Chapter 6 - THE WOMAN VANESSA WAS TRYING TO PROTECT
“Vanessa's mother was on the boat?”
Luca stared at Helen Parker as though he hadn't heard correctly.
The older woman nodded.
“Margaret Bellini worked as a private nurse. She and Isabella were close friends.”
Detective Monroe returned from her call.
“Daniel is safe,” she told Luca. “The house is secure.”
Only then did Luca seem able to breathe.
He looked back at the photograph.
“Why did nobody tell me?”
Helen hesitated.
“Because your father asked everyone involved to stop discussing that day.”
“My father?”
“Yes.”
Luca looked at the picture again.
His mother smiling.
A little boy in her arms.
And another woman wearing the red bracelet.
For the first time, the bracelet no longer seemed to belong to a lost mother.
It belonged to someone who had witnessed what happened to her.
Back at the mansion, Vanessa sat in the drawing room under police supervision.
Her red gown had been replaced with a cream sweater.
Her hair was pulled into a loose ponytail.
Without the diamonds and perfect makeup, she looked younger.
And frightened.
Luca entered carrying the photograph.
“Who was Margaret Bellini?”
Vanessa's face went white.
He placed the picture on the table.
“Your mother.”
She stared at it.
“Where did you find that?”
“At the marina.”
Vanessa reached toward the photograph, then stopped.
For several seconds, she said nothing.
Finally, she whispered:
“I haven't seen that picture since I was a child.”
Luca sat opposite her.
“Tell me what happened on the boat.”
Vanessa shook her head.
“I wasn't there.”
“Then tell me what your mother told you.”
Her eyes filled.
“She said Isabella was trying to leave Chicago.”
Luca frowned.
“Leave?”
“Yes.”
“Without me?”
Vanessa shook her head.
“She was taking you with her.”
Luca stared.
“Why?”
Vanessa looked toward the window.
“Because someone in your family had become dangerous.”
“Who?”
She closed her eyes.
“I don't know.”
Luca leaned forward.
“Vanessa, you've lied to me about my father. You've hidden information about Catherine. You tried to silence my son.”
“I know.”
“You know?”
Her voice cracked.
“Yes.”
For the first time, she didn't offer an excuse.
She looked down at her hands.
“I thought I could keep everything from falling apart.”
Luca's expression hardened.
“You locked a woman downstairs.”
Vanessa shook her head sharply.
“No.”
“Then explain.”
“I helped move Catherine into the old medical suite because she said someone was watching her. It was supposed to be temporary.”
“Who was watching her?”
“Dr. Cross.”
Luca went still.
Vanessa continued.
“Catherine had discovered discrepancies in your father's medication records. She wanted evidence before confronting anyone.”
“And you helped her?”
“At first.”
Luca stared.
“What changed?”
“My father.”
Victor Bellini.
Vanessa swallowed.
“Cross told me my father would be prosecuted if Catherine revealed what she'd found. He said the medical supply contracts would be traced back to him.”
“Were they fraudulent?”
Vanessa nodded.
“Some of them.”
Luca stood.
“You let Catherine remain hidden because you wanted to protect your father?”
“I thought Cross would release her after the investigation ended.”
“For six months?”
Vanessa began crying.
“I kept asking about her. He told me she had been moved somewhere safe.”
Luca stared at her.
“And you believed him?”
She shook her head.
“Not completely.”
“Then why didn't you call the police?”
Vanessa looked at him.
“Because Cross threatened my mother.”
Luca froze.
“Margaret?”
Vanessa nodded.
“She's been ill for years. Cross controls her treatment.”
Luca's jaw tightened.
“Where is she?”
“At a private care facility outside Chicago.”
Detective Monroe, standing near the doorway, stepped forward.
“Give me the address.”
Vanessa looked at Luca.
For one moment, she seemed to hope he might forgive her.
But he only said:
“You should have told me.”
“I thought you'd leave me.”
Luca's eyes were steady.
“You lost me when you decided my son's fear mattered less than your secrets.”
Vanessa lowered her head.
That afternoon, Catherine Ellis was strong enough to speak briefly with Detective Monroe at the hospital.
Luca attended with her permission.
I remained at the mansion.
Daniel was painting at the kitchen table when Arthur approached me carrying Vittorio's old gold watch.
“Emma, may I ask a favor?”
“Of course.”
He opened the back.
The tiny photograph of Isabella was still inside.
“Mr. Moretti asked me to retrieve Daniel's key.”
I found it in the small wooden keepsake box on Daniel's dresser.
Arthur examined it.
Then frowned.
“That's odd.”
“What?”
He turned the key over.
A narrow groove ran along one side.
“Your grandfather had this made specially,” Arthur told Daniel.
Daniel looked up from his painting.
“Grandpa said it was for the important box.”
Arthur smiled sadly.
“Yes, I believe it was.”
Then Daniel reached into his pocket.
“I have another one.”
He produced a tiny silver key attached to a blue ribbon.
Arthur went completely still.
“Where did you get that?”
“Grandpa gave it to me.”
“When?”
“On my birthday.”
Arthur glanced at me.
Daniel's seventh birthday had been two weeks before Vittorio died.
“What does it open?” I asked.
Daniel shrugged.
“The music box.”
“What music box?”
“The one Grandpa said Grandma used to play.”
Arthur's expression changed.
“Emma, I think we need to look in the library.”
We found the music box on the highest shelf of Vittorio's display cabinet.
It was made of dark walnut, with a faded painting of a sailboat on the lid.
Daniel unlocked it.
A delicate melody filled the room.
Inside were several old letters.
A dried white rose.
And a small velvet pouch.
Arthur opened the pouch carefully.
Inside lay the red coral bracelet.
I stared.
“The same one from the picture.”
Arthur shook his head.
“Not exactly.”
He held it beneath the lamp.
The beads were red.
The silver charm was an anchor.
But the clasp had been repaired with blue thread.
Arthur's face drained of color.
“I remember this.”
“From when?”
“Your mother repaired that clasp herself.”
He turned toward Daniel.
“Do you remember what Grandpa told you about this bracelet?”
Daniel nodded.
“He said it was a promise.”
“What promise?”
The little boy thought.
Then he answered:
“That nobody would leave the other lady behind.”
Arthur covered his mouth.
I looked at the letters.
One envelope was addressed to Isabella Moretti.
The handwriting was unfamiliar.
I opened it carefully.
The first sentence made my stomach turn.
Isabella, if anything happens to me, please tell Vanessa I didn't abandon her.
I looked at Arthur.
“Who wrote this?”
He stared at the signature.
Then he whispered:
“Margaret.”
I read the next line.
Victor knows what Adrian did. He says he'll make sure neither of us reaches the police.
Arthur sank into a chair.
But the final paragraph was worse.
If they tell you I died, don't believe them. And if they tell Vanessa I chose to leave her, please make sure she knows the truth.
I looked at Daniel.
Then at the bracelet.
For twenty-eight years, Vanessa had believed her mother abandoned her.
But Vittorio had kept a letter proving otherwise.
And at the bottom of the page was a date.
Three days after Isabella's funeral.
Arthur stared at it.
“Emma.”
I looked up.
May you like
His voice trembled.
“THIS LETTER WAS WRITTEN AFTER MARGARET BELLINI WAS DECLARED DEAD.”
