Chapter 5 - THE PRICE OF A PROMISE
The voice recording did not end the investigation. That surprised me more than it should have. I had grown up believing that bad people got caught when somebody found the right tape. Real life turned out to involve passwords, warrants, attorneys, questions about who had access to a microphone, and experts who could tell whether an audio file had been altered.
Detective Lewis took possession of the recorder under a documented evidence process. Technicians copied and authenticated its files. Nico Bianchi's attorney declined comment. Bianca's attorney claimed the recordings had been installed as a security measure and edited to embarrass her. Victor DeLuca announced that any suggestion of wrongdoing by his company was "an attack on a respected Chicago employer."
I watched the statements on television from Mom's couch. The commentators discussed Matteo's tattoos and his family's reputation more than they discussed a frightened little boy. One of them referred to me as "a disgruntled employee." Another wondered whether I had injured myself to force a settlement.
My mother turned off the screen so abruptly the remote bounced off her knee.
"They don't know you."
"People who never met me think they do."
"Then let them be wrong while the evidence is examined."
That was easy advice to give and difficult advice to follow. A former coworker texted me that photographers were waiting outside her bus stop. Someone posted my old social-media profile, complete with a picture of my mother on her birthday. Nina Patel sent removal requests where possible and instructed me not to argue online. She helped me write a short statement confirming that I was receiving medical care, cooperating with law enforcement, and would not discuss Leo's private life.
A person from Victor's office called the temporary hotel and offered me money for an exclusive interview "correcting misunderstandings." Nina returned the call for me. I never learned what she said, only that the person did not call again.
Meanwhile, Matteo had to confront a friend he'd known since childhood.
He told me about it afterward, while I sat across from him in a quiet meeting room at Nina's office. There were no household guards in the hall, only a receptionist working on a crossword puzzle. Nina was present, as she had promised to be whenever I discussed evidence with anyone associated with the estate.
"I asked Nico why his credential appeared at the marina," Matteo said. "He said an assistant borrowed it. I asked who had access to the security equipment. He said the same assistant."
"Did he give a name?"
"He gave three. All three deny it."
"What did he say about the recording?"
"His lawyer spoke for him."
He looked down at his hands. The dark ink on his knuckles seemed almost ordinary under fluorescent lights. "When we were eleven, Nico's father lost his job. My mother set an extra place every night for six months. He slept on our couch. She treated him as family."
"And Elena didn't trust him."
"No." Matteo's voice flattened. "I remembered our friendship more clearly than I remembered my wife's warning."
Nina interrupted gently. "Grace doesn't need the details of your internal business discussions unless they affect her safety or her case."
Matteo gave a short nod. "You're right."
I wanted to tell Nina she didn't have to protect me from him. But that was exactly why I was there: to make sure gratitude didn't turn into obedience. So I let her protect me.
After the meeting, Matteo left a small paper bag with the receptionist. Inside was a paperback puzzle book and a note from Leo: FOR WHEN YOU ARE BORED OF RESTING. The book contained math riddles, word searches, and an enormous maze I suspected would take me all week.
At the bottom of the bag was a picture of a bright green fish wearing a crown. On the back Leo had written, DAD SAYS YOU CAN CATCH THIS ONE IF YOU TRY HARDER.
For the first time since the dinner, I laughed without needing to check who was watching.
Three days later, Rosa told me that Bianca had moved out of the estate. Matteo had formally ended their engagement. Bianca's dresses and jewel cases were collected under supervision; the staff were given written instructions not to argue with anyone from her family. The wedding planner was paid for services already provided, and canceled invitations went out without explanation beyond "the event will not take place."
"Some of those people will be furious," I said.
"Let them buy their own cake," Rosa replied.
But canceling a wedding didn't cancel a plan.
On Wednesday morning, a delivery truck arrived at Pier Nine with a fencing crew hired by Lakefront Meridian. The crew presented paperwork claiming a preliminary right to secure the property before a planned sale. The manager of Elena's sailing school refused to let them close the gate while children were attending an after-school program. Police came, examined the competing documents, and directed the crew to leave pending legal clarification.
Maya applied for emergency relief in court to prevent any transfer or interference with the property while the disputed contracts were investigated. She also requested independent review of the signatures.
"A forged document doesn't become real because someone filed it," she told a reporter outside the courthouse. "But it can create real trouble until the court addresses it."
That night, Matteo visited Leo's room and found him kneeling beside the empty suitcase. Rosa told me what happened because Leo asked her to tell me. His father sat on the rug rather than standing above him.
"What are you doing, buddy?"
"Checking if my things are still here."
"They're here."
"What if somebody takes them while I'm asleep?"
Matteo put the suitcase back in the closet. "Then I will help you get them back. But nobody is authorized to move your things. I've told everyone."
Leo watched him close the closet. "Bianca used to say you told her things you didn't want to tell me."
"She said things that weren't true. And I should have asked more questions."
"Will I have to go to another school?"
"We will decide together with people who can help us. Not because anybody threatens us."
"Can Rosa still make my dinner?"
"If Rosa wants to."
"And Grace?"
"Grace gets to decide where she works after she heals. She has a life of her own."
According to Rosa, Leo considered this carefully. "I think grown-ups should stop making plans for people without asking."
"I think you're right," Matteo said.
I had been at the mansion for months, yet a child was teaching its owner how to live there.
Late Thursday afternoon, I received an invitation to return to Pier Nine—not to work, but to meet the sailing school's director, Harper Quinn. Maya was arranging witnesses who could explain the history of the property. Harper thought I might recognize one of the people who had appeared in old security footage, and Detective Lewis had approved a brief supervised identification procedure.
I worried about leaving the hotel, but Nina arranged transport and came with me. The autumn air smelled of river water, diesel, and wet leaves. The old brick boathouse stood between shining new towers, stubbornly unpolished. Children's life jackets hung on hooks inside. Photos of Elena with laughing students covered one wall.
Harper was a tall woman with gray hair cut close to her head. She showed me a still image from six years ago, taken during a meeting by the boathouse gate. Elena stood in a yellow raincoat, arms crossed. Beside her were Victor and Nico. A fourth man in the background wore a thick silver ring with a square black stone.
I leaned closer. "That's the man at the reception. The one who spoke to Rosa."
"His name is Samuel Kreel," Harper said. "Private security contractor. He used to work for DeLuca Development."
"Why was he here six years ago?"
"There was a dispute about a proposed sale. Elena asked him to leave when she realized he was photographing children."
I stared at the image. "This has been going on since before she died."
"The interest in the land has," Harper said. "We have records of the offers. That doesn't prove every other thing being alleged."
She was careful, and I appreciated it. The important details were troubling enough without making them bigger than they were.
We stepped into the classroom where volunteers taught water safety. Elena had painted a message above the sink: EVERY CHILD DESERVES A SHORE TO COME HOME TO.
Matteo arrived just as I was reading it. He stood below the words for a moment, staring at his late wife's handwriting.
"She chose that sentence," he said. "I told her it was too sentimental."
"She was right to keep it," I said.
"She usually was."
Before we could speak further, Harper returned holding a newly delivered envelope. There was no return address. Inside was a photocopy of a preliminary sale contract signed by Nico and Victor. Across the top someone had stamped CONFIDENTIAL — CONTINGENT.
A note attached to it read: ASK MATTEO ABOUT THE RELEASE HE SIGNED IN JULY.
"July?" I asked.
He stared at the date and went pale. "I signed a refinancing packet in July. Nico brought it to my office between meetings."
"Did you read every page?" Maya asked over speakerphone.
Matteo looked toward the photographs of Elena on the wall. "No."
The answer felt heavier than an accusation.
May you like
If the release was hidden inside that packet, then the forged school documents were only half of Bianca's plan. A genuine signature, given carelessly by Matteo himself, might have opened a door none of us could close easily.
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