Chapter 6 - THE PHOTOGRAPH THAT BROKE A BILLIONAIRE
Dominic stared at the photograph as though it had reached inside his chest and stopped his heart.
“That's a lie.”
His voice was barely audible.
Detective Rachel Torres took one look at his face and stepped closer.
“Mr. Rinaldi, what does that message mean?”
Dominic didn't answer.
He turned the photograph over.
His mother lay in a hospital bed, surrounded by equipment.
Her dark hair was spread across the pillow.
A thin gold bracelet rested against her wrist.
Three red stones.
The same bracelet Samuel Voss had apparently been using to manipulate Celeste.
I looked toward the second-floor window.
My mother and brother had disappeared from view.
Every instinct told me to run inside.
But Dominic was standing beside me, looking as frightened as Eli had looked behind that glass.
“What happened to your mother?” I asked.
He swallowed.
“I signed something.”
Detective Torres looked up.
“What?”
Dominic kept staring at the photograph.
“I was sixteen. She'd been in the hospital for two days after the fire. My father told me she couldn't recover.”
His voice cracked.
“He said the doctors needed family authorization to stop treatment.”
My stomach tightened.
“Did you sign it?”
Dominic nodded.
“I didn't want to. I begged him to wait.”
He rubbed his forehead.
“But he told me she was suffering. He said keeping her alive would be cruel.”
For a long moment, the only sound was traffic moving along the street.
“I believed him,” Dominic whispered.
I looked again at the photograph.
It wasn't the image of a woman peacefully dying.
There was no way to know her condition from a single picture.
But something about it bothered me.
The bracelet was too visible.
The photograph seemed almost carefully arranged.
“Did you ever see the actual medical records?” I asked.
Dominic shook his head.
“My father handled everything.”
“Then you don't know what you signed.”
He looked at me.
“I remember the signature.”
“I'm not asking whether you signed something. I'm asking whether anyone told you the truth about what was on the paper.”
He didn't answer.
Detective Torres studied the photograph.
“This could have been placed in your coat to destabilize you. We need to establish when it was taken and whether the writing is authentic.”
Dominic looked toward the building.
“Samuel wants me to believe I killed my own mother.”
“And he wants you distracted,” Torres replied.
She raised her radio.
“Keep eyes on the east entrance. No one moves without authorization.”
A uniformed officer approached.
“Detective, we found the building's property manager.”
Torres turned.
The man was in his sixties, wearing a brown work jacket and carrying a ring of keys.
“Mr. Alvarez,” Torres said, “we need to know whether anyone is using the upstairs offices.”
He nodded.
“A company rented the second floor last month. Paid six months in advance.”
“What company?”
“Voss Heritage Consultants.”
Dominic gave a humorless laugh.
“Of course.”
Mr. Alvarez hesitated.
“There's something else.”
We all looked at him.
“The back loading entrance was opened this afternoon. They brought in medical equipment.”
My heart dropped.
“What kind?”
“Portable monitors. Oxygen tanks. Things like that.”
I turned toward Dominic.
“Why would Samuel need medical equipment?”
Before he could answer, a light flashed behind the second-floor window.
Once.
Twice.
Three times.
Then darkness.
Detective Torres immediately spoke into her radio.
“Possible distress signal. Prepare entry.”
But Dominic caught her attention.
“Wait.”
His eyes were fixed on the window.
“That's not random.”
“What do you mean?”
“My mother used to signal me with three flashes from the upstairs window when dinner was ready.”
I stared at him.
“Three flashes?”
He nodded.
“If I was outside playing, she'd turn the hallway light on and off three times.”
My mother had done something similar when Eli and I were children.
Not with lights.
With knocks.
Three gentle taps against our bedroom wall.
It meant she was home.
I felt suddenly cold.
“Dominic, Samuel knows your childhood stories.”
He looked at me.
“Exactly.”
The light flashed again.
Three times.
Then twice.
Dominic frowned.
“That's different.”
“Different how?”
“My mother used three flashes to call me home. Two meant don't come upstairs because she was working.”
He looked toward the building.
“Someone is warning us.”
Detective Torres spoke into her radio.
Her officers repositioned.
Then the building's side entrance opened.
Victor Hale stepped outside.
His hands were raised.
He walked slowly toward the street.
“I'm unarmed,” he called.
Torres motioned for him to stop.
He obeyed.
Two officers approached and searched him.
Victor's expression was gray with exhaustion.
When he saw me, he looked away.
I felt anger burn through my fear.
“You threatened me.”
He nodded.
“Yes.”
“While my mother and brother were being held?”
“Yes.”
I stepped closer.
“Why?”
His mouth tightened.
“Because Samuel told me he'd hurt my daughter if I didn't follow orders.”
I remembered the graduation photograph in Victor's office.
The smiling young woman in a blue gown.
“Your daughter?” I repeated.
“She works at a children's hospital in Boston. Samuel knows where she lives.”
Detective Torres interrupted.
“Mr. Hale, we'll address that. Right now, tell me what's happening upstairs.”
Victor looked toward the building.
“Samuel is preparing a transfer.”
“Of what?”
“The Bellmont Trust.”
Dominic stepped forward.
“The agreement isn't valid.”
“Samuel doesn't care.”
Victor looked directly at me.
“He needs Elena to authenticate the document, and he needs Mara to accept the beneficiary designation.”
“Why?” I demanded.
“Because the forged amendment requires both signatures before its death-trigger provision can be registered.”
I shook my head.
“Then why try to poison Dominic?”
Victor looked at him.
“Because Samuel needed a death to activate the emergency provisions.”
Dominic's face hardened.
“Mine?”
Victor nodded.
“Samuel arranged for Andrew Mercer to certify a transfer of control after your death. Elena was supposed to confirm the Italian annotation as authentic.”
I remembered my mother handing Victor the small bottle.
“Did she give you poison?”
His expression changed.
“No.”
“Then what was it?”
“Sterile saline. She switched the bottle Samuel gave her.”
My knees nearly gave way.
My mother had been trying to protect Dominic.
Even while Samuel held Eli.
“But the glass was poisoned,” I whispered.
Victor nodded.
“Samuel didn't trust her. He prepared another dose.”
The silver watch.
The man behind the sommelier.
I had seen the real attack.
Detective Torres asked the question that mattered most.
“Where are Elena and Eli now?”
Victor hesitated.
Then he looked toward Dominic.
“Upstairs. Elena refused to sign.”
Relief flooded through me.
For one second, I thought we could end this.
Then Victor said something worse.
“Samuel has a portable medical monitor attached to Elena. He's using her heart condition to frighten her.”
I turned toward him.
“My mother doesn't have a heart condition.”
Victor closed his eyes.
“She does now.”
I stepped back.
“What did he do?”
“I don't know what she was given. She became weak about twenty minutes ago.”
Detective Torres immediately ordered her officers to prepare for a medical emergency.
But Victor wasn't finished.
“He also told Elena that if Mara doesn't sign before midnight, he'll release evidence claiming Dominic ordered Isabella's death.”
Dominic looked at the photograph again.
“Evidence?”
Victor nodded.
“A medical authorization with your signature.”
Dominic's face went blank.
Victor reached into his pocket, then stopped when the officers stiffened.
“I have something for you,” he said.
Torres removed a small folded paper from his jacket.
It was a note written in my mother's handwriting.
She had apparently slipped it to Victor before he came downstairs.
I unfolded it.
Mara, don't surrender the cross. The truth is not in the agreement. It's in what Isabella left behind.
Beneath the message was a short sequence of numbers.
3 — 2 — 1 — 4
Dominic stared at them.
Then he whispered, “The watch.”
I looked up.
“What watch?”
He touched the inside of his wrist.
“My mother gave me her father's pocket watch when I turned sixteen. It stopped working the night she died.”
“Where is it now?”
“In my office.”
Nina looked at him.
“Your executive office?”
He nodded.
“The watch is inside the locked display cabinet behind my desk.”
Before anyone could speak, Victor shook his head.
“It's not there anymore.”
Dominic turned.
“What?”
Victor's eyes filled with regret.
“Samuel took it three days ago.”
I stared at the note.
Three. Two. One. Four.
The numbers were clearly important.
And my mother had risked her life to get them to us.
Then Nina suddenly looked up from her tablet.
“Dominic, there's a security recording from your office.”
She turned the screen toward us.
It showed Samuel removing the pocket watch from its display case.
But he wasn't alone.
Standing beside him was Andrew Mercer.
And Andrew was holding a small black velvet box.
Nina enlarged the image.
The box contained a gold wedding ring.
Inside the band was an inscription.
TO ELENA, FOREVER — L.R.
Dominic stared.
“L.R.,” he whispered.
Then he looked at Teresa.
“My father's initials.”
Teresa began shaking her head.
“No, Dominic.”
“Then whose?”
Her eyes filled with tears.
“Your uncle Luca's.”
Dominic looked back at the ring.
May you like
And Teresa finally said the words she'd been avoiding all night.
“Luca Rinaldi was Mara's father.”
