Chapter 7 - The Woman Who Smiled
Bianca Salvi had spent six months convincing Elena that she was sleeping with Dante Moretti.
Now she was offering to return Elena's kidnapped father.
The contradiction was so enormous that Elena couldn't stop thinking about it.
At 6:15 the following morning, Detective Shaw arranged a secure meeting in a conference room at the Salem police station.
Dante sat opposite Elena.
Neither had slept.
Shaw placed the anonymous photograph between them.
"Let's establish what we know. Bianca was present when your father was photographed. That doesn't necessarily mean she's controlling the kidnapping."
Dante shook his head.
"Bianca has been manipulating me for months."
"How?"
"She claimed Samuel Pierce was involved in Anthony's death. She offered evidence in exchange for my help settling her father's estate."
"And you believed her?"
"Some of what she showed me was real."
Elena looked at him.
"Did she ask you to leave me?"
Dante hesitated.
"No."
"Did she suggest our marriage was interfering with your investigation?"
"Yes."
Elena gave a bitter smile.
"There it is."
Dante leaned forward.
"Elena, I never wanted her."
"Wanting her wasn't the only way you betrayed me."
He looked down.
Shaw allowed the silence to settle.
Then she turned to Elena.
"We're preparing a controlled response. If Bianca contacts you directly, we need to know immediately."
Elena nodded.
"What about my father?"
"We're pursuing every lead."
"He's sixty-three. He has arthritis. He takes medication for his blood pressure."
"I understand."
"No, Detective. You understand the investigation. I'm telling you about the man."
Shaw's expression softened.
"Then tell me everything that could help us keep him alive."
Elena took a breath.
"My father is stubborn. If someone threatens him, he'll probably make a joke. If he's frightened, he gets very quiet. And if anyone tries to use me against him, he'll do something reckless."
She swallowed.
"He spent twenty years teaching me not to be afraid of powerful men."
Dante lowered his head.
Elena continued.
"I need you to bring him home."
Shaw nodded.
"We're going to try."
That afternoon, Elena received a video call from an unknown number.
She was in a hospital consultation room, completing a follow-up examination, when her phone illuminated.
Bianca's face appeared.
Her blonde hair was pulled into a loose knot.
She looked exhausted.
"Elena."
Elena's body went rigid.
"Where's my father?"
"Alive."
"Let me speak to him."
"I can't."
"Then this conversation is over."
"Wait."
Elena held the phone.
Bianca looked over her shoulder.
For the first time, Elena noticed a bruise near Bianca's collarbone.
"What happened to you?"
Bianca gave a humorless laugh.
"You still notice things other people miss."
"Where is my father?"
"Samuel has him."
Elena went cold.
"You were standing beside him."
"Because Samuel wanted you to think I was responsible."
"Why should I believe anything you say?"
"You shouldn't."
The answer surprised her.
Bianca leaned closer.
"But you need to understand something. Samuel doesn't want your father's money. He wants the statement Michael signed for Anthony."
"The police already know about it."
"They don't have the original."
"Why does that matter?"
"Because Anthony recorded a meeting where Samuel admitted what those containers were being used for. Michael's statement identifies the equipment and dates. Together, they prove Samuel knew exactly what was happening."
Elena's heart pounded.
"Then give the recording to the police."
"I don't have it."
"Who does?"
Bianca hesitated.
"Anthony hid it before he died."
"Where?"
"I don't know."
Elena stared at her.
"You expect me to believe you don't know?"
Bianca's eyes filled.
"I knew Anthony better than you think."
Something in her voice changed the air between them.
Elena remembered the funeral.
Bianca standing near the back of the chapel.
Her eyes swollen.
Her hands shaking.
At the time, Elena had assumed Bianca was grieving her father, who had died shortly before Anthony.
Now she wondered.
"Were you involved with Anthony?"
Bianca closed her eyes.
"Yes."
Elena stared.
"For how long?"
"Almost two years."
"Did Dante know?"
"No."
"Why not?"
"Because our fathers had been business partners, and Anthony knew Dante would see our relationship as another way the Salvi family could influence him."
Elena tried to absorb it.
"Did you love him?"
Bianca began crying.
"More than anything."
For several seconds, neither spoke.
Then Elena asked the question that mattered.
"Why did you try to destroy my marriage?"
Bianca wiped her face.
"Because Samuel told me Dante ordered Anthony's death."
Elena stopped breathing.
"He showed me documents. Payments. Messages. I believed him."
"And you wanted revenge."
"Yes."
"So you decided to hurt me?"
Bianca nodded.
"I thought if Dante lost the person he loved most, he'd understand what he'd taken from me."
Elena felt something cold settle inside her.
"You watched me standing in the rain, six months pregnant, begging my husband to defend me."
"I know."
"You smiled."
Bianca covered her mouth.
"I'm sorry."
Elena's voice remained steady.
"Your grief explains what you did. It doesn't excuse it."
Bianca lowered her head.
"I know."
"Where is my father?"
Bianca looked toward the door again.
"Samuel moved him to an old cold-storage facility near Gloucester. I don't know which one."
"Tell the police."
"I can't trust anyone around Samuel."
"Then trust me enough to give me something useful."
Bianca hesitated.
"Anthony had a nickname for the place where he kept important things."
"What nickname?"
"The lighthouse."
Elena frowned.
"Which lighthouse?"
"I don't know. He said it was somewhere he could always find his way home."
A door slammed in Bianca's background.
Her face changed.
"Elena, I have to go."
"Wait."
"One more thing."
Bianca leaned closer.
"The person who told Marcus Bell to attack your car wasn't Samuel."
Elena went still.
"Who was it?"
Bianca opened her mouth.
A man's voice sounded behind her.
"Give me the phone."
Bianca turned.
The screen jolted.
For half a second, Elena saw a man's face.
She recognized him.
Not from Dante's organization.
Not from the docks.
From her own wedding photographs.
The man had stood beside Dante as his best man.
His oldest friend.
His operations manager.
May you like
Vincent Caruso.
Then the screen went black.
