Chapter 3 - The Brother Who Couldn't SpeakLuca DeLuca survived.
Her wet clothes clung to her body.
Her cheek still burned where Matteo DeLuca had struck her.
She sat alone on a steel bench beneath fluorescent lights while rain tapped against the small reinforced window near the ceiling.
Every few minutes she replayed the alley in her head.
The baby.
The cold little hands.
The bracelet.
The photograph.
Most of all, Matteo's face when he saw the reflection.
Nora knew fear.
She had grown up with it.
Her father had disappeared when she was twelve. Her mother had worked two jobs until illness killed her six years later. Nora had spent most of adulthood learning that people with money could turn mistakes into inconveniences while people without it turned inconveniences into disasters.
But she had never seen fear on a man like Matteo DeLuca.
Until that photograph.
The cell door opened at 3:58 a.m.
A gray-haired detective entered.
“Ms. Bennett.”
Nora stood.
“My name is Detective Aaron Hale.”
“Am I under arrest?”
“You were detained.”
“You put handcuffs on me.”
“I noticed.”
“Then answer the question.”
Hale studied her.
“You've got some fight in you.”
“I got slapped, accused of murder, and thrown in jail after performing CPR on a baby I found in the trash. I'm running low on patience.”
Something almost resembling approval crossed his face.
“Sit.”
“I'd rather stand.”
“Fine.”
Hale opened a folder.
“You work at the Hawthorne Hotel?”
“Yes. Housekeeping.”
“Three years?”
“Three years and seven months.”
“No criminal record.”
“No.”
“No connection to the DeLuca family?”
“None.”
“Never met Matteo DeLuca?”
“Not until he hit me.”
Hale looked uncomfortable.
“You can file a complaint.”
“I will.”
That surprised him.
Nora folded her arms.
“Rich men don't get a free pass because they're angry.”
“No disagreement here.”
“Then why am I still locked up?”
“Because the nanny is dead.”
Nora's anger faded.
“What happened?”
“Her name was Celeste Ward. Twenty-nine. She had cared for Isabella DeLuca since the child was born.”
“How did she die?”
“Blunt-force trauma.”
Nora swallowed.
“And the baby?”
“Alive.”
Her knees almost gave out.
“Is she okay?”
“Hypothermia. Dehydration. Some bruising. Doctors think she'll recover.”
Nora closed her eyes.
Thank God.
Hale watched her carefully.
“You really did find her.”
“I've been telling everyone that for four hours.”
“We recovered surveillance footage from a pharmacy across the alley.”
Nora opened her eyes.
“It shows you arriving alone. You heard something. You went to the dumpster. Less than two minutes later, DeLuca's vehicles arrived.”
“So I can leave.”
“Almost.”
“What does that mean?”
“The photograph you spotted wasn't there when the garbage truck emptied the container at eight yesterday evening.”
Nora frowned.
“How could you know that?”
“The sanitation truck has a rear camera.”
“Someone placed it there.”
“Yes.”
“Who?”
“That is where things get complicated.”
Hale closed the folder.
“The man reflected in the photograph is Luca DeLuca. Matteo's younger brother.”
Nora remembered Matteo's expression.
“Is he the killer?”
“We don't know.”
“Then why would he be holding a syringe?”
“We don't know that either.”
Nora gave him a tired look.
“You detectives say that a lot.”
The door opened.
A uniformed officer entered.
“Detective.”
Hale turned.
The officer whispered something.
Hale's expression sharpened.
“What happened?”
“We've got a problem.”
Nora's stomach tightened.
The officer glanced at her.
“Luca DeLuca is missing.”
Hale cursed under his breath.
“And Matteo?”
“Outside.”
Nora stared.
“Here?”
“He wants to speak to her.”
“No.”
The answer came instantly.
Hale blinked.
“No?”
“He accused me of murdering someone I've never met and hit me hard enough that my jaw still hurts. He can speak to my lawyer.”
“You don't have a lawyer.”
“I'll find one.”
A deep voice came from the hallway.
“I already did.”
Nora's spine stiffened.
Matteo DeLuca stepped through the doorway.
He was no longer wet.
He wore a charcoal suit and a black overcoat. His face had regained the frightening calm she'd seen just before the slap.
But something else had changed.
There were shadows beneath his eyes.
“My attorney is outside,” he said.
Nora laughed once.
“You think I'm using your lawyer?”
“He's not my lawyer anymore.”
“Convenient.”
Matteo looked at Hale.
“Five minutes.”
“You don't give orders in my station.”
Matteo's expression remained flat.
“No. But I can ask.”
Hale looked between them.
Then left.
Matteo and Nora stood alone.
For several seconds, neither spoke.
Finally Matteo said, “My daughter is alive because of you.”
Nora stared at him.
“Yes.”
“I was wrong.”
“Yes.”
“I shouldn't have struck you.”
“No.”
His jaw tightened.
Nora waited.
Matteo DeLuca seemed to be a man accustomed to giving commands, not apologies.
“I am sorry.”
Nora's anger didn't disappear.
But the apology sounded genuine.
“What happened to your brother?”
“I don't know.”
“Do you believe he hurt Isabella?”
“I don't know that either.”
“Do you believe he killed the nanny?”
Matteo's eyes shifted.
“I would have said impossible six hours ago.”
“And now?”
“Now I don't know what is possible.”
Nora studied him.
“Why were you in that alley?”
“My security team tracked a vehicle associated with one of my employees. We lost it two blocks away.”
“So someone wanted you to find Isabella.”
“Yes.”
“And wanted the police to find that photograph.”
“Yes.”
Nora felt a chill unrelated to her wet clothes.
“Then maybe the photograph isn't evidence.”
Matteo's eyes narrowed.
“What is it?”
“A message.”
Silence.
Nora continued.
“Someone kidnapped your baby, murdered her nanny, left your daughter where she could die, then planted a photograph implicating your brother. That's not random.”
Matteo stared at her.
“It could be intended to divide my family.”
“Or make you kill the wrong person.”
His expression hardened.
Nora realized suddenly that this was not theoretical.
If Matteo believed his brother responsible, Luca might not live long enough for police to investigate.
“You can't go after him.”
Matteo said nothing.
“Mr. DeLuca.”
“My brother is missing.”
“That doesn't mean he's guilty.”
“No.”
“Then promise me you won't hurt him before you know the truth.”
His eyebrows rose.
“You are giving me orders?”
“Someone should.”
For the first time, something flickered at the corner of his mouth.
Not a smile.
Almost.
Then his phone rang.
He answered.
“Yes.”
The color drained from his face.
“What hospital?”
Nora's pulse jumped.
“What happened?”
Matteo lowered the phone.
“Someone just found Luca.”
“Where?”
“In the harbor.”
Nora covered her mouth.
“Is he dead?”
Matteo's eyes met hers.
“No.”
Then his voice dropped.
“But whoever put him there carved one word into his chest.”
“What word?”
May you like
Matteo looked toward the door.
“Traitor.”
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