Chương 11
“How did that pass?”
“The crash report called it collateral information, not a diagnosis. Combined with the message, marital conflict, and the apparent absence of mechanical failure, it shaped interpretation.”
“Apparent absence.”
“The brake line was destroyed in the fire. Investigators relied on maintenance records showing no prior problem.”
“Records Daniel was told to falsify.”
“Possibly.”
Vincent looked through the observation window. He saw only his own reflection.
“Why are you telling me this now?” he asked.
“Because I need to know whether Damian ever encouraged you to describe Celeste as unstable.”
“Yes.”
“How often?”
“Enough that I used the word without him.”
Velez nodded once.
The shame of that answer stayed with him through the rest of the interview.
When he returned to the estate, reporters lined both sides of the road. Some shouted questions about murder. Others asked whether he had suffered a breakdown. One held up a photograph of Celeste taken the year before her death. She was laughing at something outside the frame.
Vincent told the driver to stop.
Leon, seated in front, turned. “Bad idea.”
“I have had several.”
“This can join them.”
Vincent opened the door.
The reporters surged toward the gate.
He stood behind the iron bars while cameras lifted.
“Mr. Moretti, did you assault Damian Russo?”
“Is the fleet sale canceled?”
“Do police believe your wife was murdered?”
“Did you fabricate evidence to protect your company?”
Vincent waited until the questions thinned.
“My wife, Celeste Moretti, and my daughter, Arya, died on June seventeenth five years ago,” he said. “For five years, I accepted a version of that night that blamed Celeste. New evidence has been recovered. State police are reviewing it.”
A reporter shouted, “What evidence?”
“I will not interfere with that work.”
“Do you still believe your wife caused the crash?”
Vincent saw Celeste at the kitchen island, peeling a clementine.
“No,” he said.
The road became silent.
“I believe I failed her while she was alive and failed her again after her death. Moretti Transit will preserve all relevant records and cooperate fully. The fleet sale is suspended.”
A financial reporter called, “Can the company meet its debt obligations without the sale?”
Vincent’s mouth went dry.
“Yes,” he said.
It might not be true.
The word closed a door behind him.
By afternoon, the stock had fallen another twelve percent.
The board demanded his temporary resignation. Three lenders reserved their rights under loan agreements. Employees received messages from recruiters before lunch. Damian issued a statement through counsel denying “the cruel and delusional accusations of a grieving man being manipulated by a former employee.”
Sophia read the statement on a tablet in the kitchen.
“He didn’t use my name,” she said.
“He wants reporters to find it,” Vincent replied.
They did within the hour.
A local station parked outside Sophia’s mother’s house. Online comments called her a liar, mistress, extortionist, and murderer. Someone posted Daniel’s old arrest for an unpaid traffic warrant. Another account claimed Sophia had received a secret settlement from Vincent.
Emma’s school called to say parents were asking questions.
Sophia took the phone into the pantry, but Vincent heard her say, “No, she is not coming in tomorrow.”
When she returned, she looked at him. “This is what I meant.”
“I know.”
“No, you know headlines. You don’t know having strangers find your mother’s address because you cannot afford a gate.”
Vincent felt the impulse to defend himself and let it pass.
“What do you need?” he asked.
“A place my mother can stay.”
He arranged a room at a hotel under Leon’s name. Sophia refused the first hotel because Damian’s brother owned part of it. The second would not accept her mother’s cat. The third required identification matching the reservation. It took two hours, four phone calls, and Mrs. Alvarez’s suggestion that the cat simply be described as luggage.
The animal arrived at the estate instead.
It was orange, elderly, and hostile.
Emma named him Director because he sat in Vincent’s board chair during an emergency video meeting and refused to move.
The board meeting lasted three hours.
Damian attended through counsel but did not appear on screen. Bennett presented preliminary findings that North Vale Logistics had undisclosed connections to two prior Moretti vendors. The independent directors voted to suspend Damian from advisory duties pending review. They also voted to appoint a special committee that excluded Vincent from the investigation.
“You cannot both demand my cooperation and remove me,” Vincent said.
“We can,” the lead director replied. “In fact, we should have done it years ago.”
The remark hurt because it was true.
After the meeting, Vincent remained in the library while the screen went dark. Director the cat slept across Damian’s usual chair.
Emma entered carrying two bowls of cereal.
“Mama says you forgot dinner.”
“It is nine-thirty.”
“That’s why it’s cereal.”
She placed one bowl on the desk. Milk sloshed over the rim onto a shareholder report.
Vincent lifted the report.
“Sorry.”
“It may improve it.”
She climbed into the opposite chair and ate noisily.
After several minutes, she asked, “Did your little girl like cereal?”
“Yes.”
“What kind?”
“The kind with marshmallows shaped like stars.”
“Mama never buys that.”
“Celeste did. Then she complained Arya had too much sugar.”
“That doesn’t make sense.”
“Many things about parenting do not.”
Emma chewed. “Do you miss them every day?”
Vincent looked at the milk spreading through the report’s financial tables.
“Yes.”
“Even when you’re busy?”
“Especially then.”
She nodded as if he had confirmed something.
“I don’t remember Daddy’s face moving,” she said. “Only pictures. Sometimes I make his mouth say things, but I think I’m doing it wrong.”
Vincent had no useful answer.
Emma stirred her cereal until it became gray.
“Was Arya scared in the car?”
His hand tightened around the spoon.
“I don’t know.”
“Do you think she called you?”
May you like
The room seemed to tilt.
The final call log had shown one outgoing attempt from Celeste’s phone to Vincent, disconnected before it rang. Damian had said it proved panic, guilt, a last-second regret.
