Chapter 9 - The Woman in the Photograph
Matthew read the sentence until the words seemed to lose their meaning.
His brother had survived the first attempt.
The message didn't say Anthony had survived the accident. It said the first attempt.
Which meant someone might have tried to kill him before the crash.
Or someone wanted Matthew to believe that.
"Where did you get this photograph?" he asked Sophia.
"From Mom's old jewelry box. I thought it was just a picture of her at work."
Matthew sat down slowly.
Sophia's mother, Elena Sacco, had been declared dead after the accident on Mulholland Drive. Her body had been identified through dental records, and the case had been closed.
Matthew had attended her funeral.
He had stood beside Sophia while the girl cried into his jacket.
He had promised to protect her.
Now he wondered whether he had buried the wrong woman.
Clara took the photograph and examined the background.
A sign above the storage facility listed the street address. The date placed Elena there three months after the accident.
There was no question about the location.
But the photograph could have been altered, and the message could have been written by anyone.
They needed evidence.
Matthew called the detective who had handled the original investigation.
The detective refused to discuss the case over the phone.
That night, someone broke into Matthew's office.
Nothing valuable was taken.
Instead, the intruder left a single object on his desk.
Anthony's wedding ring.
Matthew recognized it immediately.
He had given it to his sister-in-law after the funeral, believing it had been recovered from the wreckage.
Now it lay in front of him, polished and unmarked.
Beneath it was a note.
Stop searching for the dead. Find the living.
Clara was at the estate when Matthew received the note.
She had stayed because Sophia was terrified and because leaving felt impossible while so many questions remained unanswered.
Matthew showed her the ring.
"Do you believe Elena is alive?" she asked.
"I believe someone wants me to think she is."
"Those aren't the same thing."
"No."
He rubbed his thumb across the ring.
"Anthony used to wear it even when he was working. He said it reminded him that there was one place where he didn't have to pretend to be someone else."
Clara understood the feeling.
Her father had worn the same old watch for thirty years, even after the strap had cracked.
Some objects became precious not because they were expensive, but because they carried the people we were afraid of losing.
"Matthew," she said quietly, "what happens if we discover that your family has been lying to you for years?"
He looked at her.
"Then I stop allowing them to."
"And if the truth destroys the organization?"
He took a long breath.
"Then the organization should have been destroyed."
Clara studied him.
She had begun to see the difference between the man he had been and the man he was trying to become.
It didn't erase his past.
But it made the future less certain.
And, unexpectedly, it made her want to stand beside him.
She stepped closer.
"I don't want you to change because you think it'll make me love you."
Matthew's expression softened.
"That's fortunate. I've never been good at doing things for the right reasons."
"I'm serious."
"So am I."
He looked at her for a long moment.
"I don't know what this is between us. I know I think about you when I should be thinking about business. I know that when you walk into a room, I notice whether you're comfortable before I notice anything else. And I know that if you asked me to leave you alone, I'd have to do it, even if it broke something in me."
Clara's eyes stung.
"That's the first thing you've said that doesn't sound like a threat."
A faint smile touched his mouth.
"I'm trying."
She reached for his hand.
It was a small gesture.
For Matthew Sacco, it felt like the most dangerous thing that had happened all year.
He turned his palm upward and held hers gently.
Then a phone rang in the adjoining room.
Luca's number appeared on the screen.
Matthew answered.
"Where are you?"
"At the port," Luca replied. His voice sounded strained. "I found something."
"What?"
"The vehicle records from the night Anthony died. Someone changed the maintenance log after the crash."
"Who?"
A pause.
Then Luca said, "Richard Hale."
Matthew closed his eyes.
"Come to the estate."
"I can't."
"Why?"
"Because I'm being followed."
The line crackled.
Then another voice came through.
A woman's voice.
"Matthew?"
He froze.
He knew that voice.
He had heard it in family videos, at birthdays, and in the last voicemail his brother had left him.
"Elena?"
The answer came through in a whisper.
"Don't trust Luca."
The line went dead.
Matthew stared at the phone.
Clara tightened her grip on his hand.
"Who was that?"
He looked at her, his face drained of color.
"My sister-in-law."
Before he could say more, the estate's security alarm began to scream.
Luca's car had just entered the driveway.
And he wasn't alone.
May you like
A second vehicle followed behind him.
Inside it sat Gavin Dunmore.
