Chapter 6 - THE MAN WHO SIGNED THE PAPERS
Nobody spoke.
Ivy stared at the photograph, searching the woman's face for something familiar. The image was grainy, its corners yellowed with age, but the woman was unmistakably her mother.
She looked younger than Ivy had ever known her, her hair falling loosely over her shoulders. In her arms rested a newborn wrapped in a white blanket.
Carmine stood beside her.
He looked younger, too, but the coldness in his eyes was already there.
Ivy turned toward him.
“Why were you at the hospital when I was born?”
Carmine looked at the photograph as if it had become something dangerous.
“I don't remember that night.”
“You expect me to believe that?”
“No.” He met her eyes. “I expect you to ask questions until we find the truth.”
Hale rose from his chair.
“I can explain the paperwork.”
“Sit down,” Carmine said.
The accountant hesitated, then obeyed.
“The payments Rocco mentioned were authorized through a private account established shortly before Elena's death,” Hale explained. “The account was originally intended to cover medical expenses for someone under protection.”
“Who?” Ivy demanded.
Hale looked at Carmine.
Carmine's expression darkened.
“Answer her.”
“The account was established for Ivy's mother.”
The words struck Ivy harder than she expected.
“My mother received money from your organization?”
“Apparently.”
“She worked two jobs. She sold her jewelry to pay hospital bills. She went without medication because she couldn't afford it.” Ivy's voice broke. “If someone was paying for her care, why did she die owing fifty thousand dollars?”
Hale folded his hands.
“Because the money stopped.”
“Who stopped it?”
“I don't know.”
“You're the accountant.”
“I know how the payments were recorded. I don't know who gave the final instruction.”
Carmine walked to the window, his hands clenched at his sides.
“Find out.”
Hale gathered the documents.
“I'll need access to the archived records.”
“You have it.”
“And if the trail leads somewhere inconvenient?”
Carmine turned.
“Then you'll have the privilege of explaining it to me.”
Hale left.
Rocco remained between the guards.
Ivy barely noticed him.
She was looking at Carmine, at the man who had promised her protection while holding pieces of her mother's life in his hands.
“Did you know about me?”
He took a long time to answer.
“I knew Elena was helping a woman. I didn't know the woman's identity until after Elena died. By then, the records had been altered, and the woman had disappeared from the hospital.”
“My mother didn't disappear. She went home to raise her daughter.”
“I understand that now.”
“No, you don't.” Ivy stood. “You have people to find things for you. People to pay your bills. People who can make problems vanish. My mother had to decide which bill she could ignore so she could buy groceries.”
Carmine accepted the anger without looking away.
“I can't change what happened to her.”
“Then stop acting as though protecting me now makes everything right.”
She left before he could respond.
In the corridor, Mrs. Bennett waited with a cup of tea. She said nothing, simply falling into step beside Ivy.
For the next two days, Ivy avoided Carmine.
She went to her medical appointments, rested when she could, and answered the investigators' questions about her mother's life. She also contacted the hospital's records department herself.
The first response was predictable.
The records were incomplete.
The second was not.
A retired nurse named Margaret Lewis called her privately.
“I remember your mother,” Margaret said. “She came to the hospital several times after Elena died. She was frightened. She asked me whether anyone could access the maternity records without leaving a trace.”
“Why would she ask that?”
“I never found out. But she gave me something to hold for her.”
“What?”
“A sealed envelope. She told me to keep it until someone came looking for the baby.”
Ivy gripped the phone.
“Did anyone come?”
“Yes. A man came three years ago. He showed me credentials and said he represented the family. I gave him the envelope because I thought I was following the proper procedure.”
“Who was he?”
“I didn't know his name then. But I remember his face.”
Margaret sent a photograph a few minutes later.
Ivy opened it.
The man stood outside the hospital entrance, wearing a charcoal suit and carrying a leather briefcase.
Victor Hale.
That evening, Ivy went straight to Carmine's study.
He was alone.
She placed the photograph on his desk.
“Your accountant took something from the hospital three years ago. Something my mother left behind.”
Carmine studied the image.
Then he opened a drawer and removed a small recorder.
“We found this in Hale's office an hour ago. He left the estate without permission.”
He pressed PLAY.
A man's voice emerged through the speaker.
Victor Hale.
“If the girl discovers her parentage, the entire arrangement collapses. Keep Rocco away from her until I have the original document.”
A second voice answered.
“What's your plan?”
Hale's reply was almost inaudible.
“I intend to make sure the girl never learns which Bellandi she's connected to.”
The recording ended.
Ivy stared at Carmine.
“Which Bellandi?”
He didn't answer.
Instead, he picked up his phone and called security.
“Find Hale. Lock down the estate. Nobody leaves without my authorization.”
Then he turned to Ivy.
“There is something else I need to tell you.”
His expression was grave.
“Your mother wasn't the only person who received payments from that account.”
“Who else?”
Carmine looked toward the dark window.
“Elena.”
Before Ivy could ask another question, the study lights went out.
A gunshot shattered the glass.
May you like
Carmine threw himself between Ivy and the window as the bullet struck the bookcase behind them.
And in the darkness, someone inside the house shouted Carmine's name.
