Chapter 3 - The Secret Hidden Inside the PendantThe Evans mansion stood behind iron gates in a secluded section of Manhattan, surrounded by security cameras, armed guards, and walls designed to withstand far more than a determined burglar.
Ellie thought it looked like a museum.
She pressed her nose against the car window as the gates opened.
“Do you live here?”
“Yes,” Dominic answered.
“By yourself?”
“Mostly.”
“Doesn't it get lonely?”
Dominic looked at her reflection in the glass.
“Sometimes.”
Ellie nodded as though she understood perfectly.
“My mommy said lonely people should keep a light on. That way, if somebody gets lost, they know where to go.”
Dominic glanced at the mansion.
Every light in the front hall was already on.
He wondered how long it had been that way.
Inside, the staff stood in a neat line. The housekeeper, Mrs. Bennett, was a silver-haired woman who had worked for Dominic's family since he was a teenager.
She took one look at Ellie and covered her mouth.
“Oh, my goodness.”
Dominic removed his coat.
“This is Ellie. She'll be staying here.”
Mrs. Bennett hurried forward, but stopped when she noticed the girl's expression.
“Hello, sweetheart. I'm Margaret.”
Ellie hid partly behind Dominic.
“Do you work for the police?”
Margaret blinked.
“No, dear. I look after the house.”
“Will you be angry if I get crumbs on the floor?”
The older woman's face changed.
She knelt slowly so they were at eye level.
“Sweetheart, this house has survived two hundred dinner parties, three broken chandeliers, and one unfortunate incident involving a chocolate fountain. I promise it can survive your crumbs.”
Ellie studied her.
Then, carefully, she smiled.
Margaret turned toward Dominic, and something in her gaze suggested she had already decided to take the child into her heart.
“I'll prepare a room.”
“Something warm,” Dominic said. “Clothes, shoes, anything she needs.”
“Of course.”
“And Margaret?”
The housekeeper paused.
“If anyone comes asking about Ellie, you tell me immediately. Nobody enters this property without my permission.”
Margaret's smile disappeared.
“Understood.”
Dominic took Ellie upstairs himself.
The guest bedroom he selected was larger than the thrift store where she had been sleeping. Cream-colored curtains framed tall windows, a little reading chair sat beside a fireplace, and a white canopy hung over the enormous bed.
Ellie stood at the doorway.
“Is this somebody else's room?”
“No.”
“Are you sure?”
“I'm sure.”
She entered slowly, touching the edge of the bed with one finger.
“I've never slept in a bed this big.”
“Then you'll have plenty of room to turn over.”
“Can I sleep on the floor instead?”
Dominic turned.
“Why would you do that?”
“I'm used to it.”
He took a breath before answering.
“You don't have to be used to difficult things just because they've happened to you.”
Ellie's eyes dropped.
For a moment, she seemed much younger than seven.
“Okay.”
Dominic left her with Margaret, who promised to find her comfortable clothes and something to eat. Then he went to his private office and locked the door.
Marco was waiting beside the desk.
On the desk lay a photograph of Elena, taken when she was twenty-four, and a second image of the woman from the hospital.
The years had changed her face, but not enough to erase her identity.
“We have a doctor confirming she's stable,” Marco reported. “The hospital has her listed under a false name. Someone paid cash for her admission.”
“Who?”
“Still investigating.”
Dominic picked up the silver pendant.
“Get a jeweler. I want to know whether this opens.”
Marco examined it.
“There's a seam here.”
He pressed a tiny indentation. The crescent split open with a soft click.
Inside was a miniature photograph, folded almost impossibly small.
Dominic unfolded it.
The picture showed Elena holding a newborn baby. She was smiling, her cheek resting against the infant's forehead.
On the back, in Elena's handwriting, were six words:
Dominic, forgive me. She's your responsibility.
Dominic felt the air leave his lungs.
“She's my niece,” he whispered.
Marco nodded.
“Looks that way.”
Dominic stared at the newborn's face, then at the little girl upstairs.
Ellie had Elena's eyes.
But that wasn't the only secret hidden in the photograph.
Behind Elena stood a man whose face was partly obscured by a curtain.
Dominic recognized the expensive watch on his wrist.
He had given that watch to his closest business partner on the night of their first major deal.
Victor Vale.
The man who had supposedly helped Dominic search for Elena after the fire.
The man who had stood beside him at her funeral.
The man who had told him, again and again, to stop looking backward and focus on the empire ahead.
Dominic set the photograph down with extraordinary care.
“Find Victor.”
Marco's expression hardened.
“He's in New York. His people have been purchasing property around the old waterfront.”
“How much?”
“Three warehouses, two shipping offices, and the abandoned building where the fire started.”
Dominic's hands curled into fists.
“Why would he buy the warehouse?”
“We don't know.”
“Then find out.”
A knock interrupted them.
Margaret entered carrying a small bundle of clothes.
“Mr. Evans, Ellie found something inside her coat. She says it's important.”
She placed a folded piece of paper on the desk.
Dominic recognized the handwriting immediately.
Elena.
The message was short, written in hurried strokes.
If anything happens to me, take Ellie to Dominic. Trust Marco, but never trust Victor. The fire was not an accident. The proof is hidden where the first light touches the water.
Dominic read it twice.
Then he looked up at Marco.
“Did Elena ever tell you what she was hiding?”
“No.”
“Did she mention Victor?”
Marco hesitated.
“Once. She said she'd discovered something about the shipping accounts. Something that could get people killed.”
Dominic returned his attention to the note.
The first light touches the water.
The old waterfront warehouse faced east.
The same warehouse where Elena had supposedly died.
The same warehouse where Victor now owned the surrounding property.
Dominic slipped the note into his jacket.
Then he noticed something else.
The paper carried a faint reddish stain along one corner.
Blood.
He turned toward Margaret.
“Where's Ellie?”
“Upstairs. She asked for a bath, and I've arranged for one.”
Dominic nodded.
Then he looked back at the photograph.
His niece had spent seven years hiding from someone who wanted her dead. Her mother had returned to New York, only to wind up unconscious in a hospital.
And Victor Vale had been standing in the shadows all along.
Dominic reached for his phone.
Before he could make the call, an unfamiliar voice came through the office speaker.
“Mr. Evans?”
It was a guard downstairs.
“There's a delivery at the front gate.”
“What delivery?”
“A bicycle, sir.”
Dominic went still.
“The red one?”
“Yes. And there's a note attached.”
“Read it.”
The guard paused.
“Sir, it says, 'A little girl can't hide forever. Midnight is coming.'”
Dominic slowly looked toward the window.
In the driveway, the broken red bicycle sat beneath the security lights.
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Someone had followed Ellie to his home.
And they wanted him to know that the hunt had only just begun.
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