Chapter 9 - The Photograph Vanessa Never Expected Us to Find|
The first time I saw Vanessa look genuinely afraid, she was standing in front of an old family photograph.
It happened the following morning.
I had been helping Rosa organize the photographs from her bedroom because she wanted to prepare a small album for her grandchildren.
The grandchildren weren't visiting that week.
In fact, Rosa admitted she simply wanted something pleasant to do while everyone else discussed lawyers and police reports.
I understood.
After days of frightening revelations, she deserved an ordinary morning.
We spread old photographs across her bed.
There were pictures of Luca learning to ride a bicycle.
Olivia holding a trophy from high school.
Matteo asleep on Frank's shoulder at a baseball game.
Rosa laughed at one photograph showing all three children covered in flour.
"Your father tried to teach them how to make pasta."
She shook her head.
"They turned the kitchen into a battlefield."
I smiled.
"Did he get angry?"
"Oh, no."
Her eyes softened.
"He laughed until he cried."
Then she handed me a thick envelope.
"These were from the last charity gathering Frank hosted."
I opened it carefully.
The photographs showed a formal reception at the mansion.
Guests stood beneath the chandeliers.
Tables were decorated with white roses.
Frank appeared in several pictures, smiling beside donors and local business owners.
In one photograph, he stood near the entrance to his study.
A woman in a dark green dress was speaking to him.
I stopped.
"Mrs. Rosa?"
She looked up.
"What is it?"
I showed her the photograph.
"Is that Vanessa?"
Rosa leaned forward.
Then her expression changed.
"Yes."
I studied the image more closely.
Vanessa stood beside Julian Cross.
Frank appeared unhappy.
And behind them, reflected in a large antique mirror, was a portion of the study hallway.
The photograph had been taken shortly before Frank died.
But that wasn't the most interesting part.
Rosa pointed toward the edge.
"That's Daniel."
The former driver appeared in the mirror, holding his phone.
I remembered the photograph he had shown us the previous afternoon.
The position of the people was nearly identical.
But the photographer's image was wider.
It showed something Daniel's photograph did not.
A small brass key protruded from the lock on the outside of Frank's study door.
I felt my heart begin to race.
"Mrs. Rosa, look."
She adjusted her glasses.
Then she covered her mouth.
"Oh, dear God."
I didn't touch the photograph again.
Instead, I called Luca.
He arrived with Gideon less than twenty minutes later.
Gideon examined the original print under a bright lamp.
"Interesting."
Luca leaned over his shoulder.
"What?"
Gideon pointed toward the mirror.
"That appears to be a key in the exterior lock."
Luca stared at the photograph.
"Can you tell who put it there?"
"No."
Gideon shook his head.
"But we can identify the photographer and seek the original digital file."
He glanced at the envelope.
"Do we know when this picture was taken?"
Rosa nodded.
"The foundation dinner."
She looked toward Luca.
"Your father died later that night."
Luca's face tightened.
He studied the photograph again.
For several seconds, he said nothing.
Then he turned toward his mother.
"Mama, did Papa usually lock his study?"
"Sometimes."
"From the outside?"
Rosa shook her head.
"Never while he was inside."
Gideon carefully returned the photograph to its envelope.
"This doesn't prove what happened."
He looked at Luca.
"But it gives us a specific detail to investigate."
At that moment, Vanessa appeared in the doorway.
"What are you all doing?"
Nobody answered immediately.
Her eyes moved toward the photographs.
Then she saw the image on the table.
Her face changed.
"What is that?"
Rosa spoke before anyone else.
"Pictures from Frank's last dinner."
Vanessa's lips tightened.
"I thought those were destroyed."
The words escaped before she could stop them.
Luca slowly turned.
"Why would they have been destroyed?"
Vanessa blinked.
"I meant I thought Rosa had thrown them away."
Rosa sat straighter.
"I never throw away photographs of my husband."
Vanessa forced a laugh.
"Of course."
But her eyes remained fixed on the envelope.
Luca took one step toward her.
"Would you like to explain why you told me you barely knew my father?"
Vanessa looked irritated.
"I've already explained that."
"Then explain why you were meeting him and Julian Cross on the night he died."
"I was attending a fundraiser."
"Inside his private study?"
Vanessa folded her arms.
"You're turning ordinary conversations into accusations."
Gideon rose.
"Mrs. Moretti, I'm Gideon Shaw."
Vanessa looked at him suspiciously.
"I know who you are."
Gideon nodded.
"Then you understand why I'm asking questions."
She turned toward Luca.
"You hired a private investigator to investigate your own wife?"
Luca didn't blink.
"I hired him to investigate what happened to my father."
Vanessa's expression hardened.
"You're making a mistake."
"Possibly."
Luca looked at the photograph.
"But I intend to find out."
Vanessa took a breath.
Then she smiled.
It was the same smile I had seen at dinner parties when she wanted everyone to believe she was in control.
"Fine."
She turned toward me.
"Claire, may I speak with you privately?"
My stomach tightened.
Luca immediately looked at me.
"You don't have to."
Vanessa laughed lightly.
"Oh, don't be ridiculous."
She looked straight into my eyes.
"I only want to apologize for the misunderstanding about your position."
Something about the sudden change in her tone frightened me more than her anger.
Still, I agreed to speak with her in the smaller breakfast room.
I left the door open.
Vanessa noticed.
"Are you afraid of me, Claire?"
I looked at her calmly.
"I think everyone deserves to know when a conversation is private."
Her smile disappeared.
She reached into her handbag.
Then she placed a white envelope on the table.
I stared at it.
"What is that?"
Vanessa leaned closer.
"An opportunity."
I didn't touch the envelope.
She tapped it with one carefully manicured finger.
"Two hundred thousand dollars."
My breath caught.
Vanessa smiled again.
"Enough money to change your life."
I looked up.
"What do you want?"
May you like
Her voice dropped.
"I want the blue box, Claire, and I want you to help me make sure Rosa never tells another story about the night Frank died."
