Chapter 11 - The Night Evelyn Disappeared|
Clara didn't show Dante the message immediately.
She told herself she wanted to verify it first. She wanted to ask Helen what to do, to preserve the photograph, to make sure the sender couldn't track her through the link.
But the truth was simpler.
She was afraid of the answer.
For eight years, she had believed her mother died from complications after a sudden illness. Evelyn had been exhausted for months, working long hours and skipping meals. The doctors had said her body had been under too much strain.
Clara had never questioned it.
Now a stranger was telling her that Dante Moretti had been present when her mother died.
That evening, Dante arrived at Helen's office carrying a file box. He set it on the table and noticed Clara's silence.
“What happened?”
“Did you know my mother was dying?”
His expression changed.
“Why are you asking?”
“Because someone says you were there.”
Dante sat down slowly.
“Your mother died eight years ago. I met her twice before that, both times in connection with the old financial investigation. I was not at the hospital when she died.”
“Were you there the night she disappeared?”
Clara placed the message on the table.
Dante read it without touching the phone.
“I need to know what you mean by disappeared.”
“My mother left home one evening and didn't return until after midnight. She said she'd been helping a friend. The next day, she burned a stack of papers in the kitchen sink. I was twelve. I remember because she made me stay away from the stove.”
Dante's face tightened.
“What date?”
Clara gave him the month and year as accurately as she could.
He opened the file box and searched through the records.
After several minutes, he found a photocopied security log from an old Moretti warehouse. The date matched.
“Someone recorded a meeting at our warehouse that evening,” he said. “My uncle was there. Richard Vale was there. And I was there.”
Clara felt her hands go cold.
“You told me you didn't know what happened.”
“I told you I didn't know who was responsible for the financial crimes. I didn't tell you I wasn't present at every meeting connected to them.”
“Why didn't you say so?”
“Because I didn't know your mother's identity when we first spoke. Once I recognized the necklace, I should have told you everything I remembered. I was trying to verify the records first.”
“That sounds like an excuse.”
“It is a reason. Whether it's a good one is for you to decide.”
He opened the log.
“There was an argument about a missing ledger. My uncle accused someone in the finance office of copying confidential records. I remember a woman waiting in the corridor. I didn't speak to her. I was told she was a legal clerk.”
“Was it my mother?”
“I can't be certain. I remember dark hair and a gray coat. I didn't see her face clearly.”
“Did she leave with Richard Vale?”
“No. Vale left before the meeting ended.”
Clara looked at the photograph on her phone again.
“Someone wants me to believe you were there when she died.”
“Someone wants you to believe several things. That doesn't mean every claim is false.”
He slid the log across the table.
“I was there. I heard the argument. I failed to investigate it properly afterward. Those facts are mine to answer for.”
Clara had expected him to deny everything.
Instead, he admitted enough to make the uncertainty worse.
“Did you know my mother was afraid?”
“Yes.”
“Did you help her?”
Dante looked down.
“I arranged for a lawyer to contact her after the meeting. I was told she declined the assistance.”
“Who told you?”
“My uncle's office.”
“Did you check?”
“No.”
The answer struck Clara harder than a denial would have.
Dante continued.
“I was young enough to believe that offering help was the same as making sure help arrived. I was wrong.”
Clara stood and walked to the window.
She wanted to hate him. It would be easier than holding two truths at once: that he had protected her when everyone else laughed, and that he might have failed her mother when it mattered.
“I'm going to investigate this without you,” she said.
Dante rose.
“All right.”
“You won't send people to follow me.”
“I'll respect your decision. But if you receive another threat, tell Helen.”
“And you won't use your money to make this disappear.”
“I won't.”
She turned to face him.
“Promise me you won't interfere with the evidence.”
“I promise.”
For a moment, neither moved.
Then Dante placed the warehouse log on the table.
“You should have this.”
“Why?”
“Because the truth shouldn't depend on whether you trust me.”
He left without asking her to forgive him.
After he was gone, Clara studied the log. Near the bottom was a handwritten note recording a vehicle departure.
The driver was listed as Martin Cole.
The passenger field contained a single name.
Evelyn Bennett.
May you like
And beside it, in a different hand, someone had written:
Do not return her to the apartment.
