Chapter 2 - THE BOTTLE IN THE MAID’S ROOM
“Your daughter may have saved my life, Mrs. Rossi. But someone has been trying to end it.”
Dominic Moretti stood in his private study, staring at the preliminary laboratory report Raphael Costa had placed on his desk.
It was nearly six that evening.
Outside, the Chicago sky had turned the color of steel.
Inside, Elena Rossi stood trembling beside the fireplace.
Raphael had just informed her that a dangerous substance had been discovered in Dominic's orange juice.
And now he was looking at her as though she had personally poured it.
“The laboratory identified a heart-affecting medication,” Raphael said. “One that Mr. Moretti has never been prescribed.”
Elena pressed a hand against her chest.
“That doesn't mean I put it there.”
“You prepared the juice.”
“Yes.”
“You carried the glass into the dining room.”
“Yes.”
“And you're the last person we can verify handling it before Mr. Moretti.”
Elena swallowed.
“Then someone got to it before me.”
Raphael opened a folder.
“We checked the kitchen inventory. No unusual medication was found there.”
Dominic remained silent.
Earlier that afternoon, his physician had ordered blood tests after hearing about his headaches and dizziness.
The doctor had warned that the symptoms were consistent with repeated exposure to certain medications.
It wasn't proof yet.
But it was enough to make Dominic wonder how many mornings he'd unknowingly swallowed something dangerous.
Raphael placed a photograph on the desk.
Elena froze.
The photograph showed a small blue medicine bottle wrapped in a white handkerchief.
“We found this in your room.”
Her lips parted.
“Where?”
“Inside your linen cabinet.”
Elena took one stumbling step forward.
“That bottle belonged to my husband.”
Dominic looked up.
“The husband Lily mentioned?”
“Yes. Mateo.”
Raphael crossed his arms.
“Your husband died ten months ago.”
Elena nodded.
“Then why are you keeping his medicine?”
“Because I never believed his death was natural.”
The room fell silent.
Dominic slowly closed the laboratory report.
“Explain.”
Elena stared at the photograph.
“My husband was thirty-five. He worked long hours, but he was healthy. Then he started getting headaches. He was dizzy all the time.”
Dominic felt something tighten in his stomach.
“The same symptoms?”
“I don't know, Mr. Moretti. But he started taking those drops after a doctor told him they would help him sleep.”
Her voice cracked.
“Three weeks later, he was dead.”
Raphael studied her carefully.
“Why didn't you tell the authorities?”
“I did. They told me his heart had failed.”
“And you didn't believe them?”
Elena shook her head.
“Because the night before he died, Mateo told me there was something wrong with his medicine.”
Dominic stood.
“What did he mean?”
“He said the bottle smelled like something he'd seen at work. He was frightened. I'd never seen him frightened before.”
Raphael moved toward the door.
“I want Mrs. Rossi's room searched again.”
Elena turned sharply.
“No!”
Dominic's eyes narrowed.
“Why not?”
“My daughter is sleeping in there.”
“We won't disturb her,” Dominic said.
But Elena wasn't reassured.
“Please. Lily has already lost her father. Don't let her wake up with strangers searching through his things.”
Something in those words stopped Dominic.
He remembered the little girl clutching her rabbit that morning.
The way she'd warned him without hesitation.
The way she'd looked relieved when he'd listened.
“Raphael,” he said quietly, “you will not touch anything belonging to that child.”
Raphael nodded.
“Understood.”
Twenty minutes later, Dominic accompanied Elena to the staff wing.
Lily was awake, sitting on her bed with her stuffed rabbit.
“Mommy?”
Elena hurried to her.
“I'm here, sweetheart.”
Lily noticed Dominic behind her.
“Mister Dominic.”
“Hello, Lily.”
“Did you drink the bad juice?”
“No. I listened to you.”
She smiled.
Then she noticed the blue bottle Raphael was holding inside a transparent evidence bag.
Her smile disappeared.
“That's not Daddy's.”
Everyone stopped.
Elena looked at her daughter.
“What, honey?”
Lily pointed.
“Daddy's bottle had a broken little corner.”
Raphael examined the glass.
The bottle in his hand was completely undamaged.
Dominic looked at Elena.
“Are you certain you kept the original bottle?”
“Yes. I wrapped it myself.”
Raphael inspected the label.
Then his expression changed.
“What is it?” Dominic asked.
Raphael turned the bottle toward the light.
A small printed batch date appeared near the bottom.
“This medicine was packaged four months ago.”
Elena stared at him.
“My husband died ten months ago.”
For the first time that evening, Raphael looked uncertain.
Someone had planted the bottle.
But who?
And why had they chosen Elena?
Dominic turned toward the small cardboard box beside Lily's bed.
“What's in there?”
Elena hesitated.
“My husband's belongings.”
Inside were a folded brown work coat, a cracked leather wallet, and an old photograph.
Dominic picked up the photograph.
A smiling man stood in front of an industrial warehouse, holding a younger Lily in his arms.
He wore a dark-blue jacket.
On the breast pocket was a familiar embroidered emblem.
MORETTI FREIGHT SERVICES.
Dominic stared at it.
“Your husband worked for my company?”
Elena's eyes filled with tears.
“Yes.”
“Why didn't you tell me?”
“Because I needed this job. And because I needed to find out what happened to him.”
Dominic looked from the photograph to her face.
Elena took a shaky breath.
“Mr. Moretti, the night before Mateo died, he told me something I've never forgotten.”
“What?”
“He said he'd found out why certain men at the docks were getting sick.”
She glanced at Lily.
May you like
Then back at Dominic.
“And he said the people responsible worked for you.”
