Chapter 12 - THE ROOM PREPARED FOR HIS WIFE|
Maren stared at the phone.
For several seconds, she couldn't make herself speak.
A room.
Prepared for her.
In a house she had never visited.
By a man she believed had died in a fire.
The idea was so grotesque that her mind initially refused to accept it.
Dante rose slowly from the sofa.
"Tell me exactly what you found."
Nico's voice came through the speaker.
"A bedroom on the second floor."
"Was it locked?"
"Yes."
"Who opened it?"
"Detective Mercer's team."
Dante looked at Maren.
She was very pale.
He sat beside her again.
"Keep going."
"There were photographs of Mrs. Caruso on a board."
Maren's hand flew to her mouth.
"Photographs taken from different locations."
Dante's voice became dangerously quiet.
"What locations?"
"The chapel."
Nico paused.
"The garden."
Another pause.
"And the hospital."
Maren looked sharply at Dante.
"The hospital?"
Nico continued.
"Some were taken during your husband's recovery last year."
Maren closed her eyes.
She remembered the crowded corridors.
The sleepless nights.
The woman with the scar.
The feeling that someone was always watching the waiting room.
Suddenly, she wondered how many times she had been right.
"Any indication of why?" Dante asked.
"There are notes."
"What notes?"
"Adrian appears to believe Mrs. Caruso possesses evidence he needs."
"The memory card?"
"Possibly."
Maren shook her head.
"But I didn't know it existed."
Nico heard her.
"I understand, ma'am."
Dante leaned closer to the phone.
"What's the status of the property?"
"Police have secured it."
"Any sign of Adrian?"
"No."
"Then keep searching through proper channels."
"Understood."
The call ended.
Maren sat motionless.
Dante reached for her hand.
She pulled it away.
He froze.
"Maren?"
She stood carefully, gripping the walking frame.
"I need a minute."
"Of course."
She moved toward the window.
Dante remained seated.
He wanted to follow her.
To hold her.
To tell her he would make everything safe.
But after a year of being denied choices, his wife deserved the freedom to decide when she wanted comfort.
He waited.
Maren stared into the garden.
"I thought the chapel was the only place where I could be alone."
Her voice trembled.
Dante said nothing.
"Sometimes I went there because I couldn't stand being inside this house."
She looked toward the dark trees.
"I felt watched."
Dante's jaw tightened.
"And everybody kept telling me I was imagining things."
She turned toward him.
"Do you understand what that does to a person?"
He slowly shook his head.
"No."
Maren's eyes filled.
"It makes you stop believing yourself."
She looked down.
"You begin apologizing for being frightened."
Dante rose and approached her carefully.
"Would you like me to hold you?"
Maren stared at him.
The question surprised her.
Then she nodded.
"Yes."
He wrapped his arms around her, mindful of his shoulder.
She buried her face against his chest.
For several minutes, she cried without trying to hide it.
Dante held her.
He did not promise that nothing bad would ever happen again.
He knew better.
Instead, he made a promise he could keep.
"You won't have to face this alone."
Maren tightened her arms around him.
"I need to tell you something."
He leaned back.
"What?"
"When I was at the hospital, the woman with the scar gave me something."
Dante went still.
"What?"
"A key."
He stared at her.
"Where is it?"
"I don't know."
Maren rubbed her forehead.
"She pressed it into my hand and told me to hide it."
"Did she explain what it opened?"
"She said it belonged to a safe-deposit box."
Dante felt his pulse quicken.
"What bank?"
"She didn't say."
Maren closed her eyes.
"I was so frightened."
He gently touched her shoulder.
"Take your time."
"She told me the key might save your life."
Dante waited.
"And then she disappeared."
"What did you do with it?"
"I put it somewhere safe."
"Where?"
Maren stared at the garden.
"I can't remember."
Dante frowned.
"Think about the hospital."
She shook her head.
"I have."
Her voice rose slightly.
"I've been trying to remember since you showed me the photograph."
Dante took her hand.
"All right."
She looked frustrated.
"I'm not usually forgetful."
"I know."
"But those days were terrible."
Her eyes filled.
"You were unconscious, and people kept telling me you might die."
Dante nodded.
"Then we're not going to force it tonight."
She stared at him.
"What?"
"We have the memory card."
"But the key—"
"Can wait."
"Dante—"
"You're exhausted."
His voice softened.
"And you don't need another reason to blame yourself."
Maren looked down.
After a long moment, she nodded.
They returned upstairs.
Dante helped her change the dressings according to Bennett's instructions.
He moved slowly.
Carefully.
Whenever she winced, he stopped.
Maren watched him.
"What?" he asked.
She shook her head.
"Nothing."
"Tell me."
She smiled faintly.
"You look very serious."
"I am serious."
"About bandages?"
"About you."
Her expression softened.
He finished securing the dressing.
Then he looked at her injured knees.
"Will they scar?"
Maren shrugged.
"Maybe a little."
His face tightened.
She touched his hand.
"Dante."
He looked up.
"Scars aren't always terrible."
He swallowed.
"These shouldn't have happened."
"No."
She paused.
"But they're mine."
She looked at him steadily.
"I don't want you to look at me and see only what went wrong."
Dante nodded slowly.
"What should I see?"
Maren smiled through her tears.
"Someone who's still here."
He lowered his forehead against hers.
"I see her."
They went to bed.
For a while, Maren lay awake listening to the rain.
Then she spoke.
"Dante?"
"Yes?"
"Do you ever think about children?"
He turned toward her.
The question was unexpected.
"Sometimes."
She looked surprised.
"Really?"
He nodded.
"When?"
"Usually when I see Nico's little nephew."
Maren smiled.
"The one who sent you a drawing of a dinosaur?"
"Yes."
"You kept it?"
"In my office."
Her eyes widened.
"Where?"
"Inside the top drawer."
She laughed softly.
"I thought you threw it away."
"Absolutely not."
Dante smiled.
"Apparently, I'm the dinosaur's uncle now."
Maren laughed.
Then her expression became serious.
"I used to imagine having a family with you."
He felt something tighten in his chest.
"Used to?"
She looked away.
"After a while, it seemed foolish."
"Why?"
"Because you were never home."
Dante closed his eyes.
"I know."
She turned back toward him.
"I don't know what the future looks like anymore."
"Neither do I."
"Does that frighten you?"
"Yes."
Maren looked surprised.
He continued.
"But I know I want to find out with you."
She reached for his hand.
They lay quietly for a while.
Then Dante said, "We don't have to decide anything tonight."
Maren smiled faintly.
"That's becoming your favorite sentence."
"Apparently, I have spent years making decisions too quickly."
"Apparently."
He kissed her forehead.
At three in the morning, Maren woke from a dream.
She had been running through a hospital corridor.
Somewhere behind her, a woman kept repeating the same words.
Don't let them have the key.
Maren sat upright.
"Dante."
He woke immediately.
"What is it?"
"I remember."
He turned on the bedside lamp.
Maren's eyes were wide.
"The key."
"Where?"
She looked toward the dresser.
"My mother's wooden box."
Dante frowned.
"The box that disappeared?"
Maren shook her head.
"No."
She took a breath.
"I hid the key inside the lining before the box went missing."
Dante stared.
"Then Pike might already have it."
"Maybe."
Maren looked toward the closet.
"But he doesn't know what I did afterward."
Dante leaned closer.
"What did you do?"
She swallowed.
"I removed the lining."
He waited.
"And sewed it into something else."
"What?"
Maren looked at him.
"Your wedding jacket."
Dante froze.
"The jacket I wore when we got married?"
She nodded.
"Inside the left sleeve."
He stared at his wife.
Then he did something neither expected.
He began to laugh.
Maren blinked.
"Dante?"
He laughed harder.
She stared at him.
"Have you lost your mind?"
"Possibly."
He shook his head in disbelief.
"Every person involved in this has spent a year searching for a key."
Maren watched him.
"And?"
He smiled.
"And you've had it hidden in my wedding jacket the entire time."
For the first time that night, she laughed too.
Then Dante's smile faded.
Because he remembered something.
The wedding jacket wasn't in his closet anymore.
It had been sent to a specialist tailor for alterations.
May you like
Three days earlier.
On Leonard Pike's recommendation.
