Chapter 2 - THE NAME NOBODY WANTED HER TO SAY
“Lock the gates.”
Luca Moretti's voice was quiet, but every person in the dining room heard him.
Daniel, his security chief, stood beside the doorway.
“Sir, we have thirty guests.”
“Then thirty guests can remain comfortable while we establish what happened to Patricia Morgan.”
Richard Bellini pushed away from the table.
“You cannot seriously believe we're responsible for a missing nurse.”
Luca looked at him.
“I haven't accused you of anything.”
“You just ordered your guards to keep us here.”
“I ordered Daniel to preserve the situation until the police arrive.”
That last sentence changed the room.
Vanessa stopped crying.
Her father, Anthony Bellini, set down his wineglass.
And Mrs. Moretti, still sitting in her wheelchair beside me, tightened her fingers around the little silver bell.
Four rings.
I looked down.
“Something else, Mrs. Moretti?”
She nodded.
Then pointed toward Richard.
Luca noticed.
“Mom, is Richard the person Patricia confronted?”
She shook her head.
Richard exhaled.
Then she pointed toward Anthony.
His expression hardened.
“Adelaide,” he said, “you know perfectly well I have always respected your family.”
Mrs. Moretti's name was Adelaide.
I had heard her late husband's friends use it, but everyone in the mansion simply called her Mrs. Moretti.
She looked at Anthony for a long moment.
Then shook her head again.
Luca frowned.
“Who, Mom?”
She held out her notebook.
I placed the pen between her fingers.
It took nearly a minute for her to write three words.
THE BLUE COAT.
I looked at Luca.
“Does that mean anything to you?”
His face changed.
“A blue coat?”
His mother nodded.
He stared at the notebook.
“Mom used to give every child at the foundation's home a winter coat. Different colors, different sizes. She insisted nobody should have to wear something that didn't fit.”
Adelaide touched his sleeve.
“Blue,” she whispered.
“Which child, Mom?”
She looked frustrated.
Then she wrote a name.
ELLIOT.
Richard suddenly sat down.
I noticed because everyone else was leaning forward.
Luca noticed too.
“Richard. Who is Elliot?”
Richard rubbed his forehead.
“A former resident. Elliot Turner. He was involved in an incident at the home several years ago.”
“What incident?”
“He left the program.”
“How old was he?”
“Fifteen, perhaps sixteen.”
Adelaide struck the table with her good hand.
The sound startled everyone.
“Thirteen,” she managed.
Richard looked away.
Something cold settled in my stomach.
A thirteen-year-old child had apparently disappeared from a home my employer's family funded.
And somebody was describing it as leaving a program.
Luca turned toward Daniel.
“Find out whether there's a missing-person report.”
“Sir.”
“And contact the local child-welfare authorities. I want an independent welfare check at the home tonight.”
Vanessa stepped forward.
“Luca, please. You are making this sound terrible when you don't know the circumstances.”
He faced her.
“Then tell me the circumstances.”
She opened her mouth.
Nothing came out.
That was when Dr. Hale spoke.
“There is one detail I may be able to clarify.”
Luca turned.
The physician looked uncomfortable.
“When Patricia contacted my office, she mentioned a residential facility. She said your mother's confusion had become worse after somebody showed her an old photograph.”
“What photograph?” Luca asked.
“I don't know.”
Adelaide began searching the pocket of her cardigan.
I helped her.
There was a tissue, a folded grocery receipt, and a faded photograph no bigger than a playing card.
She pushed it into Luca's hand.
Three children stood outside a brick building.
One was a smiling boy wearing a bright blue winter coat.
On the back, written in Adelaide's unsteady handwriting, were four words.
Elliot. Christmas. Come home.
Luca examined the photograph.
“I remember him.”
He looked almost surprised.
“He used to follow me around when I visited. Wanted to know how engines worked.”
Adelaide smiled faintly.
Then the smile disappeared.
She pointed at the boy.
“Gone.”
Richard cleared his throat.
“He was eventually transferred to another placement.”
“Where?” Luca asked.
“I don't have those records.”
“You oversee foundation investments and property transactions. How do you know about this boy?”
Richard didn't answer immediately.
Finally, he said, “Because his case created a liability issue.”
The word liability made my stomach turn.
I glanced at Adelaide.
She was crying silently.
Luca stepped closer to his mother.
“Mom, did you think Elliot had been hurt?”
She nodded.
“And Patricia found something about him?”
Another nod.
“But there are other children?”
Four rings.
Luca looked toward Daniel.
“Get someone from the foundation here who actually knows the residents.”
Mrs. Wilson approached quietly.
“Mr. Moretti, the home's director is Mrs. Evelyn Porter. She's been there fourteen years.”
“Call her.”
Vanessa shook her head.
“Evelyn is a good woman. Dragging her into this in the middle of the night won't help anybody.”
Luca studied her.
“Why are you defending everyone except Patricia?”
Vanessa's eyes filled.
“Because I have spent six months trying to hold this family together while your mother's condition deteriorated and you were away dealing with business.”
Her voice broke.
“You asked me to help. I helped. Now everything I've done is being treated like a crime.”
For the first time that evening, Luca seemed to hesitate.
I understood why.
Vanessa had managed his mother's appointments.
She had arranged physical therapy.
She had attended foundation meetings when Luca couldn't.
Those things had happened.
They were not imaginary.
But neither was the bruise around Adelaide's wrist.
Neither was Patricia's letter.
And neither was the little boy in the blue coat.
“Helping my family doesn't mean making decisions behind my back,” Luca said.
Vanessa lowered her eyes.
“I know.”
It was the closest thing to remorse I had heard from her.
Then Mrs. Wilson returned.
“Mr. Moretti, Mrs. Porter is on her way. She said she has been trying to reach you through the foundation office for several weeks.”
Luca frowned.
“About what?”
“She wouldn't say over the phone.”
Richard stood again.
“I should tell you something before Evelyn arrives.”
Every head turned.
He looked directly at Luca.
“The children's home is losing money. There are serious compliance issues. The property needs repairs, and the foundation's reserves are nearly exhausted.”
“Why didn't you tell me?”
“Because your mother refused to authorize a restructuring.”
Adelaide shook her head.
Richard continued.
“Vanessa believed that if the home closed and the property was sold, the remaining money could support more children through other organizations.”
Luca looked toward Vanessa.
She nodded tearfully.
“That was the plan.”
For a moment, the explanation almost sounded reasonable.
Then I remembered something.
“Mrs. Moretti,” I asked gently, “did you refuse because you didn't want the children moved?”
She shook her head.
She reached for the pen again.
Slowly, painfully, she wrote:
I REFUSED BECAUSE THEY WERE ALREADY GONE.
Luca bent toward her.
“Who was already gone?”
Adelaide pointed to Elliot.
Then she held up three trembling fingers.
“Three children?” I whispered.
She nodded.
Richard closed his eyes.
Vanessa gripped the back of a chair.
And Luca said something that made the room feel suddenly smaller.
“Richard, you told me Elliot was transferred.”
“He was.”
“Then show me where.”
Richard looked at the photograph.
“I can't.”
“Why not?”
“Because the agency on his transfer papers never existed.”
Nobody moved.
Richard swallowed.
“And Elliot wasn't the only child assigned to it.”
Adelaide rang her silver bell four times.
Across the table, Anthony Bellini quietly reached into his jacket pocket.
He removed a small brass key and placed it beside his plate.
May you like
Richard stared at it in horror.
“Dad,” he whispered, “you were supposed to destroy that.”
