Chapter 4 - THE COAT IN THE SECURITY CAMERA
Clara grabbed Sofia’s shoulders.
“What did you say?”
Sofia pointed at Mercer in the photograph.
“That coat.”
The doctor wore a dark wool coat.
Nothing unusual.
Sofia shook her head.
“No. Tonight.”
Vincent crouched.
“Tell me slowly.”
“When I woke up before Clara found me, Dr. Mercer was there.”
Clara felt cold.
“He put a coat over me.”
“What coat?”
“The green one.”
Clara stopped breathing.
Her mother owned a dark green wool coat with wooden buttons.
She had worn it every winter for almost twenty years.
Sofia looked at Clara.
“It smelled like your scarf.”
Clara had visited Elena that afternoon wearing her mother’s old knitted scarf.
Vincent understood.
“Mercer had been near Elena.”
They left for St. Matthew’s within minutes.
Vincent insisted Clara ride with him.
Rebecca stayed with Sofia.
For once, Clara did not argue.
At the rehabilitation center, the night supervisor showed them security footage.
At 1:06 a.m., Elena entered the lobby in a wheelchair.
A man pushed her.
His face was hidden beneath a baseball cap.
Clara leaned toward the monitor.
“That isn’t Mercer.”
Vincent agreed.
The man was too broad.
Then he turned slightly.
Clara’s blood went cold.
“Daniel.”
Vincent stared.
The man who claimed Rebecca had hired him to protect Teresa had removed Clara’s mother from St. Matthew’s.
At 1:08, Elena and Daniel left through the main entrance.
But something strange happened.
Elena reached up.
She touched Daniel’s hand.
Not like a prisoner.
Like someone reassuring him.
Clara stared.
“She went willingly.”
Vincent said nothing.
The supervisor pulled another camera.
Outside, Daniel helped Elena into a sedan.
Before getting in, Elena looked directly toward the camera.
Then she raised her hand.
Three fingers.
Lowered one.
Raised two.
Clara’s eyes filled.
“What?”
Vincent looked at her.
“That’s something she used when I was little.”
“What does it mean?”
“Bus routes.”
Clara almost laughed from shock.
“My mother hated driving. We used buses for everything.”
Three.
One.
Two.
Route 312.
She pulled out her phone.
The 312 bus ran toward Bloomfield.
Its final stop was near an old Catholic church.
St. Catherine’s.
Clara knew it.
Her mother had taken her there every December until Clara was twelve.
They drove there.
The church was locked.
But the parish hall behind it showed light beneath one door.
Vincent entered first.
Daniel sat at a folding table.
Elena Mendoza sat across from him.
Alive.
Wearing a hospital robe beneath a borrowed sweater.
Her green coat lay across a chair.
Clara stopped.
“Mom?”
Elena turned.
Her face collapsed.
“Oh, mija.”
Clara crossed the room and hugged her.
Anger arrived immediately after relief.
“What are you doing?”
“I’m sorry.”
“You left rehabilitation with a stranger!”
“Daniel isn’t a stranger.”
Clara looked at him.
Daniel lowered his eyes.
Elena touched Clara’s cheek.
“You found Sofia?”
“Yes.”
“Is she safe?”
“For now.”
Elena closed her eyes.
“Thank God.”
Vincent stepped forward.
“Elena.”
She looked at him.
Thirty years seemed to pass through her face.
“You look like Carlo.”
Vincent’s jaw tightened.
“So I’ve been told.”
Elena noticed the photograph in his hand.
Everything changed.
“Where did you get that?”
“Sofia.”
Elena looked frightened.
“Then Mercer knows.”
“Knows what?”
“That Lucia kept copies.”
Vincent placed the photograph on the table.
“Tell me what happened to my father.”
Elena stared at Carlo’s body.
“I worked evenings at the estate during Clara’s first year. Lucia arranged it. She wanted me close enough that she could help us without Carlo knowing.”
Clara stared at her mother.
“You worked for them?”
“For eleven months.”
“And never told me.”
“I wanted you to have a life that belonged to you.”
Elena looked at Vincent.
“The night Carlo died, he called me to the greenhouse. He said he had changed his will.”
Vincent’s eyes narrowed.
“He wanted to acknowledge Clara.”
Clara felt the room tilt.
Elena continued.
“Rebecca came looking for him. They argued. Carlo told her there would be changes in the family.”
Rebecca had known.
At least part of it.
“Then Mercer arrived,” Elena said.
“He gave Carlo an injection.”
“What kind?”
“I don’t know.”
“Did Rebecca see?”
“Yes.”
“Did she stop him?”
Elena hesitated.
That hesitation hurt.
“She thought it was medicine.”
Vincent looked away.
So Rebecca had been telling the truth.
Mostly.
“Carlo collapsed,” Elena continued. “Lucia was outside the greenhouse. She had a camera because she’d been documenting Mercer coming onto the property at odd hours.”
“Why?”
“She suspected he was stealing medication.”
A smaller crime hiding a larger one.
“Mercer told everyone Carlo suffered a heart attack.”
“And you?”
“I ran.”
Clara stared.
“You saw a man die and ran?”
Elena’s eyes filled.
“I had a baby.”
Clara’s anger faltered.
“Mercer knew about you,” Elena whispered. “He told me that if I spoke, you would grow up without a mother.”
Clara sat down.
Suddenly every cheap apartment, every secondhand coat, every quiet birthday with just the two of them looked different.
Not shame.
Protection.
Imperfect, frightened protection.
Vincent asked, “Why now?”
Elena reached for her green coat.
From inside the lining, she removed a silver pocket watch.
Clara recognized it immediately.
Elena opened it.
Inside was not an engraving.
It contained a tiny folded strip of paper.
A list of numbers.
Vincent frowned.
“Accounts?”
“No,” Daniel said.
“Storage boxes.”
Elena nodded.
“Lucia gave this to me the week before she died.”
Clara looked at her.
“Why didn’t you open them?”
“I did.”
Elena’s expression darkened.
“One was empty.”
“And the others?”
“One contains Carlo’s original medical records.”
Vincent leaned forward.
“And the last?”
Elena looked at Clara.
“Something Carlo left for you.”
Clara swallowed.
“What?”
“I don’t know. Lucia made me promise not to open it.”
Vincent’s phone vibrated.
Rebecca.
He answered.
Her voice came through strained.
“Vincent, Mercer is back.”
Vincent stood.
“Where?”
“He never left.”
Silence.
Rebecca whispered:
“We found his medical bag.”
“You already told me that.”
“No.”
Her breathing shook.
“We found the other one.”
Vincent’s face changed.
“Other what?”
“His real bag.”
A pause.
“It has sedatives, security codes, photographs of Sofia…”
Rebecca’s voice cracked.
“And a photograph of Clara taken yesterday.”
Clara felt Daniel stand behind her.
Rebecca continued.
“There’s writing across the bottom.”
“What does it say?”
Rebecca read it.
“If Elena won’t give us the watch, use the daughter.”
Then another voice came through Vincent’s phone.
Male.
Calm.
Close to Rebecca.
“Thank you, Vincent.”
Mercer.
A child cried in the background.
Sofia.
May you like
And Mercer said:
“Now bring me Elena’s watch.”
