Chapter 6 - The Murder Nobody ReportedThe agents separated us into different rooms at a federal building downtown.
They were polite, but they weren't interested in the emotional reunion that had taken place on the porch. They wanted dates, names, signatures, financial records, and a clear account of the accident.
Lorenzo's attorney arrived within the hour.
I sat across from Special Agent Daniel Reeves, a man in his early forties with tired eyes and a calm voice.
“You're not under arrest,” he told me. “But your name appears in a set of documents connected to an unsolved homicide.”
“What homicide?”
He opened a folder.
“Marianne's attending physician at the rehabilitation facility died in 2011. The death was ruled an accidental overdose. Recently recovered financial records suggest that the doctor had been preparing to testify about illegal confinement and falsified medical records.”
I stared at him.
“Why would my name be connected to that?”
“Your birth name appears on a letter found among his belongings. The letter was dated six months before his death.”
He slid a copy across the table.
The handwriting was unfamiliar, but the words were clear.
The girl is safe with the Hayes family. Isabella has done what she promised. The boy remains with Foster. Marianne must never learn the truth until the records are secured.
I looked up.
“Who wrote this?”
“We're still verifying that.”
“Does it say Isabella arranged the adoption?”
“It suggests she was involved.”
“Then why am I being questioned?”
“Because the letter was found in a file that also contained an unsigned statement claiming that Anna Vitale witnessed the events surrounding the accident.”
My stomach tightened.
“I was three years old.”
“That's why we don't believe the statement is accurate. Someone may have used your name.”
He leaned forward.
“Emma, did anyone ever tell you that you witnessed something at the crash scene?”
“No.”
“Did you ever receive a letter or package from someone connected to the Vitale family before you took the job?”
I thought about my adoptive parents' home. The boxes in the attic. The paperwork they kept in a locked drawer.
“My parents received a letter when I was eighteen,” I said slowly. “They never showed it to me. They told me it was a routine inquiry from the adoption agency.”
Reeves made a note.
“Do you remember the sender?”
“No.”
He closed the folder.
“Please ask your parents whether they still have it. Don't confront anyone or attempt to retrieve evidence yourself. Let us handle that.”
When I left the room, Lorenzo was waiting in the hallway.
“What did they ask you?”
I told him.
His expression hardened at the mention of the letter.
“Your parents may have been given information they never understood.”
“I don't want to think they knew.”
“Then don't assume they did.”
He said it gently, but I could hear the effort behind the words.
Marianne had been released to a protected location while the agents verified her account. Gabriel stayed with her. Ethan arrived later that evening, and when he saw Marianne, he stood in the doorway as if afraid she might vanish if he moved.
She reached for him.
“My boy.”
He crossed the room and knelt beside her chair.
“I don't know what to call you.”
“You don't have to call me anything today.”
He looked down.
“I spent my whole life trying to be the kind of son Edward wanted.”
Marianne touched his cheek.
“You were a child. You were never responsible for his lies.”
Ethan broke down.
She held him while he cried.
Lorenzo watched them from the hallway, his hands clenched at his sides.
“What is it?” I asked.
He shook his head.
“I keep thinking about all the family dinners. All the birthdays. Every time my father told us Gabriel was dead, every time Aunt Isabella insisted Rose was confused.”
He looked at me.
“How many people knew?”
“We may never know.”
He nodded.
“Then we'll prove what we can.”
That night, the FBI recovered additional records from a storage facility linked to Edward Foster. Among them were copies of the adoption authorizations, bank transfers, and a ledger showing payments to Victor's former security chief.
One payment had been made two days before the 2008 crash.
Another had been made the day after.
The recipient's name was blacked out in the copy Reeves showed Lorenzo.
But the account number matched one connected to Isabella.
Lorenzo stared at it.
“Why was my aunt paying Victor's security chief?”
Reeves folded his hands.
“That is what we're trying to establish.”
Lorenzo's voice sharpened.
“You think Isabella arranged the accident?”
“We don't have enough evidence to say that.”
“Then what do you have?”
Reeves looked at him.
“We have evidence that someone planned to remove the twins from their parents before the crash. We have evidence that the crash was followed by falsified medical records and illegal placements. And we have evidence that a physician who knew the truth died under suspicious circumstances.”
Lorenzo sat back.
The investigator continued.
“We also have something else.”
He placed a photograph on the table.
A man stood beside the damaged car in 2008, his face partially obscured by an ambulance door.
The scar across his jaw was visible.
Gabriel.
But the second man in the photograph was even more disturbing.
He wore a dark coat and stood near the driver's side.
Lorenzo recognized him immediately.
So did I.
It was Michael, Lorenzo's current head of security.
The same man who had served the Vitale family for decades.
The same man who had delivered the first records about Anna.
Lorenzo stared at the photograph.
“Michael was there.”
Reeves nodded.
“He was twenty-six at the time. He says he was ordered to secure the scene and had no knowledge of the plan.”
Lorenzo's face hardened.
“Did he know Gabriel was alive?”
“We're investigating that.”
Lorenzo stood.
“I want to speak to him.”
Reeves blocked the door.
“Not without your attorney present.”
Lorenzo's eyes went cold.
For a moment, I saw the man people feared in Chicago.
Then he looked at me, took a breath, and stepped back.
“Fine.”
But when we reached the parking garage, his phone rang.
Michael's name appeared on the screen.
Lorenzo answered.
“Where are you?”
Michael's voice was strained.
“Sir, you need to come to the mansion.”
“Why?”
“Because someone has been in your mother's room.”
Lorenzo froze.
“Is Rose safe?”
“Yes. But the nursery has been opened.”
A pause.
Then Michael added:
“Someone left a photograph on the bed.”
“What photograph?”
“Your father.”
May you like
Another pause.
“Standing beside Marianne. Three days before the accident.”
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