Chapter 3 - HIS BROTHER’S VERSION
Adrian Moretti wore a navy suit and the expression he used when somebody else had made an expensive mistake.
He was thirty-five, three years younger than Vincent, and had spent most of his life sounding reasonable beside a brother people feared.
“What happened?” he asked.
“You tell me.”
Adrian glanced at Maria.
“I warned you.”
“You texted me about stealing. You didn’t mention a bottle.”
“I didn’t know there was one.”
“Then why are you here?”
“Celia called.”
Celia’s eyes lifted.
Only for a second.
Vincent watched the exchange.
“When?”
“Ten minutes ago.”
Ten minutes ago, Vincent had been alone with his breakfast.
Emma hadn’t reached his chair yet.
Adrian seemed to realize his mistake.
“She was worried about Maria.”
A siren sounded beyond the gates.
Vincent stepped away from the table.
“Everybody stays where they are.”
The paramedics checked whether he had eaten anything. He hadn’t. A patrol officer photographed the dish and the bottle while another separated the adults.
Maria sat beside Emma in the breakfast room, trembling so hard the chair moved.
A detective arrived twenty minutes later.
Elena Ruiz.
She knew the Moretti name. Vincent could see that immediately.
She also knew enough not to smile at Adrian.
Ruiz listened without interrupting. Then she asked Vincent whether his house cameras covered the kitchen.
“The hallway. The entrances. Not inside.”
“We’ll need the recordings.”
“Frank has access.”
Frank came back carrying a tablet.
“The system restarted this morning,” he said. “We lost a stretch.”
“How long?” Ruiz asked.
“Forty-seven minutes.”
Vincent stared at him.
His security system hadn’t failed in four years.
Now forty-seven minutes were gone on the morning somebody tampered with his food.
Ruiz asked Frank to leave the tablet.
Adrian stepped closer to Vincent.
“You understand what this looks like? Your housekeeper loses her husband, works for you for years, then gets caught stealing. Maybe she blames you.”
“His death was an accident.”
“That doesn’t mean she believes it.”
“You told me it was an accident.”
Adrian’s mouth closed.
From the breakfast room, Emma spoke in a small, clear voice.
“Mommy doesn’t steal.”
Nobody answered.
“She puts money in the envelope.”
Vincent turned.
“What envelope?”
Maria shut her eyes.
Emma looked from face to face.
“The one for the man who says we can stay in our apartment.”
Ruiz crouched beside her.
“What man, sweetheart?”
May you like
Emma pointed straight at Adrian.
“Him.”
