Chapter 3 - THE MAN WHO SAW HER DIE
DOMINIC HAD SPENT FOUR YEARS BELIEVING HIS WIFE DIED IN A HIGHWAY ACCIDENT. BUT THE MAN WHO HAD IDENTIFIED HER BODY WAS STILL ALIVE—AND SOMEONE HAD JUST PAID HIM TO INVESTIGATE HIS DAUGHTER.
“Marcus Vale is dead.”
Dominic's voice was flat.
Caleb stood across the kitchen island.
“That's what we were told.”
“I attended his memorial.”
“There was no body.”
Dominic looked at the photograph attached to the investigator's letter.
Marcus Vale.
Forty-six.
Former police detective.
Former private investigator.
And once, Dominic's closest friend.
Four years earlier, Marcus had called Dominic from a hospital outside Albany.
He had said Isabella's car had gone off the road.
There had been a fire.
By the time Dominic arrived, his wife's body had already been transferred to a restricted examination room.
Marcus had handled the identification.
Dominic remembered the white sheet.
The wedding ring.
The terrible smell of smoke.
He remembered refusing to look beneath the sheet.
And he remembered Marcus putting a hand on his shoulder.
I'm sorry, Dom. She's gone.
Two months later, Marcus vanished.
His abandoned car was found near the Hudson River.
Police presumed he had drowned.
Now his signature appeared on an investigation commissioned by Vanessa Sterling.
Dominic looked at Caleb.
“Find him.”
Caleb nodded.
“I've already started.”
“Quietly.”
“Understood.”
Dominic turned toward Sophie.
She had been listening from the doorway.
“Go upstairs. Stay with Emma.”
Sophie hesitated.
“Sir, is someone trying to hurt her?”
Dominic considered lying.
But after what Emma had endured, he couldn't bear another lie in his home.
“I don't know.”
Sophie's face tightened.
“Then please don't let her leave this house with anyone.”
“I won't.”
At 7:15 the next morning, Dominic found Emma sitting at the breakfast table.
Sophie had prepared pancakes.
Emma wore yellow pajamas.
Her hair was messy.
There was syrup on her cheek.
Dominic stopped in the doorway.
For years, breakfast had been something he grabbed between phone calls.
Now he realized he couldn't remember the last time he'd watched his daughter eat.
“Morning, princess.”
Emma looked up.
“Daddy!”
She climbed down and ran to him.
He lifted her into his arms.
“Did you sleep okay?”
She nodded.
“The door stayed open.”
“Good.”
“And Sophie stayed until I fell asleep.”
Dominic looked at the maid.
“Thank you.”
Sophie smiled faintly.
Emma touched his collar.
“Are you going to work?”
“Not today.”
Her eyes widened.
“Can we make pancakes together tomorrow?”
“We can make them today.”
Emma giggled.
“But Sophie already did!”
“Then tomorrow too.”
For a moment, Dominic almost felt normal.
Then Caleb entered.
“Sir. We have a visitor.”
Dominic set Emma down.
“Who?”
“Your attorney. And someone from Ashcroft Academy.”
The warmth disappeared.
The woman waiting in Dominic's study introduced herself as Dr. Helen Pierce.
She was the academy's admissions director.
Gray-haired.
Carefully dressed.
Uncomfortable.
“Mr. Moretti, I came personally because the circumstances surrounding your daughter's application are highly irregular.”
Dominic folded his arms.
“That's one way to describe fraud.”
Dr. Pierce nodded.
“We've suspended the enrollment process and secured the records.”
“Good.”
“But there's something you need to understand.”
She opened a leather folder.
“Miss Sterling didn't present herself as merely your fiancée.”
Dominic frowned.
“What did she present herself as?”
“Emma's prospective legal guardian.”
The room went silent.
His attorney, Daniel Brooks, leaned forward.
“On what basis?”
Dr. Pierce removed another document.
“An anticipated guardianship petition.”
Dominic read it.
Vanessa had alleged that Dominic's frequent absences and dangerous professional associations made him incapable of providing consistent parental care.
The petition had not been filed.
But someone had drafted it.
And attached statements from household employees.
Dominic recognized two names.
Both employees had resigned the previous month.
“Where are these people?” he asked.
Caleb answered.
“I'm locating them.”
Daniel examined the document.
“This isn't a custody order. It doesn't give her any rights.”
“I know,” Dominic said.
“But she was building a case.”
Dr. Pierce nodded.
“She repeatedly told us you were aware of the plan.”
Dominic's jaw tightened.
“Did she mention Sophie Bennett?”
The director hesitated.
“Yes.”
“What did she say?”
“That Miss Bennett was emotionally unstable and had developed an unhealthy attachment to Emma.”
Dominic stared at her.
“That's the woman who kept my daughter from being locked in her bedroom.”
Dr. Pierce lowered her eyes.
“I understand that now.”
Then she handed him a sealed envelope.
“Miss Sterling instructed us to place this in Emma's file.”
Dominic opened it.
Inside was a letter supposedly written by Emma.
The handwriting was neat.
Adult.
Nothing like the crooked letters in the little blue notebook.
I want to go to Ashcroft because I don't feel safe at home.
Dominic felt sick.
Someone had written a false statement in his daughter's name.
He turned to Daniel.
“Preserve every document.”
“Already arranging it.”
Dr. Pierce stood.
“Mr. Moretti, there's one more thing.”
Dominic looked up.
“Miss Sterling wasn't the only person who visited our campus.”
“Who else?”
“A man claiming to represent your late wife's family.”
Dominic froze.
“Isabella had no surviving immediate family.”
The director reached into her folder.
“He gave us a business card.”
Dominic accepted it.
There was no company name.
Only a telephone number.
And two words.
MARCUS VALE.
That afternoon, Caleb found Marcus.
Not in New York.
Not in New Jersey.
But in a small town outside Philadelphia.
He was living under another name.
Working as a night security guard.
Caleb sent Dominic a photograph.
Marcus stood outside a grocery store, carrying a paper bag.
Older.
Thinner.
But unmistakably alive.
Dominic stared at the image.
“Bring him in.”
Caleb hesitated.
“Sir, he may run.”
“Then don't give him the chance.”
At 9:40 that evening, Dominic received a call from an unknown number.
He answered.
“Moretti.”
A familiar voice spoke.
“Don't send Caleb.”
Dominic stopped breathing.
“Marcus.”
“Listen carefully.”
“Where have you been?”
“Trying to stay alive.”
Dominic gripped the phone.
“You told me my wife was dead.”
Silence.
Then Marcus said something Dominic would never forget.
“I told you what they ordered me to tell you.”
Dominic closed his eyes.
“Who ordered you?”
“Your wife was supposed to disappear quietly.”
“What?”
“The accident wasn't an accident, Dominic.”
Dominic stood.
“Where is Isabella?”
Marcus's breathing became uneven.
“I don't know anymore.”
“Anymore?”
“I knew where she was four years ago.”
Dominic felt the floor shift beneath him.
“Marcus. Tell me where my wife is.”
A door slammed on the other end.
Marcus whispered:
“They found me.”
Then came a sharp crash.
A struggle.
And a woman's voice.
“Give me the phone.”
Dominic went completely still.
He knew that voice.
He had heard it in his dreams for four years.
“ISABELLA?”
May you like
The line went dead.
END OF CHAPTER 3
