Chapter 3 - The House That Wasn’t Empty
Luca held out his hand.
“The phone.”
Vanessa clutched her purse.
“You have no right.”
“You just arranged an inspection of a house you don’t own.”
“It’s a misunderstanding.”
“Then help me understand.”
She took one step back.
His security chief, Rocco, moved toward the doorway.
Luca looked at him.
“Don’t touch her. Call the police about a possible break-in at Maple Street.”
That surprised everyone.
Especially Vanessa.
“Police?” she said.
“Yes.”
“Think about what you’re doing.”
“I am.”
He turned to his guests.
“Dinner’s over. Thank you for coming.”
Nobody argued.
Emily was calling Michael. Her hand shook so badly I steadied the phone.
“I’m okay,” she told him. “Dad knows.”
She listened, then began crying again.
“No. He’s happy.”
Luca heard that.
I saw the words land.
He asked me to stay with her while Rocco brought the car.
Vanessa moved close enough that only I could hear.
“You should have taken the money.”
I looked at her.
“You should have let her see her father.”
We drove to Maple Street with Emily beside me and Luca in front.
Michael was already on his way to meet us there.
The little brick house sat halfway down a quiet block. A porch light burned above a blue door. Someone had planted late chrysanthemums along the walkway.
A dark van stood in the alley.
Rocco pointed.
“Back gate.”
Two men came through it carrying a long metal box between them.
Luca reached for the door handle.
“Stay here,” Rocco said.
Then police lights flashed at the corner.
One man dropped his end of the box.
The other ran.
An officer caught him at the alley entrance. The first raised both hands, shouting that they were movers.
“Who hired you?” another officer asked.
“Bellini. We have paperwork.”
Luca stepped out slowly.
Emily leaned across me to see.
The box lay open on the pavement.
Inside were old framed photographs, a stack of notebooks, and a blue accordion folder.
Nothing that looked worth breaking into a house for.
Then I noticed the man beside the van.
Even with an officer holding his wrist, he was staring at the folder.
Not the jewelry case beneath it.
Not the silver picture frames.
The folder.
Michael’s car pulled up behind ours.
Emily got out before I could stop her.
He caught her in both arms.
Luca stood a few feet away, watching the man his daughter loved hold her the way he should have been holding her for weeks.
An officer approached with the paperwork.
“Mr. Moretti, these men say your daughter authorized the removal.”
Emily turned.
“No, I didn’t.”
The officer showed her the signature.
Her face drained.
“That looks like mine.”
Luca studied the page.
May you like
Then Emily pointed at the second signature.
“And that one’s yours, Dad.”
