Chương 6
“No, she didn’t.”
“You were in the library.”
“I heard enough.”
Shoes shifted on the carpet. Isabella pictured them facing each other in the corridor, both calm, both accustomed to other people becoming nervous first.
“Open the door, Isabella,” Lorenzo said.
She trusted neither man. But only one of them had made Matteo’s name sound like a threat.
She unlocked it and stepped backward.
Lorenzo entered first. Dominic stood behind him with his hands visible. Elena waited near the rear stairs, her face gray.
Lorenzo closed the door in Dominic’s face.
The smile disappeared from the older man.
“Stay here,” Lorenzo told Isabella.
“Why did he mention Matteo?”
“Because he wants you frightened.”
“It worked.”
“I know.”
“Did you tell him what I found?”
“No.”
“Then how does he know?”
Lorenzo looked toward the door. “That is what I intend to learn.”
He started to leave.
Isabella caught the back of his jacket. “Don’t kill him.”
Lorenzo turned.
The request seemed to offend him more deeply than the slap had.
“I’m not asking for his sake,” she said. “I need the truth. My mother needs the truth. If you kill him, all I’ll have is whatever version protects you.”
Lorenzo studied her hand on his jacket.
“I won’t kill him tonight,” he said.
“Tonight?”
“It’s the most honest promise I can make.”
He left the room.
Dominic was no longer in the hall.
Elena stood alone beside the staircase.
“Where did he go?” Isabella asked.
“Downstairs.”
“Did he say anything?”
“He asked if I still attended Saint Michael’s.”
“Why?”
Elena pressed both hands together. “That is where Carlo’s daughter goes to school.”
Isabella’s anger toward the housekeeper did not disappear. It shifted, making room for something more complicated and unwelcome.
“Call Carlo,” she said.
“He will not answer me.”
“Try.”
Elena dialed. The call went to voicemail. She tried again, then sent a message asking him to say only whether he was safe.
No reply came.
Downstairs, voices remained low. Isabella could not distinguish words, only the occasional rise and fall of Dominic’s tone. Lorenzo spoke less often.
Elena sat on the bench beside the travel bag.
“I should have told you,” she said.
“Yes.”
“I told myself silence kept Carlo alive.”
“Maybe it did.”
“That does not make it right.”
“No.”
Elena rubbed her wrist. Dominic had remembered the old complaint. Isabella wondered how many small details he stored because affection required them and how many because leverage did.
“What exactly did Carlo say that morning?” Isabella asked.
“He said, ‘It wasn’t supposed to happen.’ Then he asked for bleach.”
“Did you wash the shirt?”
Elena looked ashamed. “I burned it.”
The destruction of evidence hung between them.
“Where?”
“In the furnace at my apartment building.”
“Did anyone see?”
“I do not know.”
“Did Carlo tell you who was hurt?”
“No. Two days later, Matteo’s body was found. Carlo stopped looking me in the eye.”
A crash sounded below, followed by a heavy thud.
Elena rose. Isabella was already at the door.
They reached the main staircase as Dominic emerged from the library. He adjusted one cuff. A bruise darkened his lower lip.
Lorenzo followed, his knuckles reddened.
“You promised,” Isabella said.
“He’s alive,” Lorenzo replied.
Dominic dabbed his mouth with a handkerchief. “Your standards have changed since marriage.”
Lorenzo’s voice remained level. “Leave.”
“I came to warn you.”
“You came to see whether Isabella knew enough to frighten.”
Dominic glanced up the stairs. “Does she?”
“Leave.”
“You think the agents searched that warehouse because Victor got nervous? Victor doesn’t get nervous. Victor gets instructions.”
“From you?”
“From someone close enough to know the schedules.”
His gaze settled on Isabella.
Lorenzo stepped between them. “Careful.”
Dominic smiled through the blood on his lip. “There used to be a time when your first question was whether an accusation was true.”
“There used to be a time when you didn’t threaten women from outside locked doors.”
“I mentioned her brother.”
“You mentioned his habits.”
“A sentimental observation.”
Elena came down three steps. “Where is my son?”
Dominic looked up at her. “Working.”
“For whom?”
“For the family.”
“You are not his family.”
Something close to pity crossed Dominic’s face. “That distinction comes late, Elena.”
He placed the handkerchief in his pocket and walked toward the front door. Before opening it, he turned to Lorenzo.
“The government has six years of manifests, two hard drives, and Victor Salerno. If Isabella photographed anything in your office, those photographs will not save her. They will only tell people where to look.”
Lorenzo said nothing.
Dominic opened the door.
The sedan hidden beyond the eastern hedge switched on its headlights and rolled forward to meet him.
When both cars had gone, Lorenzo entered the security code and locked the door again.
Isabella descended the remaining steps.
“You told me Victor disappeared before the search.”
“He did.”
“Dominic says the government has him.”
“Dominic lies.”
“So do you.”
“Yes.”
The ease of his answer unsettled her.
“What happens to Carlo?” Elena asked.
“I’ll find him.”
“Alive?”
Lorenzo looked at her. “That is the intention.”
Elena’s mouth tightened. “Your intentions have poor outcomes.”
He accepted that without response.
Isabella reached the foyer. “Who else knows I entered the safe?”
“The alarm company recorded the opening. Dominic controls one of their technicians. I received a separate alert because I changed the notification routing last month.”
“Why?”
“I stopped trusting him.”
“After eighteen months?”
“Longer.”
“Yet you kept him beside you.”
Lorenzo looked toward the closed library doors. “Distrusting a man and being able to remove him are different things.”
“Not when you’re supposed to be the powerful one.”
“That is exactly when they become different.”
He walked into the library and opened a cabinet behind the desk. Inside were water, whiskey, and a small medical kit. He poured water into a glass, drank half, then pressed a cold pack to his knuckles.
May you like
Isabella remained near the doorway. “Why did you send men after Matteo?”
“He copied records that could have put dozens of people in prison.”
