Chapter 3 - THE PHOTOGRAPH NOBODY WAS SUPPOSED TO SEE
"That picture was supposed to have been destroyed."
Seraphina Belucci's words hung over the dinner table.
Lorenzo looked from his mother to Isabella.
"Why?"
Neither woman answered.
He picked up the photograph again.
Anna Carter stood outside a hospital, exhausted but smiling, with a newborn bundled against her chest.
She looked younger than she did now, although her eyes carried the same quiet sadness.
Margaret Ellis stood beside her.
And Seraphina held the baby's tiny hand.
"Mother, why were you at the hospital when Sophie's birth was recorded?"
Seraphina clasped her hands together.
"Because Anna needed someone."
"Anna told me she was alone when Sophie was born."
"She believed she was."
Lorenzo stared at her.
"What does that mean?"
Isabella pushed back her chair.
"Tell him about Michael Carter."
Seraphina's face drained of color.
"Isabella, you have no right."
"Neither did you."
Lorenzo stood.
"Enough. Both of you."
He held up the photograph.
"I want the truth, and I want it before another person in this house gets hurt."
Seraphina rose slowly.
"Michael Carter knew your father."
Lorenzo shook his head.
"Anna's husband was a Marine. He died in Iraq."
"Yes."
"What could he possibly have had to do with my father?"
"He worked for him before he enlisted."
Lorenzo felt the first unpleasant shift beneath his feet.
His father had employed hundreds of men over the years. Some worked on the family properties. Others handled businesses Lorenzo had inherited without ever fully understanding their histories.
"What kind of work?"
Seraphina looked at Isabella.
"Security records."
Isabella said nothing.
"Michael discovered money being taken from a veterans' charity your father helped establish," Seraphina continued. "He believed somebody was using the charity's accounts to move money through legitimate construction projects."
"Who?"
"He never proved it."
"Did he tell my father?"
"Yes."
"And?"
"Your father promised to investigate. Before he could finish, Michael enlisted."
Lorenzo looked down at the photograph.
"Why didn't you tell Anna?"
"Because Michael asked us not to frighten her with something he couldn't prove."
"And after he died?"
Seraphina's eyes filled.
"I thought the matter had ended."
Isabella gave a bitter laugh.
"That's what everyone in this family says when something becomes inconvenient."
Lorenzo turned on her.
"You brought this photograph into my house. You knew what it meant. Tell me why."
Isabella picked up her handbag.
"Because someone has been using Michael Carter's name to make threats."
"Who?"
She looked toward Seraphina.
"Ask your mother who paid Margaret to keep the old records hidden."
Then she walked out.
Anna was preparing Sophie's bath when Lorenzo found her.
The little girl sat on the bathroom rug, arranging colored pencils from shortest to longest.
Anna looked up from the folded towels.
"Mr. Belucci?"
"I need to ask you something about Michael."
She immediately noticed his expression.
"Is Sophie in trouble?"
"No. She's done nothing wrong."
He glanced toward the child.
"Could we speak downstairs?"
Anna told Sophie to stay with Rosa for a few minutes.
Sophie looked at Lorenzo.
"Is it about the pearls?"
"Partly."
"Did you fix the bad one?"
"Yes."
The little girl appeared relieved.
"Good. Mommy likes pretty things, but she doesn't like scary things."
Lorenzo swallowed.
"Neither do I."
Downstairs, he showed Anna the photograph.
She took it with both hands.
"Where did you get this?"
"Isabella."
Anna studied the picture.
"I've never seen it."
"Do you remember Margaret Ellis?"
Anna nodded.
"She was a volunteer at the hospital. She helped me with Sophie after the delivery."
"And my mother?"
Anna touched the photograph.
"I didn't know she was there."
For a moment, Lorenzo believed she was hiding something.
Then her face changed.
"Wait."
She moved closer to the lamp.
"The yellow blanket."
"What about it?"
Anna stared.
"I made that blanket while Michael was overseas. I embroidered his initials in one corner."
She pointed to the photograph.
"That isn't the blanket I brought to the hospital."
Lorenzo leaned closer.
The baby was wrapped in pale yellow wool.
On the exposed corner was a small stitched sunflower.
"Are you sure?"
"Absolutely."
Anna sat down.
"Michael hated sunflowers. He said they looked like flowers that were always trying too hard to be happy."
Her smile disappeared.
"I remember being upset because the hospital misplaced my blanket. A nurse told me someone had donated a replacement."
Lorenzo remembered Sophie's drawing.
The enormous sunflower between three figures.
"Did Sophie ever see this blanket?"
"She still sleeps with it."
The blanket was folded at the foot of Sophie's bed.
It was soft and worn, with one corner repaired using slightly darker thread.
Anna lifted it.
"She's had it all her life."
Lorenzo noticed the sunflower embroidered near the edge.
The petals were uneven.
The stitching looked handmade.
Anna ran her thumb across the design.
"Margaret gave it to me when we left the hospital."
"May I borrow it?"
Anna hesitated.
"It's one of the few things Sophie has from when she was born."
"I promise to return it."
Before she could answer, Sophie appeared in the doorway wearing pajamas.
"Why does Mr. Lorenzo want my blanket?"
Anna knelt beside her.
"He needs to look at something, sweetheart."
Sophie considered this.
Then she carried the blanket over herself.
"You can have it until bedtime."
"Thank you."
"But don't wash it."
Lorenzo almost smiled.
"Why not?"
"It smells like home."
He folded the blanket carefully.
"I'll keep it safe."
Matteo Rizzo examined the blanket in Lorenzo's study.
He had returned the jewelry box after confirming that the altered pearl was completely inert.
When Lorenzo explained the photograph, Matteo became thoughtful.
"Your father used to have a woman repair his suits," he said.
"What woman?"
"Margaret Ellis. Before she opened the clock shop, she did fine needlework."
Lorenzo looked at the sunflower.
"Could she have made this?"
"Possibly."
Matteo touched the repaired corner.
"This stitching is newer than the rest."
He gently opened a loose fold in the seam.
Inside was a narrow strip of faded fabric.
Four letters had been embroidered in dark green thread.
V.H.R.F.
Lorenzo frowned.
"What is that?"
Matteo's expression changed.
"The Veterans Home Restoration Fund."
"My father's charity?"
"Yes."
Matteo looked toward the study door.
"And Michael Carter was the man who insisted that charity needed an independent audit."
Lorenzo leaned against his desk.
"Why would someone hide the initials inside a baby's blanket?"
Matteo examined the thread.
"Because this was probably made from something else."
He turned the blanket over.
Along the inside edge, beneath the newer lining, ran a row of tiny black numbers.
They resembled inventory codes.
Lorenzo felt cold.
"Can you read them?"
"Most of them."
Matteo copied them onto paper.
Then he stopped.
"What?"
"These aren't clothing numbers."
"What are they?"
"Storage references. Your father's private archive used exactly this numbering system."
Lorenzo looked at the yellow blanket.
The child had slept beneath it for years.
Someone had stitched a trail into its lining and trusted nobody to notice.
"Where was the archive?"
"Some of it was moved after your father's death. Daniel supervised the transfer."
Lorenzo looked up.
"Daniel?"
"Your security captain."
"He's been with the family twelve years."
"That's right."
Lorenzo remembered that Daniel's team had been specifically excluded from Isabella's surveillance.
For the first time, he was grateful he had made that decision.
At 10:15 that evening, Isabella stood alone in the gallery outside the ballroom.
Seraphina approached carrying the silver rosary.
"You went too far tonight," she said.
Isabella turned.
"No. I went as far as I could."
"You promised me Anna would never be involved."
"I didn't involve her."
"Her photograph was on my son's dinner table."
"Because somebody made sure Lorenzo would discover the necklace."
Seraphina gripped her rosary.
"What are you saying?"
Isabella looked directly at her.
"Margaret says the people who stole the charity money know Michael Carter left something behind."
"That's impossible."
"They believe Anna has it."
Seraphina shook her head.
"She doesn't even know what happened."
"That won't matter."
Downstairs, a door closed.
Both women fell silent.
Isabella stepped closer.
"Margaret gave me something today."
She opened her handbag and removed a small brass key attached to a broken watch chain.
Seraphina stared at it.
"Where did you find that?"
"Inside the envelope."
Seraphina reached for the key, but Isabella pulled away.
"Margaret said your husband gave it to her the week before he died."
"Then it belongs to Lorenzo."
"Not yet."
"Why?"
"Because the last person who tried to use it disappeared from Philadelphia."
Seraphina's hand flew to her mouth.
Isabella lowered her voice.
"And because the name on the storage receipt isn't Michael Carter."
"Whose is it?"
Isabella held up the receipt.
Across the top, in faded blue ink, were three words.
Property of Anna Carter.
May you like
And beneath them, written by hand:
Do not release until the Belucci heir is ready to learn who betrayed his father.
