Chapter 2 - THE MAN BEHIND THE BEDROOM DOOR
“Uncle Raymond,” Luca said through the locked bedroom door, “why were you carrying my dead father’s walking cane into his study?”
The hallway fell silent.
Behind Luca, eighty-five-year-old Teresa Moretti tightened her trembling fingers around the blanket covering her knees.
“Luca,” she whispered. “Don't tell him what I saw.”
But it was too late.
Raymond Moretti had heard the question.
“What are you talking about?” his uncle finally answered. “Open the door. We need to discuss something important.”
“Then discuss it from there.”
A long pause followed.
“Your grandmother is confused. Vanessa told me about the cellar. The poor woman needs rest, not another interrogation.”
Luca looked at Teresa.
She shook her head.
“She wasn't confused when she recognized you on the security footage.”
Raymond's voice hardened.
“Careful, nephew. You're allowing a housekeeper's accusations to turn you against your own family.”
Luca felt something cold settle inside his chest.
For thirty-nine years, Raymond had been the uncle who taught him to drive, attended his school graduations, and stood beside him at his father's funeral.
After Carlo Moretti died eighteen months earlier, Raymond had helped Luca manage the family's shipping companies and real estate holdings.
Luca had trusted him with business matters he wouldn't discuss with anyone else.
Now his grandmother was terrified of hearing Raymond's footsteps outside her bedroom.
“Go downstairs,” Luca said. “Don't leave the estate.”
“You're giving me orders?”
“Yes.”
Raymond walked away without answering.
Only when the footsteps disappeared did Teresa release Luca's hand.
“Your father warned me,” she whispered.
“About Raymond?”
“About trusting the people who were closest to him.”
Luca sat beside her.
“Grandma, who was Raymond speaking to in the study?”
Teresa pressed her lips together.
Then she reached toward the small wooden rosary resting on her nightstand.
Carlo had brought it home from Italy decades earlier. The beads had darkened with age, and the tiny silver crucifix was worn smooth.
She held it between her palms.
“I saw Raymond enter the study,” she said. “He was carrying your father's cane.”
“Was someone waiting inside?”
“Yes.”
“Who?”
“Your father.”
Luca stopped breathing for a moment.
“My father is dead.”
Teresa closed her eyes.
“I know what happened at the hospital. I held his hand when he died. I helped choose his coffin.”
“Then what are you telling me?”
“That I heard his voice.”
Luca stared at her.
Teresa's eyes filled.
“Not from a living man, sweetheart. From a recording.”
The distinction should have relieved him.
Instead, it made his stomach turn.
“What recording?”
“Raymond was playing it for someone. I heard Carlo say, 'If Luca ever learns what you did, he'll never forgive either of us.'”
“Either of whom?”
“I couldn't see the other person's face.”
“Did you hear a name?”
Teresa hesitated.
“Margaret.”
Luca frowned.
Margaret Bellini had been his father's longtime personal secretary.
She had worked for the Moretti family for almost thirty years before retiring shortly after Carlo's death.
“Margaret lives in Providence,” Luca said.
“That's what Raymond told you.”
Teresa looked toward the closed door.
“Carlo made me promise something before he died. He said if Raymond ever brought that cane back into the study, I should find the blue photograph.”
“What photograph?”
“It's in the bracelet.”
Luca looked at his grandmother's bare wrist.
“The diamond bracelet Vanessa stole?”
Teresa nodded.
“Your grandfather gave it to me for our fortieth anniversary. One of the clasps opens.”
Luca leaned forward.
“What was inside?”
“A little photograph. Your father placed it there three days before he died.”
“Of whom?”
Teresa's voice broke.
“A woman holding a baby.”
Before Luca could question her further, the bedroom door opened.
Natalie Brooks entered carrying warm tea and a plate of toast.
She stopped when she saw Luca's expression.
“I'm sorry. Your grandmother asked me to bring something.”
“You're fine,” Luca said.
Natalie placed the tray beside Teresa.
The older woman immediately reached for her.
“Natalie, did you find my blue sweater?”
“Yes, Mrs. Moretti. It's warming in the dryer.”
“Good girl.”
Luca watched how easily Teresa relaxed around Natalie.
His grandmother had never trusted strangers quickly. Yet after only six months at the estate, Natalie had become one of the few people Teresa genuinely enjoyed spending time with.
“Natalie,” Luca said, “I need you to tell me exactly what happened before you found Grandma.”
Natalie looked toward the doorway.
“Vanessa asked me to carry champagne glasses to the downstairs pantry. I was coming back when I heard banging.”
“Had you seen Grandma earlier?”
“Yes. She was walking toward your father's study with her bracelet on.”
“What time?”
“A little after eight.”
“Was she alone?”
Natalie hesitated.
“No. Mr. Raymond was walking behind her.”
Luca stood.
That changed everything.
Raymond hadn't merely been visiting the study.
He had been following Teresa.
“Why didn't you mention that before?”
“Because I didn't think it mattered.”
Natalie swallowed.
“And because Vanessa told me that if I caused trouble, she'd make sure my brother's home-care agency lost its contract.”
Luca's expression tightened.
“What's your brother's name?”
“Daniel. He's twenty-three.”
“Does he live with you?”
“Yes. We have a small apartment in Middletown. I handle his care arrangements.”
“And Vanessa knew how much he depended on that agency?”
Natalie nodded.
“She asked about him a few weeks ago. I thought she was being kind.”
Teresa suddenly spoke.
“She wasn't.”
Both turned toward her.
“She asked about Natalie because Raymond told her to.”
A sharp vibration interrupted them.
Luca checked his phone.
His security chief, Marcus Reed, had sent a new message.
The hallway camera outside Carlo's study had captured another visitor.
At 8:19 p.m., three minutes after Raymond entered, a woman in a dark green coat slipped through the doorway.
Her face was partly hidden by a scarf.
But her left hand was visible.
On her middle finger was a large oval sapphire ring.
Luca recognized it immediately.
His mother had worn that ring throughout his childhood.
Until she died when he was seventeen.
He enlarged the image.
There could be another ring like it.
But the distinctive gold setting had a small crack beside the stone.
He remembered noticing that crack when he was a boy.
“Grandma,” he said slowly, showing Teresa the photograph, “where did my mother’s ring go after her funeral?”
Teresa looked at the screen.
Her face lost its remaining color.
“Your father kept it,” she whispered.
“Where?”
“In the locked drawer of his desk.”
Luca turned toward Natalie.
“Stay with my grandmother. Nobody enters this room except her doctor or Marcus.”
Then he went directly to his father's study.
The room smelled of old books and cedarwood.
Carlo's desk stood beneath the tall windows overlooking Newport Harbor.
Everything appeared untouched.
Except the bottom drawer.
The lock had been opened.
Inside, the velvet box that once held his mother's sapphire ring was empty.
Beside it lay a folded receipt.
Luca unfolded the paper.
It came from a private storage facility in Providence.
The receipt was dated the afternoon of Carlo's funeral.
One line had been circled in red.
AUTHORIZED ACCESS: MARGARET BELLINI.
May you like
And beneath it, written in his father's unmistakable handwriting, were six words:
LUCA MUST NEVER SEE THE CHILD.
