Chapter 4 - A Signature in Blue Ink
The police separated the two men.
Luca didn’t threaten either one.
Somehow, that made him look more frightening.
He stood under the porch light with his hands open at his sides while Emily stared at a document that claimed she had authorized strangers to empty her mother’s basement.
Michael read it over her shoulder.
“Em, you weren’t even here on that date.”
“I know.”
“She was at my school’s fundraiser,” he told the officer. “There are pictures.”
The officer nodded and wrote it down.
Inside, the house smelled like lemon polish and cold radiators.
Emily stopped in the hallway.
A family photograph had been taken off the wall and left facedown on a chair.
She picked it up.
Her mother stood in the picture wearing gardening gloves, laughing at something outside the frame.
Luca looked away.
“What was her name?” I asked softly.
“Anna,” Emily said.
Downstairs, the cabinet doors hung open.
A fresh gouge marked the wood around the lock.
Emily touched it.
“Mom kept everything in here. Old bills. School papers. Things she thought we’d need someday.”
An officer photographed the damage.
The recovered box was brought inside for identification before the documents were collected.
Emily recognized the photographs. Luca recognized Anna’s notebooks.
Neither recognized the blue folder.
Inside its clear front sleeve was a typed label.
MAPLE STREET — ORIGINAL RECORDS.
Beneath that, in Anna’s handwriting:
Do not give these to Paul until I speak with him.
Luca went still.
“Paul?” Emily asked.
“My accountant.”
“How long has he worked for you?”
“Twenty-three years.”
Michael looked toward the stairs.
“He was at dinner.”
He had been.
I remembered him because he had thanked Vanessa for arranging his seat beside Luca.
A smaller envelope slipped out of the folder.
On its front, Anna had written:
For Emily. Whenever she is ready.
The officer let Emily open it after photographing the envelope.
Inside was a brass key and a card.
Sweetheart,
The cabinet is for the things we keep.
The bank box is for the things we may need.
Your father will understand the difference.
Love, Mom.
Emily turned the card over.
A bank name. A box number.
Luca read them without speaking.
Then his phone rang.
PAUL MERCER.
He answered on speaker.
“Luca,” Paul said. “Vanessa called. Before this gets out of hand, there’s something you should know about Claire Dawson.”
Every face in the basement turned toward me.
May you like
Paul continued.
“She isn’t in your house by accident.”
