Chapter 11 - The Dead Man's Signature
The name on Naomi's report was Anthony Moretti, but the handwriting was not the part that frightened Dominic. His father had once used a private authorization phrase to move money without creating an ordinary banking record. Only four people had known it: Anthony, his accountant, Marco Bellini, and Dominic himself.
The phrase had been used at 8:14 that morning.
Dominic stared at the document while rain ran down the windows. Across the sitting room, Emily had fallen asleep in an armchair with Isabella curled against her. For a moment he imagined sending them somewhere no one could find them. Then he remembered that secrecy had been the first mistake everyone had made. Sofia had hidden evidence. Marco had hidden his suspicions. Dominic had hidden his fear behind authority. None of it had kept his family safe.
“Who controls the account?” he asked.
Naomi turned a page. “The original trust was dissolved after your father's death. A holding company acquired its assets six months later. The registered manager is Daniel Voss.”
Dominic knew the name. Voss had been Anthony's accountant, a quiet man with silver glasses who used to bring Dominic birthday cards and tell him that figures never lied. Voss had disappeared from the family's business after Anthony's funeral. Dominic had assumed retirement.
“Find him,” Dominic said.
“I've requested a warrant for the company's records. We can't move on him simply because he once knew your father.”
“Then we get the evidence.”
Naomi regarded him carefully. “That's a different answer from the one you would have given a month ago.”
Dominic looked toward Isabella. “A month ago I thought fear was the same as respect.”
The following morning, Emily found him in the kitchen making blue pancakes. He had used too much food coloring, and the first batch looked like pieces of the ocean. Isabella laughed when she saw them. Dominic had not heard that sound so freely in weeks.
“Daddy, they're terrible.”
“I've negotiated shipping contracts worth millions,” he said. “Apparently breakfast is beyond me.”
Emily took the spatula from his hand. “Move over. You're burning the edges.”
They worked side by side. He handed her plates, and she showed him how to lower the heat. The scene was ordinary, almost painfully so. Dominic wanted to keep it, but he knew wanting was not enough.
After breakfast, Emily asked to speak with him privately.
“I can't stay here indefinitely,” she said.
He nodded. “I know.”
“I came because Isabella needed someone she trusted. But I need to build a life that isn't dependent on your household. I want to finish my nursing prerequisites. I stopped taking classes when Dad got sick.”
“I can help you find a program.”
“I don't want you paying for my future.”
“Then I won't.”
She studied him, surprised that he hadn't argued. “I don't want to be another person you protect by making decisions for them.”
“You're right.” He hesitated. “I care about you, Emily. More than I intended. But you don't owe me anything because I helped your family, or because Isabella loves you.”
Her eyes softened. “I care about you too. That doesn't mean I can ignore what your name has meant to people.”
“I wouldn't ask you to.”
She reached for the edge of the counter, as if steadying herself. “Then show me you can change without needing me to stay.”
Dominic agreed. It hurt, but it was the first promise he made to her without asking for a reward.
That afternoon, Caleb gave prosecutor Eleanor Price a detailed statement. He identified the warehouse supervisor who had ordered the concealed compartments installed, described the shipments he had witnessed, and supplied original photographs with dates and location data. Price explained that corroboration would still be necessary. The ledger was a beginning, not a conviction.
Vanessa also testified. She admitted that her father had arranged Emily's employment through a staffing agency and instructed her to search Sofia's old rooms. She described the threats Richard had made against Isabella. When Price asked about the engagement dinner, Vanessa looked down.
“I broke her shoe because I thought she was beneath me,” she said. “There isn't a better explanation.”
Emily, who had agreed to attend the interview, heard the admission without feeling vindicated. She remembered the cold marble, the cut on her heel, and the terrible effort of keeping her voice steady. Vanessa's remorse could not give those moments back.
Outside the interview room, Vanessa approached her.
“I'm sorry,” she said.
Emily did not smile. “I hope you become someone who would never do it again.”
“Will you forgive me?”
“Not today.”
Vanessa nodded and stepped aside.
That evening, Naomi found a transfer record linking Daniel Voss to the account used to pay the intruders. The authorization had been transmitted from a secure terminal at a waterfront property formerly owned by Anthony Moretti.
Dominic recognized the address. His father had called it the Lantern House.
Anthony had once taken him there as a boy and told him that every empire needed a place where its secrets could be kept. Dominic had not visited since the funeral.
Naomi laid the photographs on the desk. “We're going to search it with a warrant.”
Dominic studied the narrow building beside the river. “I'll tell you everything I remember.”
Then Naomi showed him a second image. It had been taken the previous evening by a surveillance camera across the street. A man was entering the Lantern House carrying a briefcase.
May you like
Dominic knew his face.
It was the retired police captain who had closed Sofia's death investigation.
