Chapter 4 - THE DEAD WOMAN CALLINGNobody told Vanessa to answer.
She did anyway.
“Hello?”
Silence.
Her expression changed.
“Who is this?”
We could hear breathing through the speaker.
Then a woman spoke.
Older.
Weak.
“Vanessa.”
The phone slipped slightly in her hand.
“Who are you?”
“Your mother.”
Vanessa shook her head violently.
“No.”
Luca stepped closer.
The woman continued.
“I need you to leave the Moretti estate.”
“Stop.”
“Please.”
“My mother is dead.”
“I know what you were told.”
Vanessa’s face collapsed.
Luca took the phone.
“Who is this?”
The woman inhaled sharply.
“Luca?”
He froze.
“Who are you?”
“Someone who owes you the truth.”
“Where are you?”
The call ended.
For several seconds, no one spoke.
Then Luca called his security chief.
“Trace the number.”
Vanessa leaned against the workbench.
I had disliked her for months.
In that moment, I almost felt sorry for her.
Almost.
Because cruelty did not stop hurting simply because the cruel person had wounds of her own.
But wounds explained things.
Sometimes.
They did not excuse them.
Luca looked at Vanessa.
“When did your mother die?”
“Eleven years ago.”
“How?”
“Cancer.”
“Did you see her body?”
Vanessa stared at him.
“What kind of question is that?”
“A necessary one.”
“There was a closed casket.”
“Why?”
“She had been ill.”
“Vanessa.”
She looked away.
“I was nineteen.”
Luca softened slightly.
“Who arranged the funeral?”
“My father.”
“Where is he?”
“Florida.”
“Call him.”
“No.”
“Why?”
“Because I am not interrogating my father based on a prank call.”
Viktor stood.
“Sofia was frightened before your mother died.”
Vanessa looked at him.
“What?”
“She wanted to expose Luca’s father.”
Luca’s expression hardened.
“My father is dead.”
Viktor nodded.
“Seven years.”
“Then whatever he did died with him.”
“No.”
Viktor looked at the microfilm.
“Truth does not die because the guilty person does.”
The security chief entered.
“Mr. Moretti.”
“Yes?”
“The call came from a prepaid phone.”
“Location?”
“A motel outside Kenosha.”
Vanessa went still.
Wisconsin.
The same state Viktor had lived in for fourteen years.
Luca turned toward him.
Viktor looked genuinely confused.
“I know nothing about this.”
Luca studied him.
Then made a decision.
“We’re going.”
Vanessa stared.
“Tonight?”
“Yes.”
“That’s two hours away.”
“Then we have two hours to talk.”
She folded her arms.
“I’m not going.”
Luca nodded.
“Fine.”
His acceptance seemed to surprise her.
Then he turned to me.
“Emma.”
I almost laughed.
“Please don’t say my name.”
For the first time all night, Luca smiled.
“You started this.”
“I brought a guest to dinner.”
“You brought a twenty-six-year conspiracy to dinner.”
“I didn’t know he came with accessories.”
Viktor chuckled.
Even Vanessa nearly smiled.
Nearly.
Luca looked at me.
“I want you to come.”
“Why?”
“Because my mother’s letter just told me to pay attention to the people others ignore.”
He glanced toward Vanessa.
“And tonight you seem to be the only person in this family who ignored instructions for the right reason.”
That silenced me.
I thought about my father.
The therapy bill due Friday.
The job I could not afford to lose.
Then I thought about an old man holding a prune cake while someone told me he belonged in a kitchen.
“I’ll come.”
Vanessa grabbed her coat.
Apparently, she was coming too.
Two hours later, we reached the motel.
Room 17.
Luca knocked.
Nothing.
Again.
Nothing.
His security man opened the door.
The room was empty.
A lamp burned beside the bed.
Tea was still warm.
Someone had been there minutes earlier.
On the pillow lay a photograph.
Vanessa picked it up.
A woman stood outside a farmhouse.
Older.
Thin.
Gray-haired.
But unmistakable.
Vanessa whispered:
“Mom.”
On the back was an address.
And one sentence.
Ask Viktor why he helped me disappear.
Everyone turned toward the old gardener.
Viktor closed his eyes.
Then Luca spoke.
“You have ten seconds.”
May you like
Viktor sighed.
“I helped Sofia Bellini fake her death.”
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