Chapter 3 - THE BABY IN THE PHOTOGRAPH|
Nico Santoro had buried his mother twenty-nine years earlier.
He'd been twelve years old when she'd died.
For most of his adult life, he'd believed she had suffered a fatal heart attack during a family vacation.
Now his seventy-nine-year-old father was sitting in front of him, claiming that a baby in an old photograph was connected to her death.
And Victoria Ashford looked as though she already knew why.
"Everybody out."
Nico's voice was quiet.
But nobody mistook it for a request.
Patrick Sloan and his colleague immediately retreated into the hallway.
Emily hesitated beside Antonio.
Nico looked at her.
"Stay close enough to help my father if he needs you."
She nodded.
Then he turned toward Victoria.
"You stay."
Victoria crossed her arms.
"This is ridiculous."
Nico held up the photograph.
"Then it should be easy to explain."
She looked away.
"I don't know what your father is talking about."
Antonio shook his head.
"Liar."
The single word startled everyone.
Victoria turned sharply.
"Excuse me?"
Antonio's hands trembled.
"You know."
Nico stepped between them.
"Dad, don't strain yourself."
His father looked at him with an expression that made my heart ache.
For years, Antonio Santoro had been a powerful man.
Now he was struggling to reveal something he'd apparently kept buried for decades.
Nico pulled a chair beside him.
"Take your time."
Antonio nodded.
Then he pointed toward the photograph.
"Rosa knows."
I looked toward the door.
Rosa was downstairs, probably still trying to understand how an engagement party had become a nightmare.
Nico turned toward Anthony.
"Bring Rosa upstairs."
Anthony left immediately.
Victoria moved toward the doorway.
"I don't need to participate in this."
Nico looked at her.
"You're not leaving until I understand why you tried to remove my father from his home."
She stopped.
He continued.
"And why you arranged for a medical assessment without his consent."
Victoria lifted her chin.
"I was protecting you."
Nico laughed bitterly.
"From what?"
"Your family's problems."
He stared at her.
"My family isn't a problem."
She shook her head.
"You have no idea what your father has been hiding."
Antonio made a frightened sound.
Nico turned toward him immediately.
"Dad?"
But Antonio was staring at Victoria.
His hands had tightened around the arms of his chair.
I crouched beside him.
"Mr. Antonio, would you like me to call Rosa?"
He nodded urgently.
"Please."
I placed a hand over his trembling fingers.
"She's coming."
Victoria looked at me with open disgust.
"Sophie, stop encouraging him."
I stood.
"I'm helping him, ma'am."
"You're a maid."
Nico turned toward her.
"Enough."
She stared at him.
He continued.
"You've spent tonight treating the people who cared for my family as though they were disposable."
Victoria's face tightened.
"That's unfair."
"No."
He stepped closer.
"What's unfair is that Rosa spent thirty-seven years feeding me, comforting me, and keeping this house running, only to be told she had to leave her home."
Victoria opened her mouth.
He raised his hand.
"And what's unforgivable is that my father believed I wanted him gone."
For once, Victoria had nothing to say.
A moment later, Rosa entered the room.
She was still wearing her dark apron.
Her silver hair had been pinned back.
But her face was pale.
"Nicky?"
Nico handed her the photograph.
"Do you recognize this?"
The instant Rosa saw it, she stopped moving.
Her fingers began trembling.
"Oh, Lord."
I stepped closer.
"Mrs. Alvarez?"
She sat heavily on the edge of the bed.
For several seconds, she couldn't speak.
Then she looked toward Antonio.
"You kept it."
The elderly man nodded.
Rosa pressed the photograph against her chest.
"I thought it was gone."
Nico crouched beside her.
"Rosa, whose baby is that?"
She began crying.
"Nicky, your mother made me promise."
"Promise what?"
"That I wouldn't tell you until the time was right."
Nico looked toward the photograph.
"And when was that supposed to be?"
Rosa shook her head.
"I don't know anymore."
Victoria moved toward the door.
Anthony immediately stepped into her path.
Nico noticed.
"Victoria, why are you trying to leave?"
She turned.
"Because I refuse to be interrogated by the household staff."
Rosa looked up.
"This isn't about you being embarrassed, Miss Ashford."
Victoria froze.
Rosa's voice remained gentle.
"But it's time you stopped hiding behind your father's name."
Nico frowned.
"Her father?"
Victoria looked toward Rosa with sudden fury.
"Don't."
Rosa closed her eyes.
Then she looked at Nico.
"The baby in that photograph was named Elena."
Nico stared.
"Elena who?"
Rosa looked toward Antonio.
He nodded slowly.
"Elena Marquez."
I looked down at the photograph.
The young woman holding the baby had dark hair and frightened eyes.
She wore a simple floral dress.
Rosa continued.
"Elena's mother worked for your family."
Nico frowned.
"I don't remember her."
"You were very young."
"What happened to her?"
Rosa took a breath.
"She disappeared."
The room fell silent.
Nico's expression changed.
"Disappeared?"
Rosa nodded.
"One evening, she went to meet someone about documents she'd found."
"What documents?"
Rosa looked toward Victoria.
"Financial records."
Victoria stared at her.
Nico spoke carefully.
"Are you saying Elena's mother found something illegal?"
Rosa nodded.
"She was a bookkeeper."
"Working for whom?"
Rosa's eyes filled.
"Your father's business partner."
Nico turned toward Antonio.
"Which partner?"
His father lowered his head.
Rosa whispered a name.
"Charles Ashford."
Victoria's father.
Nobody moved.
Then Nico looked toward his fiancée.
"Your father?"
Victoria shook her head.
"That woman was a thief."
Rosa stood abruptly.
"No."
The force in her voice startled me.
In eight months, I'd never heard Rosa raise her voice.
She pointed toward the photograph.
"Maria Marquez was a good woman."
Victoria laughed bitterly.
"She stole company money."
Rosa shook her head.
"That's what your father told everyone."
Nico stepped forward.
"What really happened?"
Rosa looked at him.
"Maria discovered that Charles Ashford was taking money from accounts connected to your mother's charitable foundation."
Nico went still.
"My mother's foundation?"
Rosa nodded.
"She kept records."
"Where are they?"
"Your mother hid them."
Nico looked toward the walnut chest.
"Inside that box?"
Rosa nodded.
Victoria suddenly reached for her phone.
Anthony stepped closer.
"Miss Ashford, please put that away."
She glared at him.
Nico ignored her.
"What happened to Maria?"
Rosa swallowed.
"She went missing two days after she told your mother."
"And the baby?"
Rosa's face crumpled.
"Your mother brought Elena here."
Nico frowned.
"Here?"
"To the cottage."
Rosa nodded.
"She asked me to look after her temporarily."
"What happened next?"
Rosa looked toward Antonio.
The elderly man's eyes were filled with tears.
"Your mother tried to expose Charles."
Nico's expression hardened.
"And then she died."
Rosa nodded.
For several seconds, nobody spoke.
Then Nico stood.
He looked toward the portrait of his mother hanging above the fireplace.
All his life, he'd believed she'd died naturally.
Now he was learning that she had been investigating stolen money and a missing woman shortly before her death.
"Who told me she had a heart attack?"
Antonio looked down.
Rosa whispered, "Your father."
Nico slowly turned.
"Dad?"
Antonio began shaking.
"Nicholas..."
Nico knelt beside him.
"Tell me."
His father struggled to speak.
"Charles."
"What about him?"
"Threatened."
Nico's face changed.
"Threatened whom?"
Antonio looked toward Rosa.
Then toward the photograph.
"Baby."
I felt cold.
Victoria suddenly laughed.
"This is a fairy tale."
Nico stood.
"Don't speak."
She stared at him.
He looked toward Rosa.
"What happened to Elena?"
Rosa wiped her cheeks.
"Your mother arranged for her to be taken somewhere safe."
"Where?"
"A family in Pennsylvania."
Nico frowned.
"And then?"
Rosa shook her head.
"I never saw her again."
"Did you know whether she was alive?"
"For a few years."
Rosa looked down.
"Then the letters stopped."
I watched Nico struggle with the information.
A missing mother.
A hidden baby.
Stolen charity funds.
And his own mother's sudden death.
It was too much to understand in one evening.
He looked toward Victoria.
"Did your father know where Elena was?"
She said nothing.
Nico stepped closer.
"Victoria."
Her expression hardened.
"You should stop asking questions."
He stared at her.
"Is that a threat?"
She lifted her chin.
"It's advice."
Antonio suddenly reached for my hand.
"Sophie."
I bent beside him.
"Yes, sir?"
"Box."
I looked toward the wardrobe.
"The wooden chest?"
He nodded.
"Key."
"Where is it?"
He looked toward Rosa.
She slowly reached beneath the collar of her blouse.
A small brass key hung from a chain around her neck.
Nico stared.
"Rosa?"
Her eyes filled.
"Your mother gave me this the week before she died."
She removed the chain.
Then placed the key in Nico's hand.
"She said that if the truth ever came back to this house, I'd know when to use it."
Nico approached the wardrobe.
Anthony lifted down the walnut chest.
Nico placed it on the desk.
Then inserted the key.
The lock clicked.
Inside were old photographs, letters, and a leather-bound notebook.
Beneath them lay a sealed envelope.
Across the front, in careful handwriting, were five words.
"FOR MY SON, NICHOLAS SANTORO."
Nico stared.
He recognized his mother's handwriting immediately.
For a moment, he couldn't move.
Then he opened the envelope.
Inside was a single letter.
He read silently.
His face lost its color.
Rosa began crying again.
Nico looked toward his father.
"Dad..."
Antonio lowered his eyes.
Nico looked down at the letter.
Then at Victoria.
"What does your father know about my mother's death?"
Victoria swallowed.
"Nico, please."
He stepped toward her.
"Answer me."
She shook her head.
"I can't."
"Can't?"
Her eyes filled.
"Because if I tell you, he'll come after everyone in this room."
Nobody spoke.
Then Antonio suddenly gripped the arm of his chair.
His voice was weak.
But unmistakable.
"He already has."
Nico turned.
His father looked toward the doorway.
May you like
Then whispered the words that made my blood run cold.
"Charles knows Rosa kept the key."
