Chapter 3 - The Photograph Taken Before Her Mother DiedChloe did not sleep.
At 5:17 a.m., she sat on a leather sofa in a penthouse she had never seen before, wearing a borrowed sweatshirt and staring at a photograph that should not have existed.
Massachusetts General Hospital.
March 2.
She remembered the day.
Her mother had undergone another round of tests.
Chloe had spent nine hours sitting beside her hospital bed while Elaine Bennett complained about the gelatin and insisted the handsome resident doctor was flirting with Chloe.
“You should smile at him,” Elaine had whispered.
“Mom, you’re on morphine.”
“Doesn’t mean I’m blind.”
That had been Elaine.
Sick.
Terrified.
Still trying to arrange her daughter’s romantic life.
Twenty days later, she was dead.
Chloe touched the edge of the photograph.
“Who took this?”
Dominic stood near the kitchen counter.
“I don’t know.”
“You have people who know things.”
“I do.”
“Then find out.”
His eyes settled on her.
“I intend to.”
“Today.”
“Yes.”
Chloe looked away.
Leo had left to investigate the shooter.
Two other men guarded the elevator.
Chloe knew neither name.
She hated everything about this.
Especially how quickly Dominic’s world had closed around her.
“I need my phone.”
Dominic nodded toward the coffee table.
It was there.
She picked it up.
Thirty-four missed calls and messages.
News had broken.
SHOOTING AT BEACON HILL RESTAURANT.
One article already mentioned an unnamed waitress who had alerted Dominic Moretti seconds before the attack.
Unnamed would not last.
“Can I call Joanna?”
“Who?”
“My roommate from college.”
Dominic’s expression tightened.
“Does she know where you live?”
“She’s been there.”
“Then no.”
Chloe stared.
“You just said you weren’t going to control me.”
“I said nothing of the sort.”
“You admitted I had choices.”
“You do.”
“What are they?”
“Call her and potentially lead people to her, or wait until we know who is watching your communications.”
Chloe hated that those were rational choices.
“Fine.”
She put down the phone.
“Then tell me about you.”
Dominic’s eyebrows rose.
“What?”
“If my life is apparently in danger because of you, I deserve information.”
“We do not know that this is because of me.”
“The gunman who tried to kill you had my photograph.”
“Yes.”
“Pretty compelling.”
Dominic sat opposite her.
“What do you want to know?”
“Everything.”
“No.”
“Then start with why people want you dead.”
“That list would take time.”
Chloe stared.
Dominic almost smiled.
She saw it.
“You really are insane.”
“I have been called worse.”
“Crime boss?”
The smile disappeared.
“Frequently.”
“So it’s true?”
“What?”
“You’re mafia.”
Dominic leaned back.
“There is no membership card, Chloe.”
“That is not an answer.”
“My family has businesses.”
“Legal?”
“Some.”
She blinked.
“At least you’re honest.”
“I try not to lie when silence works better.”
“That is possibly the most disturbing thing anyone has ever said to me.”
“Give it time.”
Despite herself, Chloe laughed.
The sound surprised both of them.
For one second, the tension broke.
Then Dominic’s phone rang.
He answered.
His face changed.
“Where?”
Silence.
“When?”
Another pause.
“Do not touch anything. I’m coming.”
He disconnected.
Chloe stood.
“What happened?”
“Nothing you need to worry about.”
“Oh, absolutely not.”
“Chloe.”
“You don’t get to show me a photograph taken outside my dying mother’s hospital room and then say something doesn’t concern me.”
Dominic looked at her.
She held his gaze.
Finally he said, “Someone entered your apartment.”
Her stomach dropped.
“What?”
“Twenty minutes ago.”
“Who?”
“They were gone before my people arrived.”
“My apartment?”
“Yes.”
“I need to go.”
“No.”
“Dominic.”
“No.”
She grabbed her coat.
He moved toward the elevator.
Not blocking her.
Simply standing there.
“You can leave.”
Chloe stopped.
“But if the person who broke into your apartment is waiting nearby, Leo may not reach you before they do.”
“You are threatening me.”
“No.”
His voice softened.
“I am telling you the truth.”
Chloe’s anger collapsed into fear.
“What did they take?”
“We don’t know yet.”
“My mother’s things are there.”
Dominic saw the panic.
“Chloe.”
“Her jewelry. Her photographs. Her letters.”
“We will recover anything missing.”
“You can’t promise that.”
“No.”
The immediate honesty stopped her.
Dominic picked up his jacket.
“Come with me.”
She stared.
“To my apartment?”
“Yes.”
“Five seconds ago it was too dangerous.”
“It is.”
“So?”
“You’re going anyway.”
Chloe folded her arms.
“You’re learning.”
“I learn quickly.”
They traveled in two black SUVs.
Chloe hated that too.
Her apartment building in Allston looked painfully ordinary when they arrived.
Brick.
Graffiti beside the entrance.
A broken buzzer.
Dominic looked at the building.
“You live here?”
“Try not to sound horrified.”
“The front lock is broken.”
“It’s been broken since February.”
His jaw tightened.
“My rent is seventeen hundred dollars. Welcome to Boston.”
Inside, the apartment was destroyed.
Chloe stopped in the doorway.
Drawers overturned.
Mattress slashed.
Cabinets emptied.
Her mother’s photographs scattered across the floor.
“No.”
She pushed past Dominic.
“Chloe.”
She dropped to her knees.
A cardboard box had been ripped open.
Hospital paperwork.
Letters.
Old birthday cards.
Everything Elaine had left behind.
Chloe searched frantically.
“Where is it?”
Dominic crouched beside her.
“What?”
“The necklace.”
“What necklace?”
“My mother’s.”
Her hands shook.
“It was my grandmother’s before hers. She gave it to me in the hospital.”
“Describe it.”
“Gold chain. Small oval pendant. Blue stone.”
Dominic looked toward one of his men.
“Find it.”
The man began searching.
Chloe opened another drawer.
Empty.
Then she noticed something.
Her mother’s hospital bills were gone.
Not all paperwork.
Only the bills.
“Dominic.”
He followed her gaze.
“What?”
“They took the medical statements.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know.”
“Anything unusual about your mother’s treatment?”
“She had cancer.”
“What kind?”
“Pancreatic.”
“Doctors?”
“Half the oncology department. Why?”
Dominic’s expression had changed.
“What?”
He stood.
“Which doctor treated her?”
“Dr. Nathan Hall.”
Dominic went completely still.
Chloe noticed.
“You know him.”
“No.”
“You reacted.”
Dominic looked toward Leo, who had just entered.
Leo heard the name.
His face changed too.
Chloe stood.
“Who is Nathan Hall?”
Leo looked at Dominic.
Dominic answered.
“He isn’t only an oncologist.”
“What does that mean?”
“His brother is Michael Hall.”
“So?”
“Michael Hall handles money for the Bellucci family.”
Chloe stared blankly.
Dominic continued.
“The Belluccis have been at war with my family for almost six years.”
Her skin went cold.
“My mother’s cancer doctor was related to your enemy?”
“Yes.”
“That could be coincidence.”
“Yes.”
“But you don’t think it is.”
“No.”
Chloe looked around her destroyed apartment.
The photograph.
The hospital.
The missing bills.
Her mother.
“Was my mother involved in something?”
“We don’t know.”
“She was a librarian.”
Dominic said nothing.
“She alphabetized spices.”
Still nothing.
“She watched Jeopardy every night and thought jaywalking was basically organized crime.”
Dominic’s expression softened.
“I believe you.”
“Then why?”
Leo interrupted.
“We found something.”
He held a small envelope.
It had been taped beneath Chloe’s kitchen table.
Her name was written across the front.
Not printed.
Handwritten.
Chloe recognized it instantly.
Her mother’s handwriting.
Her knees nearly failed.
She opened it.
Inside was a single piece of paper.
Chloe,
If anyone ever comes asking about St. Vincent’s, do not answer them.
Do not trust Dr. Hall.
Find Daniel.
He will know what to do.
I am sorry I never told you.
Love always,
Mom.
Chloe read it twice.
Then a third time.
Dominic took a slow breath.
“Who is Daniel?”
May you like
Chloe looked at him.
“I have no idea.”
Related Stories
