Chapter 9 - THE KITCHEN WITH THE BLUE DOOR|
I stared at my phone.
"The kitchen with the blue door."
Luca looked at me.
"What?"
"That's what your mother said."
His expression changed.
For several seconds, he didn't move.
Then he whispered, "Lucia's Kitchen."
I frowned.
"What's that?"
He looked toward Evelyn.
"The first restaurant I ever owned."
I had heard stories about Luca's early business ventures.
But I knew very little about the place where he'd started.
He turned back to me.
"It was a small diner on the South Side."
"Did it have a blue door?"
"My mother painted it herself."
His eyes filled with tears.
"She said the color reminded her of her childhood home."
I looked at Detective Torres.
"Could that be where Rosa is?"
"It's a lead worth checking immediately."
Luca was already reaching for his coat.
Torres stopped him.
"We need to approach this carefully."
"She's my mother."
"I understand."
"Those people tried to poison her."
"And rushing into a possible hostage situation could put her in greater danger."
Luca stopped.
For a moment, I saw the old Luca Moretti.
The man who commanded armed guards.
The man whose anger could empty a crowded room.
Then something changed.
He lowered his coat.
"What do you need from me?"
Detective Torres gave him instructions.
Within minutes, officers were checking the property and nearby traffic cameras.
The diner had closed years earlier.
According to city records, the building was still owned by a company associated with Moretti Hospitality.
Dominic controlled its property-management arrangements.
That gave him a reason to know the building and access it.
But there was another reason the location mattered.
Evelyn opened the old corporate records.
"Lucia's Kitchen was where the family business began."
Luca nodded.
"My mother gave me her savings to open it."
"How much?"
"Eight thousand dollars."
He smiled sadly.
"She'd spent almost twenty years saving that money."
I pictured Rosa as a younger woman.
Working long shifts.
Counting every dollar.
Choosing her son's future over her own comfort.
"She told me not to give up when the first winter almost bankrupted us."
Luca looked toward the window.
"She cooked soup for customers who couldn't afford dinner."
I swallowed.
"That sounds like her."
Evelyn continued examining the records.
Then she frowned.
"There's something else."
"What?"
"The trust's original ownership records were once stored at that restaurant."
Luca turned.
"Why?"
"Before the company expanded, it was the family headquarters."
She pointed to a notation.
"Some of the original signed documents were retained in a secure cabinet there before being transferred to our office."
"Could Dominic be looking for them?"
"Possibly."
Luca looked at me.
"If he needs my mother's cooperation to support forged paperwork, that may explain why she's still alive."
The thought made me feel sick.
Rosa was no longer simply a victim they wanted hidden.
She was someone they needed to control.
Detective Torres received a message from one of the officers.
Traffic cameras had captured a dark medical transport vehicle traveling south shortly after Rosa disappeared.
The vehicle's license plate was partly obscured.
But its route was consistent with the area around the old diner.
Torres immediately coordinated a response.
While we waited, I remembered something strange about Rosa's phone call.
"She sounded like she was speaking from inside a large room."
Luca looked at me.
"What makes you say that?"
"There was an echo."
I closed my eyes.
"And I heard something metallic moving."
He thought for a moment.
"The old kitchen had a heavy rolling storage rack."
"Would it still be there?"
"I don't know."
Then another memory surfaced.
Several months earlier, Rosa had shown me a faded photograph.
She was standing outside a little restaurant.
A young Luca had one arm around her shoulders.
Behind them was a bright blue door.
"She kept that picture beside her bed."
Luca nodded.
"I remember."
I looked at him.
"Vanessa removed it."
His face hardened.
"Why?"
"Maybe because Rosa kept talking about the restaurant."
Evelyn examined the property documents again.
"Dominic ordered a building inspection two weeks ago."
Luca stared.
"Two weeks?"
"Yes."
"Without telling me?"
"The request came from his office."
Detective Torres entered the room again.
"We've located the transport vehicle."
My heart leaped.
"Where?"
"Near the old restaurant."
Luca immediately stood.
"Is my mother inside?"
"We don't know yet."
Torres looked directly at him.
"Officers are securing the area."
He nodded.
"I'll stay out of their way."
I knew how difficult that promise was for him.
But he kept it.
We waited in a vehicle several blocks away while officers approached the building.
The minutes felt endless.
Every passing car made me flinch.
Every radio transmission made Luca sit forward.
Then a new message came through.
The medical transport vehicle was empty.
Its rear doors were open.
There were fresh tire marks behind the restaurant.
And someone had recently broken the lock on the service entrance.
My heart sank.
Had they moved Rosa again?
Suddenly, an officer's voice came over the radio.
"Possible movement inside."
Luca gripped my hand.
Another transmission followed.
"Female voice heard near the rear kitchen."
I stopped breathing.
Then the officer said something that made Luca close his eyes.
"She's calling for her son."
But before anyone could reach her, another voice came over the radio.
"Adult male spotted leaving through the loading area."
A pause.
"Suspect is carrying a black briefcase."
Detective Torres leaned toward the radio.
"Do you have identification?"
The answer came immediately.
"Confirmed."
May you like
"Dominic Rinaldi."
And he was heading toward the financial district, where the company's Friday meeting was about to begin.
