Chapter 4 - THE BRIDE WHO KNEW TOO MUCH
“She didn't go willingly.”
Alexander said the words before anyone else could speak.
He knew Emily.
Not as well as he should have.
But he remembered the woman who once walked out of a restaurant because the owner was humiliating an elderly dishwasher.
Emily had refused to accept anyone's cruelty simply because they were powerful.
She would never willingly help Vincent Ferraro destroy innocent people.
Nicholas replayed the gallery footage.
“She signed something. We can't ignore that.”
“Then find out why.”
Investigator Ortiz examined the document more closely.
“The departure form isn't the important part. Look at the second signature.”
A man's initials appeared beside Emily's name.
V.C.
Vanessa Carter.
Alexander's former bride.
He turned toward Nicholas.
“Bring Vanessa here.”
Vanessa was sitting in a private hotel suite when Alexander arrived.
Her elaborate wedding gown had been exchanged for a plain cream dress.
The enormous diamond necklace was gone.
Without it, she looked younger.
And frightened.
“Alexander,” she whispered.
“Where is Emily Parker?”
Vanessa went pale.
“I don't know.”
“Then explain why your initials are on the document allowing her to leave the country.”
Vanessa closed her eyes.
“I signed those forms weeks ago.”
“For what purpose?”
“I thought they were authorizations for temporary foundation employees.”
“Emily isn't your employee.”
“She worked on our accounts before she disappeared.”
Alexander approached the window.
Below them, the streets were filled with police vehicles and curious reporters.
“You knew there was a bomb at our wedding.”
Vanessa began crying.
“I knew something terrible might happen.”
“Hundreds of people could have died.”
“I know.”
“You could have warned me.”
Vanessa looked up.
“And what would you have done? Sent your men after Ferraro? Started shooting? My brother would have been dead before midnight.”
Alexander stopped.
“Your brother?”
“Evan.”
Evan Carter was twenty-seven.
Unlike Vanessa, he had refused to take a position in the family businesses.
He worked with nonprofit organizations and had recently begun questioning his father's financial activities.
Four days earlier, he had disappeared.
Vanessa had been told he was being held until the wedding was completed.
“Ferraro promised that if I stood beside you and followed every instruction, Evan would come home.”
Alexander stared at her.
“So you chose my life over his.”
Vanessa's tears fell silently.
“I chose the person I thought I could still save.”
The answer was painful.
But it wasn't entirely dishonest.
“Did you know the necklace contained explosives?”
“Not when they first gave it to me.”
“When did you find out?”
Vanessa hesitated.
“During the ceremony preparations. I saw a small red light beneath the setting. They told me it was a tracking device and that removing the necklace would put Evan in danger.”
“You suspected?”
“Yes.”
“And you still wore it.”
She nodded.
Alexander looked away.
He could understand loving a brother.
He could not forgive risking hundreds of lives to save him.
“Rosie tried to warn us,” he said.
Vanessa covered her face.
“I know.”
“She's eighteen months old, Vanessa.”
The room fell silent.
Finally, Vanessa opened the drawer beside her bed.
Inside was a small velvet jewelry box.
“They delivered the necklace in this.”
Alexander examined it.
A gold manufacturer's stamp appeared inside the lid.
But beneath the velvet lining was a second mark.
A handwritten inventory number.
B17-042.
Nicholas entered the room just as Alexander showed Ortiz the number.
Ortiz's expression changed.
“Berth Seventeen.”
Vanessa nodded.
“Ferraro uses a private shipping facility there. I saw the same number on a photograph they sent me of Evan.”
“Why didn't you tell anyone?”
“Because I thought everyone around Alexander was working for him.”
The words were directed at Nicholas.
He didn't respond.
Ortiz took Vanessa's statement and arranged federal protection for her.
For the first time, Vanessa agreed to testify against the people who had threatened her family.
But Alexander wasn't finished.
“Who encouraged our marriage?”
Vanessa looked confused.
“You know who.”
“Say his name.”
“Salvatore.”
“And who arranged the necklace?”
Vanessa's face changed.
“My father said Salvatore's office handled the wedding gifts.”
Nicholas looked toward Alexander.
The same man.
Again.
But Alexander wasn't ready to accuse his uncle without proof.
Not yet.
Then Ortiz received a report from the shipping facility.
A freight manifest had been recovered.
Most entries listed ordinary cargo.
Furniture.
Medical supplies.
Art restoration materials.
But one line had been entered separately, with a departure scheduled for 5:30 the following morning.
E. PARKER — SPECIAL TRANSFER — NO RETURN TRANSPORT.
Alexander folded the paper.
“We're going to Berth Seventeen.”
Ortiz shook her head.
“Not until we've secured a warrant and confirmed the location.”
Before Alexander could argue, Nicholas's independent security contact sent him a photograph.
It showed a man standing outside the Brooklyn apartment where Margaret had taken Rosie.
The man held a printed photograph of the little girl.
Taken that very morning.
May you like
Nicholas turned the screen toward Alexander.
“Someone knows where your daughter is.”
