Chapter 2
The Poison
“Bruno!”
I dropped beside him.
His legs folded beneath him as if someone had cut invisible strings.
Luca was on the floor before I was.
“What's happening?”
“I don't know.”
Bruno's eyes were open, but they looked unfocused.
His breathing came too quickly.
I put my hand against his chest.
“Come on, sweetheart.”
Luca looked toward Michael.
“Where's the veterinarian?”
“Five minutes away.”
“Make it two.”
Michael immediately grabbed his phone.
I didn't think Bruno had two minutes.
His gums were pale.
His body shook.
“Sir, help me turn him on his side.”
Luca did exactly what I asked.
No questions.
No hesitation.
For a man who gave orders that could make entire rooms go silent, he looked helpless while holding his old dog's head.
“Stay with me,” he whispered.
Bruno's tail moved once.
A tiny motion against the rug.
Luca closed his eyes.
“Don't you dare.”
I don't know why that broke something inside me.
Maybe because I had spent eight months watching Luca Moretti from a safe distance.
He was never cruel to the staff.
Never loud.
Never careless.
But there was always a wall around him.
A feeling that he lived five moves ahead of everyone else.
Now there was no wall.
There was only a man on the floor begging the last piece of his father not to die.
I touched his arm.
“He's still fighting.”
Luca looked at me.
For one strange second, the entire house seemed to disappear.
Then footsteps thundered down the hallway.
Dr. Harris arrived carrying two medical bags.
He was an older man with rain on his glasses and absolutely no interest in the armed men surrounding him.
“Everybody back.”
He examined Bruno.
“When did he last eat?”
I looked at Luca.
Luca looked at me.
“I don't know,” I admitted. “Mrs. Bellini had him in the garage.”
Dr. Harris's expression tightened.
“How long?”
Vanessa said from behind us, “I don't know.”
The veterinarian looked up.
“That wasn't a difficult question.”
Vanessa glared at him.
I answered.
“At least since yesterday.”
Dr. Harris checked Bruno's pupils.
Then his pulse.
“Has he vomited?”
“No.”
“Had trouble standing?”
“Yes.”
“Excessive thirst?”
“I found an empty bowl.”
He reached into his bag.
“I want blood drawn immediately.”
Vanessa crossed her arms.
“He's twelve years old. Perhaps he's simply sick.”
Dr. Harris looked at her.
“Perhaps.”
He filled a syringe.
“Or perhaps somebody gave him enough tranquilizer to put down a horse.”
Nobody spoke.
Luca's head turned slowly toward Vanessa.
She laughed.
“You can't possibly know that.”
“I've been treating this dog for nine years,” Dr. Harris said. “I know what his arthritis looks like. This isn't arthritis.”
He injected Bruno with something.
“What are you giving him?” Luca asked.
“Something to stabilize his heart while we wait for the portable analyzer.”
“You brought one?”
“You told my receptionist Bruno collapsed. I brought half my clinic.”
Luca nodded once.
“Thank you.”
Dr. Harris blinked.
I had the feeling Luca Moretti did not say thank you often enough for people to become comfortable hearing it.
Michael stepped closer.
“Mr. Moretti, what do you want done with the guests?”
“Get their names. Get statements from anyone who saw Vanessa near Bruno in the last five days. Then send them home.”
Antonio gave a humorless laugh.
“Statements? Have you become the police?”
“No.”
Luca looked at him.
“If I were the police, you'd be more comfortable.”
Antonio's smile disappeared.
Vanessa suddenly spoke.
“I want my attorney.”
Luca didn't even look at her.
“You're free to call one.”
“Then I'm leaving.”
“No.”
“You can't hold me here!”
“You hired a man to abduct an employee from my property.”
“I never used the word abduct.”
I couldn't believe what I was hearing.
Neither could Michael.
He looked almost offended by the technicality.
Luca stood.
“You're right.”
Vanessa blinked.
He took out his phone.
“What are you doing?”
“Calling the police.”
Her face changed.
“Luca.”
“You want your attorney. You can have him meet you at the station.”
Antonio stepped forward.
“Think carefully. Bellini has friends everywhere.”
“So do I.”
“Not the kind who wear badges.”
“Tonight, I'd prefer the kind who wear badges.”
That surprised me.
Apparently it surprised Antonio too.
Luca made the call.
While he spoke, I stayed beside Bruno.
Ten minutes later, Dr. Harris ran the first blood sample.
His expression darkened.
“Sedatives.”
Luca ended his call.
“What kind?”
“Veterinary-grade acepromazine, from the preliminary result. Possibly something else mixed with it. I'll need a proper lab.”
“Could it kill him?”
“At his age and weight, with his heart condition?”
Dr. Harris looked at Bruno.
“Yes.”
Luca's jaw tightened.
“Was it accidental?”
The veterinarian didn't answer immediately.
“Not at this concentration.”
Vanessa began crying.
Not the dramatic tears she'd used earlier.
These were frightened tears.
“I didn't poison him.”
Luca turned.
“I believe you.”
Everyone looked at him.
Even Vanessa.
Hope appeared in her expression.
Then Luca said, “You would have paid somebody else to do it.”
Her hope disappeared.
Police sirens sounded outside.
Antonio looked toward the windows.
“This is a mistake.”
Luca faced him.
“No, Uncle. Trusting you may have been the mistake.”
“You have no evidence against me.”
Luca held up his father's letter.
“We're about to find out.”
Antonio's gaze went to the flash drive.
Then back to Luca.
That tiny movement mattered.
Luca noticed it.
So did I.
Before anyone could say more, Bruno shifted.
His eyes opened.
“Hey,” I whispered.
His nose touched my wrist.
Luca knelt beside me.
“Bruno?”
The dog breathed deeply.
Dr. Harris checked him again.
“That's better.”
Luca put one hand over his face.
Relief.
Only for a second.
Then the wall returned.
Police entered the mansion.
What followed felt unreal.
Questions.
Names.
The driver repeating his story.
Vanessa shouting that everything had been misunderstood.
Antonio demanding to contact his lawyer.
Two detectives examining the garage.
Another officer photographing Bruno's empty water bowl.
I stayed out of the way.
At least, I tried to.
Around midnight, I went upstairs to change my wet uniform.
My room was on the third floor near the staff quarters.
I opened the door.
And stopped.
Everything I owned had been pulled apart.
My mattress had been cut open.
My dresser drawers were dumped onto the floor.
My mother's birthday card had been torn in half.
Even the cheap ceramic jar where I kept emergency cash was smashed.
Someone had searched my room.
Recently.
The window stood open.
Rain blew across the carpet.
I backed into the hallway.
“Michael!”
He appeared thirty seconds later with his hand near his holster.
Then Luca came behind him.
He took one look inside.
His expression hardened.
“When?”
“I don't know.”
“Did you come up here after dinner started?”
“No.”
Michael checked the window.
“No forced entry.”
“Staff keys?” Luca asked.
“Three master sets.”
“Account for all of them.”
Michael nodded.
I stared at my destroyed room.
“Why would anyone search my things?”
Luca looked at me.
“That is exactly what I intend to find out.”
I stepped inside.
Then I noticed something.
My closet door.
There was mud near the bottom.
A shoe print.
Michael crouched.
“Men's shoe.”
My heart started pounding.
Someone had been in my room while I was downstairs.
Maybe while I'd been holding Bruno.
“What were they looking for?”
Luca's gaze moved over the floor.
Then he looked at my apron.
“Empty your pockets.”
I did.
A pen.
Two hair ties.
My house keys.
A grocery receipt.
Nothing else.
Then I felt something stiff inside the lining.
“What is that?”
I reached into a tear near the seam.
My fingers touched paper.
I pulled out a photograph.
It was old.
Maybe twenty years old.
Four men stood outside a warehouse near the Chicago River.
One was Luca's father.
One was Antonio.
I didn't recognize the third.
But the fourth man made my entire body go cold.
He had my eyes.
My nose.
My smile.
I hadn't seen his face since I was fourteen years old.
“My father.”
Luca stared at me.
“That's your father?”
I nodded.
“He died when I was sixteen.”
“How?”
“Car accident.”
Michael looked at Luca.
Luca looked at the photograph.
Then he turned it over.
There was handwriting on the back.
A date.
And six words.
Luca read them aloud.
“Daniel knows what Antonio did.”
My father's name was Daniel Sullivan.
I had never told anyone in the Moretti household that.
Luca looked at me slowly.
“Emma.”
I could barely breathe.
“What?”
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Chapters 1–10
