Chapter 6 - THE WATCH THAT PROVED HIS FATHER HAD BEEN ON THE ROAD
“My father didn't just send my mother away. He may have known her car wasn't safe.”
Luca spoke the words while staring at the old service invoice.
Daniel shook his head.
“No. Dad was hard on us, but he wouldn't…”
He couldn't finish.
Margaret looked devastated.
“Vittorio loved Sofia.”
Luca turned toward her.
“Then why did he allow her to leave in that car?”
“I don't know.”
“Why did he come home bleeding?”
Margaret lowered her eyes.
“I don't know that either.”
Luca placed the invoice on the table.
“That's what makes this unbearable. We spent our whole lives believing we knew our parents.”
I stood near the doorway.
Part of me wanted to leave the family alone with its grief.
But when Margaret reached for my hand, I stayed.
Daniel finally spoke.
“I can get the original vehicle maintenance records.”
Luca looked at him.
“From where?”
“Some of Dad's old business archives were moved to the family storage building when headquarters was renovated.”
“Then start looking.”
Daniel nodded.
“I will.”
Luca stopped him.
“And Daniel?”
His brother turned.
“No more destroying things because someone says they're dangerous.”
Daniel's face tightened.
“I understand.”
That afternoon, Vanessa came to the mansion.
She was no longer wearing her engagement ring.
Her eyes were swollen.
I was preparing tea for Margaret when I heard her speaking to Luca.
“My father says you've been contacting people about a twenty-nine-year-old accident.”
Luca stood by the fireplace.
“That's correct.”
“He says you're trying to ruin him.”
“I'm trying to find out how my mother died.”
Vanessa looked down.
“Luca, I didn't know about the accident.”
“Did you know about Margaret's letters?”
She hesitated.
“I knew Daniel had stopped some correspondence.”
“Why didn't you tell me?”
“Because Dad said Margaret was using your mother's memory to manipulate the family.”
Luca looked exhausted.
“You believed whatever your father told you.”
Vanessa's eyes filled.
“He was the one person I always trusted.”
“And Margaret trusted you when you said I'd agreed to buy her house.”
Vanessa began crying.
“I know what I did was wrong.”
For a moment, her carefully controlled expression disappeared.
“My father built Sinclair Development from almost nothing. When the banks started threatening to call the loans, he panicked.”
Luca waited.
“He told me that without Ridgeway, hundreds of employees could lose their jobs. I thought if Margaret accepted enough money, everybody could be helped.”
“Except Margaret.”
Vanessa nodded.
“I didn't want to see that.”
She wiped her face.
“But I never wanted anyone hurt.”
Luca answered quietly.
“Then help us discover who did.”
Vanessa looked frightened.
“My father won't forgive me.”
“That's a decision you'll have to make.”
She left without promising anything.
Later that evening, Daniel returned carrying an old steel document case.
He'd found it among Vittorio's archived belongings.
Inside were vehicle registrations, invoices, and insurance correspondence.
Most concerned the year Sofia died.
Daniel spread everything across the study desk.
“Look at these vehicle identification numbers.”
Luca examined them.
The invoice we'd found had a registration reference matching a black company sedan.
Not Sofia's personal car.
Luca frowned.
“Then whose vehicle was inspected?”
Daniel located a photograph.
“Dad's.”
The black sedan had been registered to Vittorio Moretti.
The disputed invoice belonged to that car.
Not Sofia's.
Luca sat down.
“So Dad wasn't authorizing repairs to Mom's brakes.”
“No,” Daniel said. “He was trying to get his own car released.”
Margaret closed her eyes.
“His car was damaged.”
I remembered the silver watch.
“The repair receipt was dated three weeks after the accident.”
Luca looked toward me.
“What are you thinking?”
“If your father was on the road that night, why did Edwin Sinclair have his watch repaired afterward?”
We examined the watch again.
Its glass was broken.
There were scratches along the case.
But beneath the leather strap, I noticed a dark stain that hadn't been visible earlier.
Luca held it under the desk lamp.
The watch was more damaged than we'd realized.
Then Daniel found a notation among the insurance papers.
The black Moretti sedan had been towed from a county road shortly after midnight on the night Sofia died.
The official family account said Vittorio had remained at home.
But the towing record told a different story.
He'd been near the crash.
Very near.
The following morning, Luca brought the records to investigators.
They located the original towing company's surviving business files.
A retired employee named Thomas Keene agreed to speak with them.
He'd been twenty-four when the accident occurred.
Now he was in his fifties.
I accompanied Margaret and Luca to the meeting because Margaret refused to remain at home.
Thomas remembered the storm.
And he remembered Vittorio.
“I found him walking beside the road,” Thomas said.
“His hand was bleeding. He kept asking whether anyone had reached the other car.”
Luca leaned forward.
“What other car?”
Thomas hesitated.
“A silver station wagon. I think it was your mother's.”
“Did you see it?”
“Only from a distance. Emergency vehicles were already there.”
Luca gripped the chair.
“Did my father tell you what happened?”
Thomas looked uncomfortable.
“He said another vehicle had forced his wife off the road.”
Margaret gasped.
Luca stared at him.
“And what did the police do?”
Thomas shook his head.
“I assumed they'd investigated. I gave them everything I remembered.”
He paused.
“Your father was terrified. Not angry. Terrified.”
Then he said something else.
“He kept saying he should've gone with her.”
Luca covered his mouth.
For nearly thirty years, he'd believed his father had sent Sofia into the storm and stayed comfortably at home.
Now it appeared Vittorio had followed her.
And had tried to reach her.
But why?
That answer came a little closer when Daniel examined the route taken by the towing company.
The road led toward Margaret's farmhouse.
Sofia hadn't been driving away from her children to abandon them.
She'd been driving toward her sister.
That evening, we returned to the farmhouse with permission from the sheriff to inspect the repaired kitchen.
Margaret sat at the table, touching the photograph of Sofia.
“She was coming to me,” she whispered.
Luca knelt beside her.
“What was she bringing?”
Margaret shook her head.
“I don't know.”
Then her eyes fell on the damaged cabinet.
“Wait.”
She reached for the old silver watch.
“Your mother used to hide little notes behind its leather strap. Anniversary messages. Reminders.”
Luca carefully removed the strap.
A narrow folded paper was tucked beneath the damaged metal fitting.
The ink had faded.
But the handwriting remained readable.
It was Sofia's.
Vittorio, if they find me before I reach Margaret, protect the boys. And don't let Edwin take the Ridgeway papers.
Luca stared at the words.
Then his voice broke.
“Mom knew someone was following her.”
Margaret touched the note.
“And she trusted your father to protect you.”
Luca looked toward Daniel.
But there was one final line written on the other side.
If anything happens to me, remember what we agreed about the twelve families.
Daniel read it aloud.
Then he stared at his brother.
“Twelve families?”
Luca looked down at the broken cabinet.
And Margaret whispered the words that changed everything again.
“Your mother wasn't trying to save our family fortune.”
May you like
Her eyes filled.
“She was trying to give twelve other families their homes back.”
