Chapter 7 - THE SECRET SEWN INTO A BLUE COAT
"Your mother's coat?"
I stared at the frozen image.
Dante nodded.
"I remember it."
His voice was quieter than before.
"She wore it when she visited the children's hospital. She said it was warm enough for winter but light enough to carry a child."
He gave a small, painful smile.
"She was always carrying somebody's child."
The room fell silent.
Then I thought of the photograph.
Beatrice Bennett had been wearing that same coat.
"Why would Vanessa's mother have it?"
Dante looked toward the silver watch on his desk.
"Maybe Lucia gave it to her."
"Or maybe Beatrice took it for safekeeping."
He glanced at me.
"That's what I intend to find out."
The following morning, I accompanied Dante and Vanessa to Bennett Medical Holdings.
I wasn't wearing my maid's uniform.
Mrs. Alvarez, the mansion's senior housekeeper, had quietly helped me choose a simple navy dress.
When I'd protested that I couldn't afford anything appropriate, she'd handed me a dress she'd bought years earlier and never worn.
"You're not going there to impress anybody," she'd said. "You're going there because your mother deserves answers."
Vanessa noticed the dress when we entered the company's private conference room.
Her eyes lingered on me.
Then she said, "You look nice."
I didn't know what to do with that.
"Thank you."
Frederick Bennett arrived five minutes later.
He greeted Dante warmly.
"Son, we need to settle this misunderstanding before it damages both families."
Dante remained standing.
"I'm not your son."
Frederick's smile faded.
Vanessa looked at the floor.
Dante placed the old ambulance photograph on the conference table.
"Tell me why your transport company billed the Lucia Care Fund for two ambulances."
Frederick examined the picture.
"That was a long time ago."
"Twenty-four years."
"Records from that period are incomplete."
"Then let's discuss something current."
Dante placed the management-fee summary beside it.
"Why has your company collected nearly three million dollars in fees over five years without adequate service records?"
Frederick's face hardened.
"Are you accusing me of stealing?"
"I'm asking you to account for money intended for patients."
Frederick looked toward Vanessa.
"This is what happens when outsiders interfere with family matters."
I felt his eyes settle on me.
"Miss Carter, I assume?"
"Yes."
"Your mother caused an enormous amount of trouble for both families."
I stepped forward.
"My mother spent twenty-four years trying to survive what happened to her."
Frederick smiled thinly.
"And who told you that?"
"She did."
"Of course."
Dante moved between us.
"You're speaking to her, not about her."
Frederick's gaze sharpened.
"Be careful, Dante. Your father understood the value of loyalty."
"My father also left me a business arrangement I apparently didn't understand."
"That's because he trusted me."
"Then show me the records."
Silence.
Vanessa stepped toward her father.
"Please. Just give him the coat."
Frederick turned slowly.
"What coat?"
"The one I brought you."
"Vanessa."
"You promised me we'd be protecting Mother's memory."
Something flickered across his face.
"I am protecting it."
"Then why are you hiding what she left behind?"
For the first time, Frederick looked genuinely tired.
"Because you have no idea what it would do to your mother if people knew everything."
Vanessa's eyes glistened.
"She's been gone eighteen years, Dad."
He looked away.
Then, after a long silence, he opened the cabinet behind his desk.
Inside lay the blue coat.
He placed it on the conference table.
"Take it."
Dante looked surprised.
Frederick gave a bitter smile.
"You're not going to find the answer you want."
The lining was already partly opened.
Small stitches had been cut near the inside pocket.
Someone had clearly searched it.
But when I ran my fingers along the fabric, I felt a thin ridge beneath the collar.
"Wait."
Everyone turned.
I held the coat closer to the light.
There was a row of hand-sewn stitches beneath the original seam.
The thread was a slightly different shade.
Mrs. Alvarez had taught me basic sewing when I first started working at the mansion.
She'd always said old garments told stories if you knew where to look.
I glanced at Dante.
"May I?"
He nodded.
I used the small scissors Vanessa found in Frederick's desk to loosen the stitching.
Inside was a narrow oilcloth packet.
Frederick went completely still.
Dante noticed.
"You didn't find it."
Frederick said nothing.
I unfolded the packet carefully.
Inside were several handwritten account entries and a folded dispatch receipt.
The figures listed transfers from the Lucia Care Fund into a Bennett freight account.
There were dates.
Amounts.
And initials beside each payment.
Some belonged to Frederick.
Others belonged to Salvatore Moretti.
Dante studied them.
His face darkened.
"My father knew."
Frederick leaned against his desk.
"Your father needed that money to keep parts of his business operating after a disastrous expansion. I helped him. We were going to repay it."
"With money intended for sick people?"
Frederick said nothing.
Then Dante unfolded the dispatch receipt.
At the top were the same initials from the loading-dock photograph.
S.M.
But beneath them was a printed explanation.
SPECIAL MOVEMENT — NONPATIENT TRANSPORT.
My stomach dropped.
"That ambulance wasn't carrying a patient."
Frederick closed his eyes.
Dante looked at him.
"What was inside?"
Frederick opened his mouth.
Then stopped.
Vanessa stared at the receipt.
"Dad, tell him."
For several seconds, nobody spoke.
Finally, Frederick looked toward me.
"Ask Miriam Carter why she stayed behind with Lucia when the first ambulance left."
I felt a chill.
"Because she was caring for her patient."
He shook his head.
"No."
Dante stepped closer.
"Then why?"
Frederick's voice turned low.
"Because there was something in that ambulance she refused to let Lucia see."
I looked at the packet again.
At the figures.
At the dispatch record.
And suddenly, I understood what the documents didn't explain.
The first ambulance had been carrying something other than a patient.
Something important enough to move in the middle of a hospital emergency.
May you like
Dante pressed his palm flat against the table.
"Frederick, what exactly did you put in that ambulance while my mother was fighting for her life?"
