Chapter 8 - The Name Beneath the FloorboardsWe had less than twenty-four hours.
Nora was alive, but she was being held by people who had spent years manipulating my family. The original trust sat on my desk, and the confession that could implicate them in my father's death was in my hands.
Yet Isabella's discovery changed the direction of everything.
If the boathouse contained proof of her supposed death, then the men holding Nora were not merely demanding money or land.
They were protecting a lie that could destroy them.
Marcus arranged an emergency meeting with the police. We provided the ransom message, the maintenance-van footage, and copies of the financial ledger.
The officers agreed to monitor the boathouse from a distance.
But I insisted on one condition.
Nora would not be used as bait.
"She's three," I told the lead investigator. "Whatever happens, she comes out alive."
He studied me.
"We'll do everything possible."
"That's not enough."
"It's all I can promise."
I hated the answer, but it was honest.
Back at the estate, I read my father's confession from beginning to end.
He had suspected Voss of manipulating his medication. Harland had promised to protect the doctor from professional scrutiny if he helped conceal the financial fraud.
Adrian had prepared legal documents designed to transfer the northern land to Bellweather Holdings before the trust could be registered.
If the transaction went through, the proceeds would be divided among the conspirators.
But that still didn't explain Isabella's disappearance.
The confession contained a clue.
A payment had been made to a private investigator six years earlier. The money was recorded as a security expense, but the recipient's name had been obscured.
Marcus traced the payment through the estate's banking records.
The recipient was a company called Westbridge Recovery.
It had been dissolved five years ago.
Its director, however, was still alive.
A former security contractor named Daniel Cross.
Marcus found his last known address.
An abandoned farmhouse outside the city.
We drove there with two officers.
The building stood beside a muddy road, its windows covered by sheets of plywood. A rusted vehicle sat behind the barn.
Marcus knocked.
No answer.
He knocked again.
A light flickered inside.
Then the door opened a few inches.
An older man stared at us.
"Daniel Cross?"
"Who wants to know?"
I stepped forward.
"Luca Moretti."
His expression changed.
He tried to close the door.
Marcus stopped it with his foot.
"We need to talk about Isabella Moretti."
Cross went pale.
"I don't know anything about her."
"We have records linking you to a payment made shortly before she disappeared."
"I told you, I don't know anything."
"Then you won't mind answering a few questions at the station."
His gaze shifted toward the officers.
Finally, he opened the door.
Inside, the farmhouse smelled of stale coffee and damp wood. Old newspapers lay scattered across a table.
Cross sat down heavily.
"I was paid to arrange transportation," he said. "That's all."
"Transportation for whom?"
"Isabella and the baby."
I leaned forward.
"Where were you taking them?"
"To a safe house outside Florence. Harland told me she was in danger because your father had enemies."
"Was she willing to go?"
Cross hesitated.
"No."
My hands curled into fists.
"What did you do?"
"We were supposed to scare her. Make her believe someone was following her. Harland wanted her to disappear for a while, until the property deal was finished."
"Then why was her car found burned?"
Cross looked down.
"That wasn't part of the plan."
"Explain."
"The car caught fire during transport. I was told to leave it where it would be found and report that she had died. We were supposed to take Isabella and the baby somewhere safe until things settled down."
"Who gave that order?"
Cross swallowed.
"Harland."
"Where did he take them?"
"I don't know. I left after the fire."
I slammed my palm against the table.
"You were paid to abduct my sister and help fake her death. Don't tell me you know nothing."
Cross flinched.
"I have something that might help."
He stood and went into the back room.
When he returned, he carried a small metal box.
Inside lay a photograph, a folded map, and a bracelet identical to the one Theo had worn in the security footage.
"I kept these because I was afraid Harland would come back for me."
He pushed the map toward me.
"There's an old hunting lodge near the river. It belonged to your father. Harland used it after the accident."
I studied the markings.
A red circle had been drawn around a narrow road leading to the river.
Marcus checked the time.
"We need to get there."
Before we could leave, Cross grabbed my arm.
"Mr. Moretti, listen to me. Harland didn't do all this for the money."
I stared at him.
"Then what did he want?"
Cross's eyes darted toward the window.
"He told me your father had promised him something. Something he believed belonged to his family."
"What?"
"I don't know. But Harland said if he couldn't have it legally, he would take it another way."
I released his arm.
The hunting lodge was forty minutes away.
We drove through heavy rain, following the narrow road toward the river. The trees grew thicker as we approached the property.
Then Marcus's radio crackled.
A security officer had identified a vehicle matching Harland's maintenance van near the lodge.
The officers moved into position.
I stepped out of the car.
The lodge stood dark against the trees.
One upstairs window glowed faintly.
Inside, someone was moving.
I approached the rear entrance with Marcus.
Through a crack in the door, I heard a man's voice.
"Your mother should have stayed hidden."
A child's voice answered.
"Where's Nora?"
Theo.
Then the man spoke again.
"She's where she belongs."
I reached for the door handle.
Marcus touched my shoulder.
"On my signal."
I nodded.
May you like
But before he could give it, a gunshot exploded inside the lodge.
Then a little girl screamed.
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