Chapter 4 - THE WOMAN WHO KNEW TOO MUCH
Dante read the note three times.
Elena's handwriting.
There was no mistaking it.
Six years earlier, his sister had been found dead in a car at the bottom of a ravine outside Bellhaven. The police called it an accident. The investigation lasted eleven days.
Dante had never believed the official report.
But he had never found anything substantial enough to prove otherwise.
Now Grant Miller's name was sitting beside a photograph from Elena's private collection.
"Where did you find this?" Dante asked.
"In the archive of an old internal investigation. The woman is Rachel Hayes. She worked as a records clerk at the police department."
"Where is she?"
"Officially? Missing."
Dante closed the folder.
"Find her."
Norah woke shortly after sunrise.
For a moment, she didn't recognize the ceiling.
Then she remembered the bathroom, Grant's fist, and the man who had appeared at her door.
She sat up too quickly.
Pain tore through her side.
"Easy."
Dante was standing near the window.
She stared at him.
"You stayed?"
"Yes."
"Why?"
He pulled the chair closer but didn't sit until she nodded.
"Because you needed someone here."
Norah looked down at the blanket.
"You're not a doctor."
"No."
"You're not Tyler."
"No."
"Then who are you?"
Dante considered the question.
"Someone who answered his phone."
Despite everything, a small, broken laugh escaped her.
It turned into a wince.
"Don't make me laugh."
"I'll try to be less entertaining."
For the first time since the attack, Norah's shoulders relaxed slightly.
Then she remembered Grant.
"Where is he?"
"In police custody."
Her face went pale.
"That won't last."
"Why?"
"Because he knows people. He knows everyone. His supervisor plays golf with him. His captain came to our apartment for dinner. They'll believe him."
Dante said nothing.
Norah looked at him.
"You don't understand. He'll tell them I'm unstable. He'll say I attacked him. He'll say you kidnapped me."
"Let him."
"You think it's that simple?"
"No."
His voice was calm.
"That's why I'm making sure the truth is harder to bury."
Tyler arrived at 9:20 a.m.
He ran into the room without knocking.
"Norah!"
She began crying before he reached the bed.
Her brother wrapped his arms around her carefully, then pulled back when he noticed the bruising.
"Oh, God."
"I'm okay."
"Don't say that."
He looked at the medical monitor, the bandages, and the woman he had spent eight months begging to tell him the truth.
"Why didn't you call me?"
"I did."
Tyler froze.
"What?"
"I texted you last night."
He pulled out his phone.
There was no message.
Norah looked confused.
"I sent it."
Dante spoke from the doorway.
"She sent it to my number."
Tyler turned.
"And you are?"
"Dante Moretti."
Tyler's expression shifted.
He knew that name.
Everybody in Bellhaven knew that name, even people who pretended they didn't.
He stepped closer to Norah.
"Why is a Moretti here?"
Norah shook her head.
"He helped me."
Tyler looked between them.
Then he noticed the security men in the hallway.
"Helped you how?"
"Your sister needed an ambulance," Dante answered.
Tyler's jaw tightened.
"And now what? You expect us to owe you?"
Dante's expression remained neutral.
"No."
"Then why are you still here?"
Dante looked at Norah.
"That's her decision."
He left the room.
Tyler watched him go.
"Norah, what have you gotten yourself into?"
She looked toward the doorway.
"Nothing."
But she knew something had changed.
Because for the first time in eight months, Grant Miller wasn't the most powerful man in her life.
That afternoon, a nurse brought Norah a sealed envelope.
"Someone left this at the front desk."
Norah opened it.
Inside was a photograph of her standing outside the hospital entrance the previous evening.
On the back, someone had written:
YOU SHOULD HAVE DIED QUIETLY.
Her fingers went cold.
She looked up.
Across the room, Tyler was asleep in the visitor's chair.
Dante was nowhere to be seen.
She reached for her phone.
A new message appeared.
May you like
UNKNOWN NUMBER: Don't look toward the windows. Stay inside. I'm coming.
Then the hospital lights went out.
