Chapter 2 - THE WOMAN IN THE FOYER
Roman was already moving before the woman reached the dining room.
I had never seen him move that quickly.
Not when security alarms went off.
Not when two men argued at his table during a charity dinner and half the room thought somebody might pull a weapon.
But the instant that voice drifted through the foyer, Roman forgot the photograph in his hand.
Forgot the shattered champagne glass.
Forgot Cassandra.
“Lucia?”
The name barely left his mouth.
Evelyn’s fingers locked around mine.
“Oh, God,” she whispered.
Cassandra closed her eyes.
That frightened me more than anything else.
Because she didn’t look surprised.
She looked defeated.
Roman reached the doorway just as the woman stepped into view.
She was perhaps thirty-eight.
Thin.
Dark hair pulled into a low knot.
A charcoal coat buttoned to her throat.
There were faint lines around her eyes that looked older than the rest of her face.
Beside her stood a little girl in a red winter coat.
Seven, maybe eight.
The same dark curls as the child in the photograph.
The same eyes that had made Evelyn nearly collapse.
Roman stopped.
The woman stopped.
For several terrible seconds, neither moved.
Then Roman whispered, “Lucia.”
Her mouth trembled.
“Hello, Anthony.”
I heard Evelyn make a broken sound beside me.
Only family used Roman’s middle name.
The little girl looked from Lucia to Roman, sensing something enormous without understanding it.
Roman took one step forward.
Then another.
His face had gone pale.
“You died.”
Lucia’s eyes filled.
“No.”
His voice hardened instantly.
“We buried you.”
“You buried a closed casket.”
The room changed.
Roman’s head turned slightly toward the relatives still sitting around the table.
Nobody moved.
I understood why.
Whatever this was, it wasn’t simply a reunion.
Someone had lied to him for eleven years.
Roman looked back at his sister.
“Where have you been?”
Lucia glanced at Cassandra.
That single look made his shoulders stiffen.
“You knew.”
Cassandra stood slowly.
“Yes.”
Roman stared at her.
“How long?”
“Roman—”
“How long?”
“Three years.”
Nobody seemed to breathe.
Three years.
Tomorrow, he was supposed to marry her.
For three years, she had known his dead sister was alive.
Roman’s expression became so controlled that I almost wished he would shout.
Cassandra seemed to understand that too.
“I can explain.”
“That sentence is becoming very expensive tonight.”
Lucia stepped between them.
“Don’t.”
Roman looked at her.
“She protected me.”
His eyes moved back to Cassandra.
“By letting me visit your grave?”
Cassandra flinched.
“That wasn’t my decision.”
“But keeping quiet was.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
The little girl suddenly reached for Cassandra.
Not Lucia.
Cassandra’s entire face changed.
She bent immediately and took the child’s hand.
“Anna, sweetheart, stay beside me.”
Anna.
I looked at the photograph still crushed slightly between Roman’s fingers.
His thumb moved.
There it was on the back.
ANNA DELUCA.
Roman saw it too.
His eyes lifted toward the child.
Then toward the silver bracelet on the table.
A. DeLuca.
06-14-2012.
He understood.
“So the bracelet is hers.”
Lucia nodded.
“Yes.”
Roman swallowed.
For the first time that evening, the fearsome Roman DeLuca looked like a man trying not to fall apart.
He crouched so he wouldn’t tower over the girl.
“You’re Anna?”
She nodded.
Roman’s voice softened.
“I’m Roman.”
“I know.”
That caught him.
“You do?”
Anna looked at Lucia.
Then at Cassandra.
Finally, she whispered, “Mom has your picture.”
Roman’s eyes went back to his sister.
“Mom.”
Lucia nodded.
“She’s mine.”
Roman glanced at Cassandra.
“Evelyn heard her call you Mommy.”
Anna answered before either woman could.
“I used to.”
Cassandra squeezed her hand.
Roman waited.
Anna stared at the marble floor.
“When my real mommy was sick.”
Lucia’s hand went unconsciously to her ribs beneath her coat.
Roman noticed.
“What happened?”
“Nothing that matters tonight.”
“It matters to me.”
Lucia gave him a sad smile.
“That is exactly why I couldn’t come home.”
Roman rose.
“Someone needs to start telling me the truth.”
Cassandra stepped forward.
“I will.”
He looked at her.
“Start three years ago.”
Cassandra glanced around the crowded dining room.
Roman followed her gaze.
“Everyone out.”
Several relatives hesitated.
Roman’s voice remained quiet.
“Now.”
Chairs moved.
Dinner guests filed out.
Within two minutes, only Roman, Cassandra, Lucia, Anna, Evelyn, me and three security men remained.
Roman’s security chief, Daniel Crowe, stood near the doors.
He had been with Roman for almost fifteen years.
I had seen him drink coffee with Evelyn in the kitchen.
Seen Roman trust him without asking questions.
Lucia saw him.
And froze.
Her fingers tightened around Anna’s shoulder.
Roman noticed immediately.
“Lucia?”
She didn’t answer.
Daniel took half a step backward.
Small.
Almost nothing.
But Roman saw that too.
“Crowe,” he said.
“Yes, boss?”
“Stay where you are.”
Daniel’s face gave nothing away.
Lucia pulled Anna closer.
“Roman, send him out.”
Roman looked from her to Daniel.
“Why?”
“I said send him out.”
“Lucia.”
Her breathing had changed.
Eleven years of fear seemed to pour into the room.
Finally, she reached beneath her coat.
Daniel’s hand twitched near his jacket.
Two guards immediately looked at him.
Roman raised one finger.
Everyone stopped.
Lucia pulled out a worn silver rosary.
Evelyn gasped.
I didn’t understand.
Roman did.
He stared at the rosary.
“That was Dad’s.”
“No.”
Lucia’s voice shook.
“It was Mom’s.”
Roman took it.
A tiny blue bead near the cross had been cracked.
He rubbed it with his thumb.
“I thought this burned with you.”
“It almost did.”
She turned the cross over.
Something had been scratched into the back.
Three letters.
D.C.
Daniel Crowe’s face changed.
Barely.
But enough.
Roman saw it.
“What does that mean?”
Lucia looked directly at Daniel.
“It means the night everyone was told I died, Daniel Crowe was there.”
Daniel’s jaw tightened.
“That’s not possible.”
Lucia’s expression hardened.
“You were wearing your father’s watch.”
Daniel went completely still.
Roman looked down at Daniel’s left wrist.
An old gold watch.
I had seen it dozens of times.
Evelyn had too.
“That watch,” Lucia whispered, “was the last thing I saw before somebody locked the door.”
Cassandra stepped closer to Anna.
Roman’s voice became almost gentle.
“Daniel.”
“Yes?”
“Take off the watch.”
Daniel didn’t move.
Roman waited.
Then Daniel slowly unfastened it.
Lucia’s face drained.
“No.”
Roman looked at her.
“What?”
She stared at the back of the watch.
“There should be initials engraved there.”
Daniel’s thumb covered the metal.
Roman extended his hand.
Daniel hesitated.
Three seconds.
Maybe four.
Then he gave Roman the watch.
Roman turned it over.
The engraving wasn’t D.C.
It read:
V.D.
Roman frowned.
Evelyn stopped breathing.
Lucia whispered, “That’s impossible.”
Roman looked at her.
“Whose initials are those?”
Evelyn answered.
Her voice was barely audible.
“Vincent DeLuca.”
Roman’s uncle.
The man who had left dinner only ninety seconds earlier.
Roman turned toward his guards.
“Find Vincent.”
One guard touched his earpiece.
Then his expression changed.
“Boss.”
“What?”
“His car just cleared the north gate.”
Roman’s eyes hardened.
Daniel Crowe quietly said, “I’ll bring him back.”
“No.”
Roman turned the old watch over once more.
Then he noticed something tucked beneath the leather strap.
A tiny piece of faded paper.
He pulled it free.
It was a hospital visitor ticket.
St. Matthew’s Children’s Hospital.
From three weeks earlier.
The exact day Evelyn had seen Cassandra and Anna.
Roman lifted his eyes toward Daniel.
May you like
And this time Daniel Crowe looked afraid.
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