Chapter 4 - The Sister Who Knew Too MuchMy sister called me at 2:13 in the morning.
I answered before the second ring.
“Natalie, where are you?”
A pause.
Then her voice.
“Marissa, don't go home.”
I looked at Dante.
He immediately signaled Vincent to begin tracing the call.
“Why?”
“Because Caleb knows about the box.”
My stomach tightened.
“How do you know Caleb?”
Another pause.
“Natalie.”
“I can't explain everything.”
“You were at my storage unit.”
Silence.
“Were you looking for Marcus's box?”
She began crying.
“Please listen to me.”
I gripped the phone.
“Then tell me the truth.”
“He told me he could help you.”
“Who?”
“Caleb.”
I closed my eyes.
Natalie was twenty-nine.
Three years younger than me.
She'd always been impulsive, always certain she could talk her way out of anything.
When our mother died, Natalie was still in college.
I helped pay her tuition.
When she lost her apartment, she slept on my couch.
When Marcus died, she came every morning for six weeks to make sure Sophie ate breakfast.
She wasn't perfect.
But she was my sister.
And I had trusted her with everything.
“What did he promise you?” I whispered.
“A better job. Enough money to help with your rent. He said Marcus had left behind documents that belonged to the hotel.”
“Why didn't you ask me?”
“Because he said you might be implicated if anyone found them.”
I felt physically sick.
“Natalie, where are you?”
“I'm near the river.”
“Which river?”
“Marissa, listen. I didn't give him the box.”
“Then what did you give him?”
Her breathing changed.
“The photograph.”
I looked at the photograph of Marcus and Elias Voss.
“What photograph?”
“The one Marcus gave me before the fire.”
My knees weakened.
“Marcus gave you something?”
“He made me promise not to tell you unless something happened.”
“Something did happen!”
The words exploded out of me.
Dante glanced toward the room where Sophie slept.
I lowered my voice.
“Natalie, Marcus died. You watched me bury him. You watched Sophie cry herself to sleep. And you kept something from me?”
“I thought I was protecting you.”
“From what?”
She sobbed.
“From the man who ordered the fire.”
Then the call ended.
I stared at the screen.
Dante was already moving.
“Vincent.”
“Working on it.”
“Get every camera within six blocks of the last signal.”
Vincent nodded.
Dante turned to me.
“Marissa, we need to get Sophie somewhere secure.”
“No.”
“Your sister may be in immediate danger.”
“Then we find her.”
“We will.”
“Don't say that like you're doing me a favor.”
His jaw tightened.
“I'm not.”
I stepped closer.
“People keep disappearing around you, Mr. Moretti. My husband. Elias Voss. Now maybe my sister.”
Dante accepted the accusation without flinching.
“That's why I'm going to find out who's responsible.”
“Even if it's someone you trust?”
His expression changed.
“Especially then.”
By dawn, Sophie and I were staying in a private residential suite on the Reserve's eighteenth floor.
Dante had offered a different hotel.
I refused.
I wanted to remain close to the investigation.
And I wanted to see Caleb Ross's face when someone finally caught him.
Sophie sat cross-legged on the bed, drawing another picture.
“Mommy?”
“Yes, baby?”
“Is Aunt Natalie lost?”
I sat beside her.
“We're trying to find her.”
Sophie considered that.
“Maybe Mister Moretti can help.”
“He's trying.”
“Good.”
She returned to her drawing.
I watched her small fingers move across the paper.
“Sweetheart, did Mr. Caleb ever ask you questions about Daddy?”
She nodded.
My chest tightened.
“What questions?”
“He asked if Daddy had a blue box.”
I went still.
“When?”
“Last week.”
“What did you tell him?”
“That blue is my favorite color.”
Despite everything, I almost smiled.
“Did he ask anything else?”
“He asked if I remembered the fire.”
I pulled her into my arms.
“Why didn't you tell me?”
“Because he said it was a surprise.”
The word made me furious.
A grown man had manipulated a child.
My child.
I held Sophie until she wriggled free.
Then she showed me her drawing.
A building.
A red truck.
Three stick figures.
One figure wore a gray coat.
Another had yellow hair.
The third was smaller.
“Who's that?” I asked.
“The gray man and the lady.”
“What lady?”
“The one who was with him by the laundry door.”
I stared at the yellow-haired figure.
“Do you know her?”
Sophie nodded.
“She wears pretty earrings.”
“What kind?”
“Like little diamonds.”
A memory surfaced.
Caleb's executive assistant.
Vanessa Reed.
Blonde.
Always wearing diamond-shaped earrings.
She had worked at the hotel for nine months.
And she had abruptly resigned three days earlier.
I reached for my phone.
Before I could call Vincent, someone knocked.
Dante entered carrying two paper bags.
“Breakfast.”
Sophie brightened.
“Pancakes?”
“Blueberry.”
“Do they look like bears?”
Dante hesitated.
“I didn't specify the shape.”
Sophie sighed.
“Grown-ups never think of important things.”
For the first time that morning, Dante laughed.
A real laugh.
Low and surprised.
Then he noticed my expression.
“What happened?”
I showed him the drawing.
He studied it.
“Vanessa Reed.”
“You know her?”
“She worked for Caleb.”
“She may have been with Elias.”
Dante took out his phone.
“Vincent, locate Vanessa Reed.”
He listened.
Then his expression changed.
“What do you mean she's dead?”
I felt the room contract.
He turned away from Sophie.
“When?”
Another pause.
“Where?”
Dante lowered the phone.
“Vanessa was found in her apartment early this morning.”
“Was she murdered?”
“We don't know yet.”
But his face told me he suspected the answer.
Sophie was watching us.
“Is the pretty lady sick?”
Dante knelt beside her.
“We're going to let the doctors find out what happened.”
She nodded.
Then she pointed at the drawing.
“She was scared, too.”
Dante looked up.
“What makes you say that?”
“Because she told the gray man she wanted to go home.”
I swallowed.
“And what did he say?”
Sophie looked confused.
“He didn't say anything.”
“Did anyone else speak?”
She nodded.
“The man behind the door.”
Dante leaned closer.
“What did he say?”
Sophie whispered the words carefully.
“He said, 'You should've let the cook burn.'”
The room went completely still.
Dante's face lost its color.
I looked at him.
“Who said that?”
He didn't answer.
“Dante.”
His eyes met mine.
For the first time, I saw genuine fear in them.
Not fear for himself.
Fear of what he had just understood.
“That sentence,” he said slowly, “was in an anonymous message I received the night Marcus died.”
I couldn't breathe.
“What message?”
Dante looked toward Vincent, who had appeared in the doorway.
Then he spoke.
“Someone warned me that a cook had discovered the financial records.”
My voice trembled.
“And you did nothing?”
“I sent someone to bring him to safety.”
“Who?”
Dante closed his eyes briefly.
Then he answered.
“Caleb Ross.”
The man who had pretended to protect my job.
The man who knew where my daughter slept.
The man who had offered my sister money.
He hadn't just known about Marcus's death.
He had been there before it happened.
And when Dante's phone rang again, the caller ID displayed a number nobody in the room expected.
Natalie.
Dante answered on speaker.
But it wasn't my sister's voice.
It was Caleb's.
“Good morning, Mr. Moretti.”
A faint metallic sound echoed behind him.
Then Natalie screamed.
Caleb continued calmly.
“If you want the sister alive, bring me the original drive.”
May you like
He paused.
“And this time, don't send Vincent Russo.”
Related Stories
