Chapter 7 - THE WOMAN ON THE FORM
“I’ve never seen that document,” I said.
Noah checked the file details. “It was created yesterday at 3:12 p.m. The witness name was added at 4:27.”
At 4:27, I had been locked in the linen closet.
Vanessa had taken my employee ID from my apron while she held me there. When she left, it was on the floor beside the sheets. I thought she had dropped it by accident.
Luca called Marcus. “Where is Vanessa?”
“In her room. Mrs. Ellis is outside.”
“Keep her there. Call the police. Ruth, save a copy of everything Noah found.”
Ruth connected an external drive. “Already doing it.”
I looked at the document again. “Why use my name? I’m a housemaid.”
“A witness who can be blamed for a forged document,” Noah said. “Or paid to say she saw Luca sign it.”
“I wouldn’t.”
“They don’t need you to,” Luca said. “They need people to wonder.”
At twelve fifteen, Detective Elena Brooks arrived at the warehouse with another officer. She spoke to Ruth first, then Noah. When she turned to me, I told her exactly what Vanessa had done in the closet. Dr. Harris had photographed my wrist before wrapping it.
Brooks took notes. “You saw Ms. Bellini take a document from Mr. Moretti’s desk?”
“I saw her leave his study with it. The camera took the pictures.”
“Why did you set up a camera?”
“Because she’d been going in there when he wasn’t home. I wanted proof before I told anyone.”
Brooks nodded and asked for the card.
Luca looked at me. “It’s Claire’s.”
I handed it over myself.
A call came through on Brooks’s radio. Officers had arrived at Luca’s house. Vanessa was gone.
Marcus called seconds later. “Mrs. Ellis watched her door. Vanessa didn’t come out.”
“Window?” Luca asked.
“Second-floor balcony. The guard below saw no one.”
“How did she leave?”
Marcus hesitated. “There’s a service passage behind her dressing room. It connects to the old guest wing.”
Luca’s face went still. “Who knows about it?”
“Staff who worked here before the renovation.”
“And Daniel,” Luca said.
Noah turned the document over on the screen. On its final page was another signature, faint beneath a block of digital text.
He adjusted the contrast. A name appeared.
May you like
It wasn’t Vanessa’s.
It was Mrs. Ellis’s.
