Chapter 8 - The Person Who Opened the Door
The officers stopped Celia before she reached the pier.
She didn’t fight them. She stepped out of her SUV in a cream coat, looked at Isabella, and said, “You have no idea what you’re doing.”
“I’m trying to find out what you did,” Isabella replied.
Celia said nothing else without an attorney.
Calder arranged a safe place for Annie and Leo that night. Isabella understood why she could not take him home. The records were disputed. Leo knew Annie as his mother. He had just watched police surround the woman he feared.
Understanding did little to ease the ache of leaving the pier without him.
Annie called Isabella that evening after Leo fell asleep.
“He asked about you,” she said.
“What did he say?”
“He said you looked sad.”
Isabella pressed her lips together.
“He’s kind,” Annie added. “He notices things.”
“Does he know I might be his mother?”
“I told him you’re someone who cares about him. I thought we should wait until we know what’s true.”
“Thank you.”
Annie hesitated. “I believed the agency. They showed me a signed release. They said his father was unknown and his mother had asked for a private placement.”
“I didn’t sign it.”
“I know that now.”
The next morning, DNA samples were collected from Isabella and Leo under an emergency court order. Results would take time, even with the case moved to the front of the line.
Meanwhile, Elias found the person who had approved the eight-million-dollar transfer from the foundation account.
The digital record showed Isabella’s login.
“The login came from the house,” he said.
“I was in Boston.”
“Someone used your computer.”
“Dante?”
“Maybe. But the security footage shows Celia going into your study that afternoon.”
Isabella remembered returning from Boston to find the desk drawers slightly open. She had asked Dante whether he needed something. He said he’d been looking for an insurance policy.
She had believed him.
Calder interviewed Dante. He admitted he had let Celia into the house while Isabella was away. He said he knew nothing about the transfer and had not seen the document bearing Isabella’s signature.
“Why did he give her access to my study?” Isabella asked.
Calder closed her notebook. “He says Celia told him she was gathering records for an audit.”
“He never asked me?”
“He said she claimed it was a surprise review for the board.”
It sounded ridiculous. It also sounded like something Dante would accept if it kept a family problem off his desk.
That afternoon, Mara received a court notice. Celia had filed an emergency petition challenging Isabella’s fitness to claim Leo. Attached were excerpts from Isabella’s medical records after her son’s reported death. They described grief, insomnia, and treatment she had sought in private.
Only three people had access to those records: Isabella, her doctor, and Dante.
When she called him, he answered on the first ring.
“Did you give Celia my medical file?”
“No.”
“It came from our home.”
Silence.
“Dante?”
“I let her take documents from the safe yesterday,” he said. “She told me they would prove you knew about the transfer.”
Isabella shut her eyes.
“You knew she was accusing me, and you opened the safe.”
“I didn’t know about the medical file.”
“You didn’t look.”
“No,” he said.
That single word hurt more than all his explanations.
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An hour later, Celia’s petition became public.
By evening, a headline described Isabella as a grieving woman trying to take another mother’s child.
