Chapter 4 - THE MAN WHO WORE ANOTHER NAME
“Don't touch him until we know who he is.”
Matteo's order stopped Marco from approaching the young man outside Rosebridge Recovery Residence.
Daniel Mercer stood near a black sedan, helping an elderly patient into the passenger seat.
He wore a gray sweater, dark trousers, and the calm expression of someone accustomed to difficult people.
From across the street, Matteo watched him closely.
The ear.
The posture.
The way he tilted his head while listening.
Anthony had done that as a boy.
But fifteen years could change a person beyond recognition.
Marco lowered the binoculars.
“He's listed as Rosebridge's operations manager.”
“Who owns the building?”
“A nonprofit controlled by Whitmore Family Holdings.”
Matteo's jaw tightened.
Richard hadn't merely concealed Daniel.
He had placed him inside an organization his family controlled.
“Does he know who Richard is?”
“According to public records, Daniel has been associated with the Whitmores since he was eighteen.”
Matteo watched the young man close the car door.
“Then we need to find out why.”
They entered the building without security personnel.
Rosebridge was small and tastefully furnished.
Warm lamps lit the reception area.
Family photographs lined the walls.
Nothing suggested a place where frightened elderly people were hidden.
A receptionist greeted them.
“Can I help you?”
“I'm looking for Isabella Bellini,” Matteo said.
The woman glanced at her computer.
“She's not currently available for visitors.”
“I'm her son.”
The receptionist's smile faltered.
“Mr. Bellini?”
“Yes.”
She reached for the telephone.
Matteo placed his hand on the desk.
“Before you call anyone, please understand that my mother was moved here without my authorization.”
The woman looked alarmed.
“I wasn't aware of that.”
“Neither was I.”
A familiar voice interrupted.
“Then perhaps you should speak to me.”
Daniel Mercer stood near the hallway.
Up close, the resemblance was worse.
His eyes were the same deep brown as Matteo's father.
His mouth moved exactly like Anthony's when he was trying not to smile.
But his expression held no recognition.
“Daniel Mercer,” he introduced himself.
“Matteo Bellini.”
Daniel's shoulders stiffened.
“I know who you are.”
Matteo stepped forward.
“Do you?”
Daniel looked toward the receptionist.
“Please give us a moment.”
He led Matteo and Marco into a small office.
Once the door closed, his friendliness disappeared.
“You shouldn't be here.”
“I'm looking for my mother.”
“She's safe.”
“Then let me see her.”
Daniel shook his head.
“Not until I've spoken with her physician.”
Matteo studied him.
“How long have you known Isabella?”
Daniel paused.
“Several years.”
“Has she ever called you Anthony?”
The young man's face changed.
Not surprise.
Pain.
“Don't use that name.”
Matteo felt his throat tighten.
“Why?”
“Because it isn't mine.”
“You're certain?”
Daniel looked directly at him.
“My name is Daniel Mercer.”
Matteo reached into his jacket.
He placed the silver pocket watch on the desk.
Daniel stared at it.
His face drained of color.
“Where did you get that?”
“It belonged to my father.”
Daniel stepped backward.
“No.”
“Anthony—”
“I told you not to call me that.”
Matteo opened the watch.
The photograph of two boys appeared beneath the glass.
Daniel looked away.
“I don't remember those people.”
“Then why are you shaking?”
Daniel didn't answer.
Matteo lowered his voice.
“You fell off a bicycle when you were eight. You cut your left ear. I carried you into the kitchen because you were afraid Dad would be angry.”
Daniel's eyes filled.
He gripped the edge of the desk.
“Stop.”
“Dad wasn't angry. He bought you a new helmet.”
“Stop!”
The word came out louder than Daniel intended.
He turned toward the window.
For several seconds, nobody moved.
Then Daniel whispered, “I remember a bicycle.”
Matteo stepped closer.
“Do you remember me?”
Daniel shook his head.
“Not clearly.”
“What do you remember?”
“A garden. A fountain. Someone calling me Tony.”
Matteo swallowed.
Only family members had called Anthony that.
Daniel pressed his palm against his forehead.
“Richard told me those memories were from before the accident.”
“What accident?”
“A car crash when I was eleven. I was injured. I lost parts of my memory.”
Matteo stared at him.
“Richard told you that?”
“He said my parents died. He became my guardian.”
Matteo felt fury rising.
“Your family didn't die.”
Daniel turned.
“You don't know what happened to me.”
“Neither do you.”
The young man flinched.
Matteo regretted the words immediately.
He took a breath.
“I'm sorry. That wasn't fair.”
Daniel looked at the watch again.
“What do you want from me?”
“The truth.”
“And if I don't want what you think is the truth?”
Matteo considered his answer.
“Then I'll respect that. But I won't let Richard decide what either of us is allowed to know.”
Daniel sat slowly.
After a long silence, he opened a drawer.
Inside was a small blue notebook.
“I've been writing things down,” he admitted. “Memories that don't make sense.”
He opened it.
There were sketches of a marble staircase, a fountain, and a large dog.
Matteo recognized the dog.
Bruno.
A golden retriever Anthony had loved.
Daniel turned another page.
It showed a woman standing beneath a flowering tree.
“She used to sing to me.”
“Who?”
“I don't know.”
Matteo studied the drawing.
The woman's face was unfinished.
But she wore a small round pendant.
Evelyn had described Laura wearing a similar necklace.
“Did Richard ever tell you about Laura Mitchell?”
Daniel's expression hardened.
“He said she was dangerous.”
Matteo froze.
“Why?”
“She tried to take me away when I was sixteen.”
“Where is she now?”
“I don't know. Richard said she left the state.”
Matteo felt sick.
Laura had tried to recover her son.
And Richard had persuaded Anthony that his own mother was a threat.
Before he could ask another question, Daniel closed the notebook.
“There's something you need to understand.”
“What?”
“Mrs. Bellini was brought here because she requested protection.”
“Protection from whom?”
Daniel hesitated.
“From her son's fiancée.”
Matteo stared.
“Camille?”
Daniel nodded.
“She said Camille was threatening to have her declared mentally incompetent unless she signed a statement.”
“What statement?”
“That Anthony died fifteen years ago.”
Matteo's pulse quickened.
“Did my mother sign?”
“No.”
“Where is she?”
Daniel looked toward the hallway.
“She left yesterday.”
Matteo stood.
“With whom?”
Daniel hesitated.
“Someone she trusted.”
“Daniel, who?”
The young man opened another drawer.
He removed a small photograph.
It showed Isabella Bellini sitting beside an older woman in a brown coat.
The woman's hair was gray.
Her face was thinner than in the employee photograph.
But Matteo recognized her.
Laura Mitchell.
Daniel placed the photograph on the desk.
“I took this two days ago.”
Matteo stared at the woman who had supposedly disappeared fifteen years earlier.
May you like
Daniel spoke quietly.
“Laura Mitchell is alive. And your mother left with her.”
