Chapter 2
The two police officers entered the penthouse at 8:47 p.m.
I knew the exact time because the enormous brass clock over the fireplace ticked so loudly that every second felt like a hammer inside my chest.
One officer was a woman in her forties named Sergeant Elena Ruiz. The other was younger, Officer Brennan, with rain still darkening the shoulders of his uniform.
Sergeant Ruiz scanned the room once.
Broken porcelain.
Half-cleared dinner plates.
Ten abandoned wineglasses.
Vanessa in her sapphire gown.
Luca standing beside me.
Blood on my knee.
She did not look impressed by wealth.
That helped.
“Who made the complaint?” she asked.
“I did,” Vanessa said immediately.
Luca’s mouth tightened.
Ruiz looked at Vanessa.
“Name?”
“Vanessa Bellini.”
“And what was taken?”
“A Cartier diamond bracelet. White gold. Approximately eighty thousand dollars.”
My stomach turned.
I had never touched anything in that apartment worth eighty thousand dollars.
I had never owned anything worth eight hundred.
Ruiz glanced at me.
“And you are?”
“Claire Dawson.”
“Do you work here?”
“Yes.”
“For Mr. Moretti?”
“For the household.”
Vanessa interrupted.
“She works for me.”
Luca looked at her.
“No, she doesn’t.”
Vanessa stared back.
He continued.
“Household staff are employed through Moretti Residential Services. You know that.”
That was news to me.
Apparently it was news Vanessa didn’t enjoy hearing.
Sergeant Ruiz raised one hand.
“One person at a time.”
She looked at Vanessa again.
“When did you last see the bracelet?”
“This afternoon. Around four.”
“Where?”
“Upstairs. In the blue suite.”
The same room.
My skin prickled.
Ruiz noticed my reaction.
“You were in that room?”
“Yes.”
Vanessa answered before I could.
“She was caught going through private documents.”
“I was not going through them.”
“Claire,” Ruiz said, “I’ll get your version in a minute.”
I nodded.
Vanessa went on.
“When I confronted her, she became panicked. She ran. Later, I discovered my bracelet was gone.”
Ruiz looked at the blood on my stockings.
“And the injuries?”
Vanessa shrugged.
“She tripped while running.”
Luca’s expression darkened.
Ruiz turned to me.
“Did you take the bracelet?”
“No.”
“Do you know where it is?”
“No.”
“Did you enter the blue suite today?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
I explained the garment delivery.
I explained the man in the navy suit.
I explained the contract.
I did not dramatize it. I did not add anything. I just told the truth.
When I finished, Sergeant Ruiz looked at Luca.
“Where is this document now?”
Daniel Mercer held it up from the far end of the table.
“Here.”
“And you are?”
“Daniel Mercer. Counsel for Mr. Moretti and Moretti Hospitality.”
Ruiz gave him a dry look.
“Of course you are.”
Daniel almost smiled.
Officer Brennan took photographs of the first page and the highlighted clause while Ruiz asked questions.
Then Marco returned.
He stopped in the doorway.
Empty-handed.
My heart fell.
Luca saw it.
“Where’s the phone?”
“It’s not there.”
Vanessa leaned back slowly.
Ruiz looked between us.
“What phone?”
Luca answered.
“Claire may have accidentally recorded part of the conversation she described.”
Ruiz’s attention sharpened.
“May have?”
I explained the voice memo.
“Where did you leave the device?”
“On the dressing-room floor.”
“When?”
“A little after four.”
“Locked?”
“Yes.”
“Passcode?”
“Yes.”
“Could anyone know it?”
I thought.
Mrs. Kline had once seen me use my birthday to unlock it when my hands were full.
But Vanessa?
“No.”
Ruiz looked toward the staircase.
“We need to see the room.”
Vanessa stood.
“No.”
The sergeant’s eyebrow lifted.
“No?”
“My father’s legal documents are upstairs.”
“That’s not a reason I can’t look for a reported stolen bracelet in the exact location where you claim it disappeared.”
Vanessa’s face hardened.
“I don’t consent to a search of my personal suite.”
Luca spoke.
“It isn’t your suite.”
Everyone looked at him.
He took his phone from his vest pocket.
“This property is owned by Moretti Residential Holdings. The blue guest suite is not leased to Ms. Bellini. I consent.”
Vanessa went pale.
Ruiz looked from one to the other.
“Good enough for a walkthrough of the common guest room, assuming there isn’t a separate privacy arrangement.”
“There isn’t,” Daniel said.
Vanessa glared at him.
Traitor might as well have been written across her face.
We went upstairs.
Luca insisted I stay downstairs because of my knee.
I refused.
“My phone was there.”
“You can barely walk.”
“And if they find something in that room, I need to see it.”
Ruiz nodded once.
“She can come.”
Luca’s jaw tightened, but he offered me his arm.
I took it.
The blue suite was at the far end of the second-floor hall. Pale silk wallpaper. French furniture. A fireplace that had never been used. The garment boxes were stacked near the windows exactly where I remembered.
The dressing-room door stood open.
The broken metal rack had been moved.
I stopped.
“That’s wrong.”
Ruiz turned.
“What is?”
“The rack.”
I pointed.
“It fell against that wall. The broken corner was near the vanity.”
Now it rested upright beside the closet.
Someone had cleaned the blood.
My blood.
There had been a smear on the marble where I hit.
It was gone.
Luca stared at the floor.
“Who cleaned this room?”
Marco shook his head.
“Not our staff. Mrs. Kline told everyone to leave it alone after dinner started.”
Vanessa crossed her arms.
“Maybe the afternoon cleaners did their jobs.”
I looked at her.
“They left at three.”
She said nothing.
Sergeant Ruiz crouched near the vanity.
“There’s moisture in the grout.”
Officer Brennan touched the edge of a towel that had been shoved behind a laundry basket.
“Sergeant.”
Ruiz pulled on gloves and lifted it.
The towel was damp.
A faint pink stain marked one corner.
Luca’s eyes moved to me.
My stomach rolled.
Ruiz placed the towel in an evidence bag.
Then Brennan opened the second drawer of the vanity.
“Got something.”
My phone lay inside.
I almost cried from relief.
Then he lifted it.
The screen was shattered.
Not cracked.
Shattered.
The back had been smashed hard enough to dent the metal casing.
“That’s mine,” I whispered.
Ruiz looked at Vanessa.
Vanessa stared at the phone like she had never seen it before.
“How strange.”
Luca’s head turned slowly.
“Strange?”
Vanessa shrugged.
“She probably broke it when she fell.”
I shook my head.
“It was working after I fell.”
“You said you dropped it.”
“I picked it up. I saw the recording timer.”
That was when I remembered something else.
My chest tightened.
“I stopped the memo.”
Ruiz looked at me.
“What?”
“After I fell. Before Vanessa came after me. I grabbed the phone and hit stop.”
“Was it uploaded anywhere?”
“I don’t know.”
“What kind of phone?”
“IPhone.”
“Cloud backup?”
“Yes, I think so.”
Vanessa’s face changed again.
Barely.
But I saw it.
So did Luca.
Ruiz handed the phone to Brennan.
“Bag it.”
Vanessa stepped forward.
“This is insane. You came here for my stolen bracelet.”
Ruiz turned.
“You’re right. Where did you keep it?”
Vanessa pointed toward a velvet jewelry case on the vanity.
“There.”
Brennan opened it.
Empty.
Ruiz searched around the case, then the immediate drawers with Vanessa watching.
Nothing.
Then she looked at me.
“Claire, did you bring a bag to work?”
“My purse is downstairs in the staff closet.”
“Would you consent to us looking inside it?”
“Yes.”
Vanessa smiled.
Luca noticed.
“No,” he said.
Ruiz turned to him.
I did too.
Luca looked at me.
“You don’t need to consent because someone is pressuring you.”
“I’m not.”
“Claire—”
“I want them to look.”
His jaw flexed.
“You’re sure?”
“Yes.”
We went back downstairs.
Every step hurt more than the one before it.
Mrs. Kline had my purse waiting on the kitchen island.
She looked furious and frightened.
Ruiz asked me again for consent.
I gave it.
Brennan opened the purse.
Wallet.
Keys.
Lip balm.
A paperback novel.
Two bus receipts.
A folded grocery list.
Then his hand stopped.
My breath disappeared.
He slowly pulled out a velvet jewelry pouch.
Blue.
Vanessa’s mouth curved.
“Oh.”
“No.”
My voice came out as a whisper.
Brennan opened the pouch.
Diamonds flashed beneath the kitchen lights.
The bracelet.
Eighty thousand dollars wrapped around his gloved fingers.
I backed into the counter.
“No. No, that wasn’t there.”
Vanessa folded her arms.
“Of course it was.”
I looked at Mrs. Kline.
“You saw me put my purse away.”
“Yes,” she said quickly. “Before lunch. I saw her.”
“Did anyone have access to the closet?” Ruiz asked.
Mrs. Kline hesitated.
“The staff corridor isn’t locked during service.”
“So anyone in the residence could have reached it?”
“Yes.”
Vanessa’s smile faded.
Ruiz studied the bracelet.
Then me.
Then Vanessa.
She did not reach for handcuffs.
“Claire, when did you last touch your purse?”
“Before lunch.”
“Not since?”
“No.”
“Anyone see that?”
Mrs. Kline nodded.
“She never took a break. I kept telling her to.”
Luca looked sharply at me.
“You worked from lunch until dinner without a break?”
I wished he had chosen another moment to ask.
“Pretty much.”
His expression darkened further.
Vanessa threw up her hands.
“Why are we discussing her break schedule? My bracelet is in her purse.”
Sergeant Ruiz looked at her.
“That’s exactly why I’m not discussing handcuffs yet.”
Vanessa blinked.
“What?”
“The complainant states the bracelet disappeared from upstairs around the same time Ms. Dawson was injured. Ms. Dawson’s phone is later found destroyed in that room after someone cleaned evidence of the injury. Meanwhile, the missing bracelet appears in a purse that has been unattended for hours in an unlocked staff area.”
Ruiz tilted her head.
“That doesn’t make the theft impossible. It makes it messy.”
Daniel stepped closer.
“I’d call it convenient.”
Vanessa rounded on him.
“Nobody asked you.”
Luca’s phone buzzed.
He looked at the screen.
Then at me.
“What?” I asked.
He didn’t answer immediately.
Instead, he showed the screen to Daniel.
Daniel read the message.
His face changed.
“What is it?” Ruiz asked.
Luca looked toward her.
“My head of IT just checked the household network.”
He tapped the phone.
“Claire’s device synchronized a voice memo to cloud storage at 4:19 p.m.”
My knees nearly gave out again.
Vanessa went completely still.
Ruiz’s voice sharpened.
“Can it be recovered?”
Luca looked at me.
“If Claire gives permission, yes.”
“Yes.”
I didn’t hesitate.
“Yes, recover it.”
Vanessa turned toward the foyer.
Luca noticed.
“So where are you going?”
She looked back.
“Home.”
“No.”
“You don’t control where I go.”
“No,” he said. “But the police might have questions.”
Ruiz nodded.
“I do.”
Vanessa’s composure cracked.
“This is a family matter.”
Ruiz looked at the bracelet in Brennan’s evidence bag, then at my destroyed phone.
“No, Ms. Bellini. It stopped being a family matter when somebody called 911.”
For the first time that night, Vanessa looked afraid.
Then Luca’s phone rang.
He answered.
“Moretti.”
A male voice spoke loudly enough that I heard only fragments.
Server.
Recovered.
Four minutes, eleven seconds.
Luca put the call on speaker.
A technician said, “We have the audio file. There’s background noise, but the voices are clear.”
Vanessa whispered something under her breath.
Luca’s eyes never left her.
“Play it.”
The technician hesitated.
“Sir, there’s one more thing.”
“What?”
“The recording doesn’t just contain Ms. Bellini and an unidentified man.”
A beat of silence.
“There’s a third voice.”
Daniel frowned.
“Whose?”
The technician answered.
“I think you’re going to recognize him.”
Luca’s face went cold.
“Play it.”
May you like
And through the tiny speaker, beneath the hiss of fabric and the clink of hangers, a man said very clearly:
“Once Luca signs the marriage papers, we move before he realizes his own brother approved the incapacity vote.”
