Chapter 6 - The Lie That Sent the Sheriff
“Find my father. Please.”
Rebecca stood in Matteo's office, trembling so badly that she could barely hold her phone.
Matteo called the rehabilitation center immediately.
The night supervisor confirmed that a transfer had been authorized.
But she couldn't provide the receiving facility.
“The paperwork came through an approved third-party coordinator,” she explained.
“Approved by whom?” Matteo demanded.
“Mr. Elias Grant.”
Matteo's jaw tightened.
“I'm coming there now.”
Rebecca reached for her coat.
“I'll drive.”
“Not with that wrist.”
“Then take me.”
Matteo didn't argue.
He called Celia and asked her to stay with Oliver.
Margaret remained in her room, under instructions not to approach the boy without another adult present.
Thirty minutes later, Matteo and Rebecca entered the rehabilitation center.
Rebecca went straight to the nurses' station.
“Thomas Collins. Please tell me where he is.”
A young nurse checked the computer.
Then she looked confused.
“He's still here.”
Rebecca grabbed the counter.
“What?”
“The transfer hasn't been completed. He's in the therapy wing.”
Rebecca didn't wait.
She hurried down the hallway.
Matteo followed.
Thomas Collins was sitting beside a window, slowly squeezing a foam ball with his left hand.
His right leg rested on a padded support.
“Dad.”
Thomas looked up.
His face brightened.
“Becca.”
She knelt beside his chair and wrapped her arms around him.
For a moment, neither spoke.
Then Thomas touched her swollen wrist.
“Who... hurt you?”
Rebecca tried to hide it.
“It's nothing, Dad.”
Thomas shook his head.
“Not nothing.”
Matteo stepped closer.
“Mr. Collins, I'm Matteo Valenti.”
Thomas studied him.
“I know.”
There was no warmth in his voice.
Rebecca explained that someone had tried transferring him without her consent.
Her father nodded slowly.
“A man came.”
“What man?” Matteo asked.
“Gray jacket. Silver watch.”
Matteo felt his stomach tighten.
“Did he give you a name?”
Thomas concentrated.
“Grant.”
Rebecca stared at him.
“What did Elias want?”
Thomas reached toward the side table.
Beneath a folded newspaper was a sheet of paper.
He handed it to Rebecca.
It was an affidavit.
The statement claimed Thomas had witnessed Rebecca mistreat Oliver during a family visit.
Rebecca stared at the words.
Her father had never visited the Valenti mansion.
He hadn't seen Oliver in weeks.
“This is a lie.”
Thomas nodded.
“He said... sign it.”
“What happened when you refused?”
Thomas swallowed.
“No therapy.”
Rebecca covered her mouth.
Then her father gripped her good hand.
“I said no.”
Tears slid down her face.
Thomas looked toward Matteo.
“My daughter... good girl.”
“I know,” Matteo replied.
Thomas tightened his grip.
“She protects people.”
Matteo lowered his eyes.
For the first time in years, he didn't know what to say.
He had built an empire that made grown men fear his name.
Yet a recovering stroke patient had shown more courage by refusing to sign one piece of paper than Matteo had shown by questioning his oldest friend.
The rehabilitation director arrived shortly afterward.
When Matteo demanded an explanation, she showed him the authorization.
The transfer had been requested through a private care-management agency.
Thomas's insurance hadn't terminated.
Someone had filed an administrative hold and requested a move to a contracted facility.
The paperwork appeared legitimate at first glance.
But the consent signature was false.
Thomas had never approved it.
Rebecca looked at Matteo.
“They tried to make him lie about me.”
Matteo nodded.
“And when he wouldn't, they tried to move him.”
The director agreed to suspend the transfer pending an independent review.
Thomas's necessary treatment would continue while his coverage was clarified.
Matteo asked Rebecca if she wanted assistance from an independent patient advocate.
She considered it.
Then nodded.
“Yes. But I want Dad included in every decision.”
“Of course.”
As they prepared to leave, Thomas called Matteo back.
“Mr. Valenti.”
Matteo turned.
Thomas pointed toward Rebecca.
“Don't make her... pay for being brave.”
Matteo felt the words settle heavily.
“I won't.”
They returned to the mansion shortly before noon.
Oliver was sitting at the kitchen table with Celia, coloring a dinosaur.
When he saw Rebecca, he dropped his crayon.
“Becca!”
He ran into her arms.
Rebecca knelt carefully.
“Hey, sweetheart.”
“Is your daddy okay?”
“He's okay.”
Oliver smiled.
“Good. Daddies need hugs too.”
Matteo looked away.
Celia noticed his expression but said nothing.
After lunch, Matteo found Margaret in the garden.
She was standing beside the lemon trees, holding Elena's blue coat.
“She always hated that I kept this,” Margaret said.
“Why?”
“Because she said people weren't things you could lock away.”
Matteo stopped beside her.
“Elias tried to make Rebecca's father sign a false statement.”
Margaret closed her eyes.
“I didn't know.”
“Did you sign one?”
Her silence answered him.
“Mother.”
“I told them Rebecca was reckless with Oliver.”
“You knew she saved him.”
“I didn't know about the car when I signed it.”
“Then why didn't you withdraw your statement afterward?”
Margaret's eyes filled.
“Because they told me you'd be arrested if I did.”
Matteo frowned.
“Arrested for what?”
Margaret looked toward the house.
“Elena's death.”
The words seemed to steal the air from the garden.
“What are you talking about?”
“Someone told me the original accident investigation could be reopened. They said there was evidence connecting you to what happened.”
Matteo stared at her.
“Did you believe I killed my wife?”
“No.”
“Then why did you help them?”
“Because I knew how it would look.”
Her voice cracked.
“You were fighting before she died. Everyone knew it.”
Matteo remembered.
Elena had wanted him to remove Oliver from the family business entirely.
He'd accused her of believing the worst about him.
Their last argument had been bitter.
He'd spent three years wishing he could take back the things he'd said.
Margaret touched his arm.
“I thought if I cooperated, they would leave you and Oliver alone.”
“They've been using your silence to hurt us.”
“I know that now.”
Matteo stepped away.
“Then help me stop them.”
Margaret looked at the coat in her hands.
“There's something I haven't told you about the night Elena died.”
Before she could continue, the garden doors opened.
Rebecca stood there, pale.
“Mr. Valenti, there are two sheriff's deputies outside.”
Matteo walked into the house.
Two uniformed deputies waited in the foyer.
The older officer introduced himself and presented a court order.
Matteo scanned the first page.
Emergency protective custody.
Allegations of unsafe conditions.
Claims that Rebecca had physically harmed Oliver.
A sworn statement from Margaret.
And a request for temporary guardianship.
Matteo looked up.
“This is based on false information.”
The deputy's expression was serious but not hostile.
“Sir, I'm here to carry out the judge's order. You'll have an opportunity to challenge it.”
“Where's my son supposed to go?”
The deputy pointed to the final page.
A temporary supervised placement had been authorized pending a hearing.
Matteo read the name of the proposed family guardian.
Margaret Valenti.
Behind him, Margaret let out a broken sound.
“I didn't agree to this.”
The deputy looked at her.
“Ma'am, your sworn affidavit is attached.”
Margaret shook her head.
“I signed a statement. Not this.”
Matteo examined the bottom of the order.
The judge's signature was genuine.
The emergency authorization had already taken effect.
From the staircase, Oliver called:
“Daddy? Why are the police here?”
The deputy looked toward the little boy.
“Mr. Valenti, I'm sorry.”
May you like
He held up the order.
“But we've been instructed to take your son into temporary protective custody.”
