Chương 4
“And the other injector?”
“I don’t know.”
Elena stared at him. “Have you told the police?”
“Yes.”
“All of it?”
Dominic’s eyes moved toward Emma.
Elena stepped into the hallway and pulled the door nearly closed behind her.
“All of it?” she repeated.
He rubbed the mark on his wrist. “I told them I removed the injector. I did not tell them Gabriel specifically asked me to check the drawer.”
“Why not?”
“Because until today, that didn’t seem important.”
“It seems important now.”
“I’m going back in the morning.”
“Why did you come here?”
His answer took too long.
“To apologize.”
“No.”
Dominic looked past her at the scuffed wall opposite the apartment.
“I need to know what Emma saw in the hall.”
Elena’s stomach tightened. “Leave.”
“I’m not trying to hurt her.”
“Leave.”
“Elena, listen. Gabriel is family. If she thinks she saw him—”
The apartment door opened behind her.
Emma looked at Dominic. “The shiny hand wasn’t yours.”
Dominic’s face changed.
Elena pushed Emma gently inside.
“Go.”
Dominic stepped backward. “Lock the door.”
“I was planning to.”
After he left, Elena checked the hallway through the peephole for nearly a minute.
The following morning, a courier arrived with two new EpiPen Junior two-packs, a sealed pharmacy receipt, and no note.
Elena called the pharmacy printed on the label. The prescription had been issued overnight by a physician affiliated with St. Vincent’s and paid in full by the Moretti Family Office.
She called the estate.
Lillian answered.
“Did you send medicine to my daughter?”
“Mr. Moretti’s attorney arranged it.”
“He’s unconscious.”
“He regained consciousness at four this morning.”
Elena looked toward the kitchen table, where Emma was sorting cereal pieces by color even though they were all brown.
“I don’t want gifts.”
“It is not a gift. It is a replacement.”
“It came with three extras.”
“Given the circumstances, the family thought—”
“The family did not ask.”
Lillian’s breath came through the phone. “Would you prefer I send someone to collect them?”
Elena looked at the injectors.
Her daughter needed them. Pride did not stop anaphylaxis.
“No.”
“Then keep them.”
“That does not mean I owe anyone.”
“I did not say it did.”
“You didn’t have to.”
Elena ended the call.
At the hospital, Alejandro woke with a raw throat, a bruised shoulder, and the memory of Emma’s wet brown eyes above him.
His younger sister Sofia sat beside the bed. She wore a navy sweater and no makeup, and she had fallen asleep with her cheek against one hand. A paper cup of coffee cooled on the windowsill.
Alejandro moved his fingers.
Sofia opened her eyes.
“You look terrible,” she said.
His voice scraped. “You too.”
“Good. Sarcasm means your brain survived.”
He looked toward the door. A uniformed police officer stood outside with one of Alejandro’s private guards.
“How long?”
“Sixteen hours.”
“The girl?”
“Fine.”
“Her mother?”
“Also fine. Furious, apparently.”
“She should be.”
Sofia watched him. “The doctor said another minute without epinephrine might have changed the outcome.”
Alejandro closed his eyes.
He could still feel Emma’s thin wrist beneath his hand. He could remember trying to hold on without knowing what he was holding.
“Where were my injectors?”
“Missing.”
His eyes opened again.
“Both?”
“Yes.”
“Victor?”
“Being questioned.”
“Dominic?”
“Also being questioned.”
“The camera?”
Sofia’s expression sharpened. “What camera?”
He said nothing.
She leaned closer. “Alejandro.”
“I had Victor put one in the study.”
“You put a hidden camera in your own office?”
“Things were being moved.”
“What things?”
“Files. A ledger. A photograph from Isabella’s desk.”
Sofia’s face changed at their late sister-in-law’s name. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I didn’t know who to trust.”
“You trusted Victor.”
“I trusted him to install a camera.”
“That is not the same thing?”
“No.”
Sofia sat back. “The police found it. Victor failed to mention it until Emma did.”
A small pulse moved in Alejandro’s jaw.
“What did it record?”
“They have not told us.”
“Call Mercer.”
“Your attorney is downstairs.”
“Tell him no one touches that camera.”
“The police already have it.”
“Good.”
Sofia gave him a long look. “You sound relieved.”
Alejandro turned his head toward the window. The glass reflected a gray-skinned man with bruising around his mouth and adhesive patches on his chest.
“I want to know who did it.”
“That camera may contain more than yesterday.”
He knew what she meant. Private meetings took place in the study. Men had entered with problems that did not belong in court records. Orders had been given indirectly, through language built to leave no clean edge.
Sofia lowered her voice. “Mercer says we should challenge the seizure.”
“Of course he does.”
“He also says if the recording includes privileged conversations—”
“It doesn’t.”
“You’re certain?”
Alejandro looked at her.
She understood the answer.
A nurse entered to check the monitor. Sofia stood and moved the coffee cup out of the way. For several minutes they spoke only about oxygen levels, medication, and the possibility of a second reaction.
When the nurse left, Sofia folded the paper sleeve around her cup.
“What are you going to do about the child’s mother?”
“Why?”
“Lillian suspended her.”
Alejandro pushed himself higher against the pillow. Pain tightened one side of his face.
“Reverse it.”
“I suggested that. Lillian says the police found Elena’s prints on the decanter.”
“She cleans the room.”
“They also found an opened bag of cashew flour in her locker.”
Alejandro stopped moving.
Sofia watched him carefully.
“Elena’s daughter has a peanut allergy,” she said. “Not cashew. The kitchen does not stock that flour. It was inside Elena’s personal locker.”
“Who opened it?”
“The police, after a dog alerted.”
“Convenient.”
“She is now a person of interest.”
Alejandro looked at the officer outside the door.
The child had placed her last medicine into his body while his own household prepared to place blame into her mother’s locker.
May you like
“Bring Mercer in.”
Daniel Mercer entered ten minutes later carrying a leather portfolio and the tired expression of a man who had been billing since midnight. He was sixty-one, silver-haired, careful, and expensive enough that he never hurried in public.
