Chapter 4 - Lorenzo returned to the estate alone.He did not tell Vincent that the investigation had changed.
He did not mention the laptop.
The money.
The grave.
Or Isabella's phone call.
He entered through the side entrance.
The house was quiet.
Too quiet.
Vincent was waiting in the library.
He stood beside the fireplace with a glass of whiskey.
He looked exactly as he had at the funeral.
Calm.
Elegant.
Composed.
The perfect friend.
“You've had a difficult night,” Vincent said.
Lorenzo stared at him.
“Have I?”
Vincent nodded.
“The cemetery.”
Lorenzo's eyes narrowed.
“How did you hear about it?”
Vincent gave a faint smile.
“People talk.”
“You've always hated gossip.”
“This isn't gossip.”
Vincent took a sip.
“It's concern.”
Lorenzo walked farther into the room.
His eyes dropped to Vincent's right hand.
No ring.
Then to his neck.
No necklace.
Vincent noticed his gaze.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
Lorenzo sat down.
“Where were you last night?”
Vincent's expression barely changed.
“At home.”
“Alone?”
“Yes.”
Lorenzo nodded.
“Convenient.”
Vincent smiled.
“You're accusing me?”
“I'm asking.”
“You've known me too long to ask questions like that.”
Lorenzo said nothing.
Vincent stepped closer.
“Isabella's death has made you suspicious of everyone.”
Lorenzo's eyes hardened.
“She is dead.”
Vincent paused.
Then nodded.
“Yes.”
Lorenzo watched him.
No hesitation.
No surprise.
Just certainty.
That was what frightened him.
Vincent had not asked whether Lorenzo believed she was alive.
He had simply confirmed she was dead.
Lorenzo rose.
“You should get some sleep.”
Vincent turned toward the door.
Then stopped.
“There is something I should tell you.”
“What?”
“The night Isabella disappeared...”
Lorenzo waited.
“she called me.”
Lorenzo's face changed.
“What did she say?”
“That she was afraid.”
“Of what?”
Vincent looked at him.
“Of you.”
The sentence landed like a slap.
Lorenzo said nothing.
Vincent continued.
“She believed you were going to confront her about the company.”
“That makes no sense.”
“You were angry about the missing funds.”
“Those funds weren't missing.”
Vincent shrugged.
“She thought they were.”
Lorenzo stepped forward.
“You've known me for twenty-two years.”
“Yes.”
“You know I would never hurt Isabella.”
“I know.”
“Then why say she was afraid of me?”
Vincent stared at him.
“Because sometimes fear doesn't care whether it's rational.”
He walked away.
At the doorway, he turned.
“I'll always be here for you, Lorenzo.”
Then he left.
Lorenzo waited until the door closed.
Mason entered from the hallway.
“You heard all of it?”
“Yes.”
“Did you notice?”
“The ring?”
Mason nodded.
“He removed it.”
Lorenzo looked at the fire.
“Why?”
“Maybe he knows we're onto him.”
“Or maybe he wants us to think he knows.”
Mason placed a tablet on the table.
“We traced the phone call.”
“And?”
“Three possible towers.”
“Location?”
“All near the eastern side of Kingston.”
Lorenzo stared at the map.
Kingston.
Rural roads.
Old farms.
Abandoned properties.
A perfect place to hide someone.
Rachel arrived ten minutes later.
“Before we move,” she said, “we found the woman in the coffin.”
Lorenzo turned.
“Who?”
“Claire Donnelly.”
He had never heard the name.
Rachel placed a photograph on the table.
Thirty-four.
Brown hair.
Green eyes.
A faint scar near her temple.
Lorenzo stared.
The same scar.
The same eye color.
The same approximate height.
“She could have been mistaken for Isabella.”
Rachel nodded.
“That's exactly what happened.”
“How?”
“The body had severe burns.”
“And the dental records?”
“Falsified.”
“By Price?”
“We're still investigating.”
Lorenzo looked at the photograph again.
“Who was Claire?”
Rachel opened another file.
“Former accountant.”
“Where?”
“A logistics firm.”
“Connected to us?”
Rachel looked at him.
“Yes.”
Lorenzo's stomach tightened.
“Which one?”
“Moreau Shipping.”
Silence.
Mason swore under his breath.
Rachel continued.
“She had access to the port records.”
“Did Isabella know her?”
“We think so.”
“Why?”
Rachel pulled out an email.
Sent from Isabella's account.
To Claire Donnelly.
Subject line:
WE NEED TO MEET TONIGHT.
Lorenzo read the message.
There were only six words.
I know who is stealing from him.
He looked up.
“Who is him?”
Rachel met his eyes.
“We don't know.”
Lorenzo stared at the message.
Then his phone rang.
This time it was Sophia.
He answered.
“Where are you?”
Her breathing was uneven.
“Sir, Emma is missing.”
Lorenzo stood.
“What?”
“She was with the sitter.”
“How?”
“I don't know.”
“Where are you?”
“The estate.”
He turned toward Mason.
“Lock every gate.”
Then Sophia screamed over the phone.
“Lorenzo!”
“What?”
“I found her rabbit.”
Silence.
“Where?”
“In the greenhouse.”
Lorenzo felt every muscle in his body tighten.
“Is Emma there?”
“No.”
May you like
Then Sophia whispered the words that turned the entire room cold.
“There's blood on it.”
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