stopped.
Luca stared.
“Impossible.”
“I saw it.”
“Describe it.”
“Lion. Crown. Black stone.”
Marco made a sound behind us.
I turned.
His face was pale.
“What?”
He looked at Luca.
“That was Vittorio’s signet.”
“My father was buried wearing it.”
“No.”
Marco shook his head.
“You thought he was.”
Luca’s eyes narrowed.
“What are you saying?”
“I prepared the body.”
Silence.
“The ring was missing.”
Luca stared.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Your mother said she had taken it.”
“My mother?”
“She said Vittorio promised it to Matteo.”
“But Matteo never wore it.”
“No.”
The implications spread through the room.
Someone close to Vittorio possessed his private signet.
Someone who knew Luca’s childhood nickname.
Someone who knew about me.
Someone who knew Matteo’s investigation.
Derek suddenly looked toward something outside his interrogation-room camera.
“What?”
Alvarez frowned.
“What is happening downstairs?”
A noise sounded through the speakers.
Then the interrogation-room lights went out.
Again.
“Derek?”
The video froze.
Harris shouted over the radio.
Alvarez ran for the door.
Luca followed.
I grabbed his sleeve.
“No.”
He turned.
“Stay here.”
“I know.”
For once we agreed.
The connection returned thirty seconds later.
The chair was empty.
No Derek.
The door remained closed.
Alvarez’s voice came through a radio somewhere.
“He’s gone.”
“That is impossible,” Harris shouted.
Then the camera tilted.
Someone had entered the room.
Not Derek.
An older man.
Gray hair.
Expensive dark coat.
He faced the camera deliberately.
Luca froze.
Marco stopped breathing.
I looked between them.
“You know him.”
Neither answered.
The older man smiled.
Then raised his right hand.
Gold ring.
Black stone.
Lion and crown.
Luca whispered one name.
May you like
“Uncle.”
And the screen went black.
