Chapter 6 - The Secret Inside the Music Box
“Find Isabella,” Emily said. “Right now.”
Dominic heard something in her voice that made him stop walking. He was in the estate's west corridor, halfway between his office and the conservatory. A few minutes earlier, Mrs. Dawson had told him Isabella was upstairs, finishing a watercolor painting. Now the hallway seemed impossibly long.
“What happened?”
“I think Caleb was outside my cousin's apartment. He sent a message. He says Isabella has the evidence Sofia hid.”
Dominic turned toward the stairs. “Stay inside. Lock the door. Naomi is coming.”
He ended the call and called Mrs. Dawson. No answer. He tried the nursery extension. Nothing. Then he ran.
The nursery door stood open. A glass of milk sat untouched on Isabella's desk. Her painting lay on the floor, a small house surrounded by blue flowers. Dominic found Mrs. Dawson in the adjoining bathroom, awake but dazed, sitting against the bathtub. A wet towel covered her mouth.
“Isabella,” she whispered before he could ask. “A man in a gray coat. He said you sent him.”
Dominic crouched beside her. “Where did he take her?”
“She wouldn't go. She said you taught her not to leave with strangers. He tried to grab her, but she ran into the old playroom.”
Dominic was already moving.
The old playroom had belonged to Sofia. She had refused to let decorators erase its cheerful yellow walls, even after Isabella began preferring her upstairs bedroom. Dominic found the door locked from the inside.
“Bella? It's Daddy.”
Silence.
“Sweetheart, tell me our secret password.”
A trembling voice answered, “Blue pancakes.”
“That's right. I'm alone.”
The lock clicked. Isabella stood behind the door clutching a wooden music box painted with white swans. Her face was streaked with tears, but she had not cried out. Dominic gathered her into his arms.
“Did the man hurt you?”
She shook her head. “He wanted Mommy's box. I told him it was broken.”
Dominic looked down at the object. He remembered buying it at a little shop in Florence on their honeymoon. Sofia had loved its imperfect melody. After her death, Isabella slept with it beside her bed.
“Why did he want it?”
Isabella pressed her lips together. “Mommy told me not to tell anyone.”
Dominic felt the words like a blow. “When did she tell you that?”
“The day before the accident. She said if a bad person asked, I should say it was just a toy. But if I ever got scared, I could give it to somebody kind.”
“Did she tell you who?”
Isabella nodded. “She said I'd know.”
Dominic closed his eyes. His wife had been frightened enough to entrust a secret to a five-year-old, and he had spent two years believing her death was an accident.
He carried Isabella downstairs, keeping the music box tucked beneath his arm. Naomi arrived twenty minutes later with two investigators. The man in the gray coat had escaped through the garden before Dominic's guards reached the rear gate. Security footage showed his face only briefly, but Naomi recognized him.
“Victor Hale,” she said. “Former private contractor. He used to work for Carlisle Freight.”
Dominic placed the music box on his desk. “Can you open it without damaging it?”
Naomi examined the bottom. There were no visible screws. Isabella, who had insisted on remaining in the room, approached quietly.
“Mommy said the swans have to kiss.”
She rotated two carved birds toward each other. A tiny click sounded. A narrow panel slid open beneath the velvet lining. Inside lay a memory card and a folded note.
Dominic recognized Sofia's handwriting.
If you're reading this, I couldn't get home safely. Trust the evidence, not the people who claim to protect you. And tell Isabella I was trying to make the world safer for her.
He had not cried at Sofia's funeral. He had barely cried at all in the two years since. Now he sat down because his knees would no longer hold him.
Naomi took the card to a computer disconnected from the internet. It contained shipping manifests, photographs of sealed cargo containers, and a recording of a conversation in a warehouse office. Richard Carlisle's voice was unmistakable.
“The girl doesn't matter,” Richard said. “The driver does. Find Caleb Parker before he talks.”
A second voice answered. “And Sofia?”
Richard paused. “She'll stop asking questions when she understands what she stands to lose.”
The second voice was Marco Bellini's.
Dominic stared at the screen. The recording ended before Marco's response became clear. There was no proof he had agreed to anything. But there was proof he had been in the room.
“Don't let him near Isabella,” Dominic said.
Naomi nodded. “I already changed the security assignments.”
Isabella stood beside the desk, watching the adults' faces. “Did Mommy do something bad?”
Dominic lifted her onto his lap. “No, sweetheart. Mommy was trying to help someone.”
“Like Emily?”
“Yes.”
“Then we should help too.”
He kissed her hair, painfully aware that his daughter had inherited Sofia's courage and his own tendency to underestimate danger.
Across town, Emily waited in her cousin's darkened kitchen. Naomi's message said only that Isabella was safe. The relief made her dizzy. She called her mother and learned that her parents had accepted temporary accommodation under Naomi's supervision.
Then the unknown number rang.
Emily answered without speaking.
A man whispered, “It's Caleb.”
Her breath stopped. She knew the voice. It was older, rougher, but unmistakably her brother's.
“Where are you?”
“Don't ask over the phone. I saw the car following me. Listen carefully. The card in the music box is only half of what Sofia collected.”
“What's the other half?”
“A ledger. It has the names of the people who moved the money.”
“Do you have it?”
“No.” His breathing quickened. “Marco does.”
Emily stood motionless as Caleb added, “And if Dominic tries to arrest him before we get it, everyone involved will disappear.”
May you like
The call ended.
For the first time, Emily understood that the mystery wasn't merely who had killed Sofia. It was who would be willing to kill again to keep the truth buried.
