Chapter 4 - THE WOMAN IN THE SECOND CAR
Dominic's face drained of color.
“My mother died when I was eleven.”
Arthur Bennett bowed his head.
“Eleanor Moretti died when you were eleven. She loved you more than her own life. But she wasn't the woman who gave birth to you.”
Nobody spoke.
I could hear the clock above the library mantel ticking.
Dominic stared at Arthur.
“You watched me bury her.”
“Yes.”
“You stood beside me while I cried.”
“Yes, son.”
“And you never thought to tell me she wasn't my mother?”
Arthur lifted his scarred hands.
“Because being your mother had nothing to do with whose blood you carried.”
Dominic looked away.
His eyes were wet.
That answer hurt because it was true.
Eleanor Moretti had been the center of his childhood.
She had taught him to read, sat beside his hospital bed when he had pneumonia, and made him promise never to let the family business turn him into a cruel man.
Whether she had given birth to him didn't erase any of that.
But it did raise a terrible question.
“Who was the other woman?”
Arthur glanced at the storage receipt.
“Her name was Katherine Vale.”
Dominic repeated it softly.
“Katherine Vale.”
“She worked as an architectural consultant for your father's waterfront projects. She was intelligent, stubborn, and determined to stop the city from selling public shoreline access to private investors.”
“And she was my biological mother?”
Arthur nodded.
“Your father met her before he married Eleanor. They had a brief relationship. When Katherine became pregnant, she wanted to raise you herself.”
“What happened?”
“Charles Hartwell happened.”
Andrew made an angry sound.
“Don't drag my father into every tragedy this family ever suffered.”
Arthur turned.
“Your father controlled financing for a company that wanted the waterfront property. Katherine discovered payments to city inspectors. She threatened to expose them.”
Dominic frowned.
“What does that have to do with me?”
“She was pressured into leaving Boston. Charles threatened to ruin her professionally and expose private information about her relationship with your father. Katherine was frightened. She and your father arranged for you to live with him and Eleanor while she found a safer place to start over.”
Dominic shook his head.
“Why didn't she come back?”
“She tried.”
Arthur's voice became thin.
“Eleanor welcomed her. But Katherine believed that seeing you occasionally was better than putting you in danger.”
Dominic stared at the floor.
He was discovering that the people he loved had spent his childhood protecting him from a danger he hadn't understood.
And every answer seemed to open another wound.
“Was Katherine at the garage fire?”
Arthur nodded.
“She was supposed to meet your father there. She had obtained records showing Charles had paid inspectors to overlook serious contamination on land near the waterfront.”
Dominic looked at the storage receipt.
“The second car belonged to her.”
“Yes.”
“Where did she go?”
Arthur hesitated.
“I don't know.”
Dominic looked up sharply.
“What do you mean?”
“She disappeared after the fire. Your father searched for months. Then a letter arrived telling him to stop.”
“From Katherine?”
“I never saw the letter.”
Andrew suddenly spoke.
“Maybe she didn't want anything to do with you.”
Dominic turned slowly.
“Be careful.”
Andrew fell silent.
Marco had remained near the doorway.
Now he stepped forward.
“Mr. Moretti, I have someone who can verify part of Arthur's story.”
Dominic frowned.
“Who?”
“Mrs. Rosa Alvarez. She worked as a housekeeper here for thirty years. She retired seven years ago.”
I knew Rosa.
She still sent Arthur birthday cards and occasionally visited the mansion.
“She's at home,” Marco continued. “I spoke with her earlier about the garage photograph. She remembers Katherine Vale.”
Dominic picked up the pocket watch.
“Then we'll speak to her tomorrow.”
“No,” Arthur said.
Everyone looked at him.
The old man struggled to stand.
“Not tomorrow. Tonight.”
“Arthur, you can barely stand.”
“I've waited twenty years to tell you this. I won't ask you to wait another night.”
Dominic studied him.
Then he nodded.
But first he turned toward Andrew.
“You'll remain in the guest suite until my independent attorney and the police can arrange interviews. You can call your own lawyer. Marco won't allow you into any office or study.”
Andrew laughed bitterly.
“You think you can keep me here?”
“No. You're free to leave. But every vehicle leaving this property is recorded, and every document you've handled is being preserved.”
Andrew looked at Vivian.
“Tell him he's making a mistake.”
Vivian didn't move.
“Andrew, you knew our father stole money from the foundation.”
Andrew stared.
“What?”
“You knew,” she repeated. “And you let me believe I was responsible for fixing it.”
He turned away.
That was answer enough.
An hour later, we were sitting in Rosa Alvarez's modest home outside Boston.
She opened the door wearing a gray cardigan and slippers.
The moment she saw Arthur, she embraced him.
“Oh, Arthur. You look tired.”
He gave a weak smile.
“I've had a difficult evening.”
Rosa noticed Dominic.
Her expression softened.
“Mr. Dominic.”
“Please, Rosa. You helped raise me. You can call me Dominic.”
She touched his cheek.
“You have your mother's eyes.”
Dominic swallowed.
“Which mother?”
Rosa went still.
Arthur nodded.
“He knows.”
She invited us inside.
Her living room smelled of coffee and cinnamon.
Family photographs covered the mantel.
Dominic sat across from her and asked the question he'd carried since leaving the mansion.
“Did Katherine Vale abandon me?”
Rosa's eyes filled with tears.
“No, sweetheart.”
The word almost broke him.
“She loved you. She used to stand outside the school fence just to watch you play.”
Dominic pressed his fingers together.
“Why didn't anyone tell me?”
“Because she was trying to protect you. And because your father thought the danger would eventually pass.”
Rosa stood and opened a drawer.
Inside was a small wooden box.
She removed a child's drawing.
A blue house.
A yellow sun.
Three stick figures.
At the bottom, written in uneven letters, were the words:
FOR KATIE.
Dominic stared.
“I drew that.”
Rosa nodded.
“You were six. Katherine came to visit. Eleanor introduced her as a friend.”
Dominic remembered a woman with dark hair who had brought him a wooden chess set.
He remembered her smiling when he called her Katie.
Then he remembered something else.
“She cried when she left.”
Rosa nodded.
“She did.”
Dominic's eyes filled.
Rosa removed another object.
A train ticket.
Boston to Portland, Maine.
Dated four days after the garage fire.
“Katherine gave me this before she disappeared,” Rosa said. “She told me that if your father stopped looking for her, I should keep it.”
Dominic frowned.
“Why?”
“She wanted someone to know where she'd been sent.”
“Sent by whom?”
Rosa looked toward Arthur.
“Charles Hartwell.”
Dominic leaned forward.
“Was she alive when she boarded that train?”
Rosa's voice shook.
“Yes. I watched her leave.”
Then she reached beneath the lining of the wooden box.
There was a folded postcard.
A lighthouse stood on the front.
On the back, in faded blue ink, someone had written:
ROSA, I HAVE NOT FORGOTTEN MY SON. BUT IF CHARLES FINDS ME, HE WILL TAKE AWAY THE LAST THING I HAVE LEFT.
Dominic turned the postcard over.
There was no return address.
Only a date.
May you like
Six months earlier.
Katherine Vale had been alive six months ago.
