Chapter 5 - THE MAID WHO KNEW MY WIFE BEFORE SHE DIED
"Giulia, were you hired to spy on my family?"
She stood opposite my desk with her daughter asleep in the staff apartment upstairs.
Her face was pale.
But she didn't lower her eyes.
"No, Mr. Moretti."
I placed the photograph between us.
"Then explain why you were standing beside my wife six days before she died."
Giulia looked down.
Her lips parted.
For a moment, I thought she might faint.
"Where did you get this?"
"Chiara kept it."
She reached toward the photograph, then stopped.
"She promised she'd destroy it."
"Why?"
Giulia swallowed.
"Because I was the one who gave her the medication records."
I stared at her.
She continued before I could speak.
"Eight years ago, I worked as a medical assistant at Dr. Price's clinic. I was twenty-one."
I remembered she had told our employment manager about her medical background.
I hadn't paid attention.
"Chiara came in one afternoon," Giulia said. "She believed someone had changed her prescription."
"What did you find?"
Giulia folded her hands.
"Her chart showed two different prescriptions entered on the same day. One was the medication she'd been taking for years. The other was a drug she had never been prescribed before."
"Who entered the second prescription?"
"Someone using Dr. Price's credentials."
"Richard Hale?"
"I didn't know who it was then."
I leaned forward.
"Did the medication hurt her?"
Giulia shook her head.
"I don't know. I'm not a physician, and I never saw the full medical investigation."
Her honesty surprised me.
Most people around me tried to give answers they thought I wanted.
Giulia refused to pretend she knew more than she did.
"Why didn't you come forward after Chiara died?"
Her eyes filled.
"I tried."
She reached into her cardigan pocket.
Inside was an old employee identification card.
The photograph showed her younger face.
The clinic name had faded.
"I brought the records to a detective. Three days later, I lost my job."
"Who fired you?"
"Dr. Price."
"And the detective?"
"He told me there was no evidence of a crime."
I looked at the photograph again.
"Why did you come to work here?"
Giulia hesitated.
"Because Chiara helped me once."
"How?"
"My mother needed surgery. We had no insurance. Chiara arranged financial assistance through the foundation."
My chest tightened.
"She never told me."
"She said kindness didn't need an audience."
That sounded exactly like my wife.
Giulia wiped her cheek.
"After she died, I couldn't stop wondering whether I should have done more. Years later, when I saw the housekeeping position advertised, I applied."
"To investigate?"
"At first, I wanted to understand what happened. But then I needed the job. I had Mia, and her father wasn't helping us. I needed a place where we could live safely."
I looked at her.
"Why didn't you tell me?"
"Would you have believed me?"
I opened my mouth.
Then closed it.
Eight years ago, I had refused to listen when Lorenzo questioned Carlo.
I had dismissed concerns about our foundation.
I had trusted the wrong people because they told me what was easiest to hear.
Giulia watched me quietly.
"You frightened me, Mr. Moretti. Not because of what people say about you. Because everyone in this house knew your wife's name was something we weren't allowed to discuss."
I looked away.
That had been my order.
My grief had silenced the one subject that mattered most.
"I'm sorry," I said.
Giulia blinked.
I don't think she expected those words.
Neither did I.
I slid the photograph back toward her.
"Did Chiara know about Richard?"
"She mentioned him."
"What did she say?"
"That he had made a terrible mistake, but someone more powerful was helping him hide it."
My stomach tightened.
"Carlo?"
"She never said."
Giulia looked toward the window.
"But she was afraid of a man who wore a gold ring with a black stone."
I knew that ring.
Richard Hale had worn one.
But so had several men in our business circles.
"Anything else?"
She hesitated.
"Chiara asked me to deliver an envelope."
"To whom?"
"Your brother."
I sat completely still.
"Lorenzo?"
She nodded.
"I met him at a train station. He was angry when he read it."
"What was inside?"
"I didn't look."
"What happened afterward?"
"He gave me something to return to Chiara."
"What?"
"A small photograph wrapped in brown paper."
I remembered Mia describing the man with the funny hat.
Perhaps Lorenzo had returned to deliver something else.
"Where's that photograph now?"
"I gave it to Chiara. I don't know what she did with it."
I was about to ask another question when Marco entered.
"Boss, we have the medical records."
I stood.
"From Price's clinic?"
"Yes. The clinic closed four years ago, but its archived billing company retained some data."
He placed a folder on the desk.
The records showed an unusual prescription entry made at 4:18 p.m. on the afternoon before Chiara died.
It had been corrected nineteen minutes later.
The second entry was authorized remotely.
Through an account belonging to the foundation.
I stared at the username.
V.MORETTI.
Valentina.
Giulia covered her mouth.
"That can't be right."
I looked at Marco.
"Where's my sister?"
"In the east garden."
"Bring her."
But Marco didn't move.
"There's another problem."
He opened a second page.
The account had been accessed from a computer located inside the Moretti estate.
Not Valentina's office.
Not the foundation headquarters.
My private study.
I felt the room go cold.
For eight years, I'd wondered whether someone outside my family had destroyed Chiara.
Now the evidence pointed toward my own home.
Then Giulia suddenly leaned forward.
"Wait."
She pointed to a small code beside the prescription entry.
"I remember this."
"What is it?"
"A delivery routing number."
"For what?"
"Medication shipments. The clinic used it when prescriptions were sent to private residences."
I read the address.
It wasn't ours.
It was a house outside Chicago.
The property belonged to a company I'd never heard of.
But Marco recognized it.
"Boss," he said slowly, "that's one of Richard Hale's old properties."
I stood.
"Get the car."
Giulia caught my sleeve.
"Mr. Moretti, please be careful."
I looked at her.
"Why?"
Her voice trembled.
"Because I remember something else about that address."
"What?"
"Three days after Chiara died, Dr. Price sent someone there with a sealed medical cooler."
I stared at her.
"Who?"
Giulia swallowed.
"Your sister."
Before I could answer, Marco's tablet chimed with an internal security alert.
He looked at the screen.
Then looked at me.
"Dante, the security system just flagged an unauthorized entry into Chiara's bedroom."
"Who?"
Marco turned the tablet around.
The bedroom camera showed Mia standing beside the music cabinet.
She was holding her cloth doll.
And crouching beside her was an older man wearing a brown fedora.
He looked straight into the camera.
Then removed his hat.
Lorenzo.
My brother.
May you like
Alive.
And standing inside my house.
