Chapter 7 - The Body Beneath the Roses|
The greenhouse stood on the outskirts of Chicago, beyond a stretch of abandoned warehouses and overgrown railroad tracks.
When I was a child, it had seemed magical.
Glass walls caught the afternoon sunlight.
White roses climbed wooden trellises.
My mother grew lavender beside the entrance.
Now, most of the windows were broken.
Weeds pushed through the cracked concrete.
And police lights flashed across the empty property.
I stopped beside Massimo's SUV.
"Who died?"
He looked at me.
"We don't know yet."
A detective approached us.
She was in her early forties, with dark hair pulled into a tight ponytail and an expression that suggested she had no patience for nonsense.
"Massimo Romano."
"Detective Brooks."
Her eyes shifted toward me.
"You must be Sophie Miller."
I nodded.
"How do you know my name?"
"Your father's property records brought us here."
She studied me.
"I'm Detective Olivia Brooks, Chicago Police Department."
I looked toward the greenhouse.
"Can I see him?"
"Not yet."
"Do you know who he is?"
Brooks hesitated.
"His identification says Daniel Cross."
I felt the blood leave my face.
"The real estate investor?"
Massimo's jaw tightened.
Brooks noticed.
"You knew him?"
"I met him at the Romano mansion last night," I answered.
The detective immediately became more interested.
"Tell me everything."
I explained the party.
The conversation about the greenhouse.
The mysterious folder.
And the strange events that had followed.
I didn't mention every detail of our fake engagement.
But I told her enough to make her expression darken.
When I finished, Brooks folded her arms.
"Miss Miller, do you understand how serious this is?"
"Believe me, Detective, I'm starting to."
She looked at Massimo.
"Your family seems to be at the center of an extraordinary number of problems."
Massimo didn't argue.
"Then investigate them."
Brooks looked surprised.
"Gladly."
A forensic technician approached.
"Detective, you should see this."
Brooks followed him toward the greenhouse.
I started after her.
Massimo caught my arm.
"Sophie."
"I need to see."
He studied me.
Then he nodded.
Inside, the greenhouse smelled of wet earth and broken glass.
I remembered running between the flowerbeds as a child.
I remembered my mother's laughter.
I remembered my father telling me that roses could survive almost anything if their roots were strong.
Now, yellow evidence markers dotted the floor.
Daniel Cross lay beneath a white sheet near the back wall.
I turned away immediately.
Massimo placed a steadying hand against my shoulder.
"Don't look."
I swallowed hard.
Then I noticed something.
A small brass plaque lay half-buried beneath a collapsed wooden shelf.
My heart stopped.
"That's it."
Massimo followed my gaze.
"What?"
"The plaque."
I pointed.
"Mom planted her first white rose there."
Detective Brooks approached.
"What did you find?"
I explained the letter.
Her expression sharpened.
"Don't touch anything."
She called over a technician.
Within minutes, they carefully lifted the plaque.
Beneath it was a narrow metal compartment embedded in the concrete.
My hands began shaking.
The technician opened it.
Inside lay a small waterproof case.
Brooks put on gloves and removed it.
She opened the case.
There was a silver key.
A flash drive.
And a photograph.
The photograph showed my father standing beside a much younger Massimo Romano.
I stared.
Massimo stared too.
"That's impossible," he whispered.
I looked at him.
"You knew my father?"
He shook his head.
"I don't remember him."
But his face had gone pale.
On the back of the photograph, my father had written five words.
He saved my little girl.
I looked at Massimo.
"What does that mean?"
Massimo took a step backward.
Something flickered across his face.
Recognition.
Fear.
Then grief.
"I remember a fire," he whispered.
I froze.
"What fire?"
"An old warehouse near the river."
His voice sounded distant.
"I was nineteen."
I suddenly remembered.
Smoke.
A little girl crying.
Strong arms lifting me through a broken window.
I'd been twelve.
My father had told me a stranger rescued me when a neighboring storage building caught fire.
I had never known his name.
I stared at Massimo.
"You?"
He looked at me.
"I think so."
The greenhouse seemed to spin.
All these years, I had remembered only a voice telling me not to be afraid.
A voice promising I would get home.
And now that voice belonged to the man standing beside me.
Detective Brooks interrupted.
"We'll need to examine the flash drive."
Massimo nodded.
"Of course."
Brooks placed it inside an evidence bag.
Then her phone rang.
She listened.
Her expression changed.
"You're certain?"
She ended the call and turned toward us.
"Daniel Cross wasn't Daniel Cross."
I blinked.
"What?"
"His fingerprints identify him as Nathaniel Price."
Massimo went rigid.
I looked between them.
"Who is Nathaniel Price?"
Brooks answered.
"A federal financial investigator who disappeared six years ago."
My mouth fell open.
"And there's something else," she continued.
"He wasn't killed here."
"Then why was his body brought to my father's greenhouse?"
Brooks looked directly at Massimo.
"Because someone wanted us to find him."
At that moment, my phone vibrated.
An unknown number had sent me a message.
YOUR FATHER WASN'T THE ONLY ONE KEEPING SECRETS.
May you like
Then another message appeared.
ASK MASSIMO WHAT HAPPENED TO YOUR MOTHER.
