Chapter 3 - THE WATCH THAT STOPPED AT 2:17
“Are you telling me Richard Bellini carried my mother out of the Bellavista unconscious?”
Edward Sullivan didn't answer immediately.
Behind us, the sounds of the engagement dinner had disappeared.
The guests were being escorted out through the front entrance.
Giuseppe sat in his wheelchair between us, his breathing gradually becoming calmer.
I held the folded paper so tightly its edges pressed into my palm.
“Edward,” I repeated, “what happened to her?”
He lowered his eyes.
“I saw two men carrying someone beneath a gray wool coat. Richard was walking behind them.”
“Did you see her face?”
“No.”
“Then how do you know it was my mother?”
“Because I found her employee badge beside the service elevator.”
He looked at the number written on Giuseppe's paper.
“Three-one-four.”
For eleven months, I'd walked through Luca Moretti's mansion believing I was simply an employee.
Now I was standing beside a man who might know why my mother had spent years waking from nightmares she refused to explain.
Luca appeared at the end of the hallway.
“Detective Whitcomb has entered the Bellavista,” he said. “Officers are checking the occupied areas.”
I immediately asked, “Have they found Helen?”
“Not yet.”
His gaze moved between Edward and me.
“What happened?”
Edward hesitated.
I didn't.
“Your fiancée's father was involved in something that happened to my mother eleven years ago.”
Luca went still.
“What something?”
“I don't know yet.”
I hated how small my voice sounded.
“But I'm going to find out.”
Luca looked at Edward.
“Tell me everything.”
Edward explained what he'd witnessed.
When he finished, Luca said nothing for several seconds.
Then he asked a question I hadn't considered.
“Why didn't you report it?”
Edward's face crumpled.
“I did.”
“To whom?”
“To the police. An officer came the next morning.”
“What happened?”
“He told me Anna Walsh had been taken to the hospital after collapsing at work. He said her employment had been terminated because she'd admitted stealing money.”
Edward swallowed.
“And I believed him.”
I stared at him.
“My mother has never mentioned any theft accusation.”
“That doesn't surprise me.”
“Why?”
“Because the Bellavista's owners were instructed not to contact her.”
Luca's eyes narrowed.
“By whom?”
“Richard Bellini.”
Giuseppe suddenly opened his eyes.
He reached for his watch again.
“Time,” he whispered.
I glanced at the hands.
They had stopped at 2:17.
“It's broken,” I said gently.
Giuseppe shook his head.
“Always... remember.”
Edward crouched beside him.
“Two-seventeen?”
Giuseppe nodded.
Edward's face changed.
“That was the time the service elevator stopped working that night.”
I looked at the watch.
“Why would he keep it stopped?”
“Perhaps because he knew the official timeline was wrong,” Luca said.
He turned toward his grandfather.
“Did you witness what happened?”
Giuseppe's eyes filled.
He nodded.
Then he began struggling with the watch strap.
I helped him remove it.
He turned the watch over.
On the back were two tiny engraved initials.
A.W.
My mother's initials.
I looked at Edward.
“Why would my mother's initials be on Giuseppe's watch?”
He stared at the engraving.
“I've never seen those before.”
Giuseppe touched his chest.
“Gift.”
Luca knelt beside him.
“Grandpa, did Anna give you this?”
A nod.
“Why?”
Giuseppe closed his eyes.
“Saved... me.”
I felt the world shift.
My mother had spent years telling me to stay away from powerful men.
She hated expensive hotels.
She never allowed me to work late without calling her.
And when I told her I'd accepted a housekeeping position at the Moretti mansion, she'd become so upset that I almost turned down the job.
She had known this family.
She had known Giuseppe.
And she hadn't told me.
Luca looked at me.
“Claire, I think we need to speak with your mother.”
I shook my head.
“She had dialysis this morning. She's exhausted.”
“Then tomorrow.”
I looked toward Giuseppe.
“No. Not until we know Helen is safe.”
Luca nodded.
Before either of us could speak again, his security chief approached carrying a tablet.
“Detective Whitcomb sent photographs from the Bellavista.”
He handed it to Luca.
I moved closer.
The first photograph showed a long corridor covered in construction dust.
The second showed a heavy wooden door.
Number twelve.
A police officer stood beside it.
The third photograph made my stomach turn.
The door had been secured with a metal bar from the outside.
Luca swore under his breath.
“Where is Helen?”
The security chief's expression was grim.
“Room Twelve is empty.”
I felt Giuseppe's fingers tighten around mine.
“Empty?”
“Yes, Miss Bennett.”
“Then where did the messages come from?”
“They found a charging cable inside the room. Someone had been there recently.”
Luca swiped to the next photograph.
A narrow cot.
An untouched plate of food.
A small washbasin.
And a folded gray coat lying beneath the bed.
I leaned forward.
“Stop.”
Luca looked at me.
“What is it?”
“The coat.”
It was old-fashioned, with large dark buttons and a torn sleeve.
I'd seen that coat before.
My mother kept one exactly like it in a cedar trunk beneath her bed.
When I was little, she'd let me wrap myself in it during thunderstorms.
I remembered the smell of lavender and old wool.
“There are two coats,” I whispered.
Luca frowned.
“What?”
“My mother has that same coat.”
Edward leaned closer.
Then he covered his mouth.
“Those coats belonged to the Bellavista's emergency medical volunteers.”
He pointed at a small embroidered emblem near the collar.
“They were issued in pairs.”
Giuseppe began tapping his chair.
Three times.
Then twice.
Edward stared.
“Three-two.”
Luca looked at him.
“Another signal?”
“No,” Edward said. “A shift number.”
He turned toward me.
“Anna worked the overnight accounting shift. Helen worked the early morning shift.”
I looked at the photograph again.
“Then Helen may have kept her coat all these years.”
“Perhaps,” Edward answered.
But Giuseppe shook his head.
He reached for the tablet.
His trembling finger moved toward the coat's collar.
There was a small silver safety pin attached to the fabric.
I recognized it immediately.
My mother owned one just like it.
A little silver bird with one wing raised.
She had given me a matching pin on my eighteenth birthday.
I touched the pin on my blouse.
Luca noticed.
“Claire?”
“My mother told me it was a family tradition.”
Edward looked stricken.
“Helen used to collect those pins.”
I felt my knees weaken.
“What are you saying?”
He swallowed.
“Helen gave one to Anna when she started working at the Bellavista.”
I stared at Giuseppe.
“Was Helen my grandmother?”
He began to cry.
Edward looked away.
Luca took one step closer.
“Claire, we shouldn't assume anything until we speak to your mother.”
But Giuseppe lifted his hand.
He pointed at the silver bird on my blouse.
Then nodded.
My breath caught.
For twenty-five years, I'd believed my mother's parents had died before I was born.
Now a woman who might be my grandmother had been trapped inside a room at the Bellavista.
And someone had taken her.
The security chief's tablet vibrated with an incoming evidence photograph from Detective Whitcomb.
This time it showed the underside of the cot.
Something had been scratched into the wooden frame.
The letters were uneven.
But readable.
ANNA DIDN'T STEAL THE MONEY.
Below them was another sentence.
ASK GIUSEPPE WHAT HAPPENED TO THE BABY.
I stared at those words.
Then slowly turned toward the old man.
“Mr. Moretti,” I whispered, “what baby?”
Giuseppe looked at me with an expression I had never seen before.
Not confusion.
Not fear.
Grief.
He reached for my hand.
May you like
Then whispered:
“THE ONE THEY TOLD ANNA SHE COULDN'T KEEP.”
