Chapter 7
My mother had hired Rosa Alvarez twenty-six years earlier.
She was the only person in the house who could look at me like I was an irritating twelve-year-old and survive the experience.
“The Blue Room,” I said.
“Good.”
“And Lily?”
“With her mother.”
“Obviously.”
Mrs. Alvarez smiled.
“You’re learning.”
“I’m going back to my office.”
“At three twenty-seven in the morning.”
“I have work.”
“No. You have questions.”
I looked at her.
“That too.”
She started walking away, then stopped.
“Mr. Moretti?”
“Yes?”
“Children don’t choose people because of their reputations.”
I frowned.
“What does that mean?”
“Lily passed my room, Mr. Russo’s office, two guest rooms, and the night attendant’s station to reach you.”
I said nothing.
“She chose your door.”
Then Mrs. Alvarez disappeared around the corner.
I did not sleep.
At seven fifteen, Daniel walked into my office carrying coffee and a folder.
“Good news or bad news?”
“Those categories stopped being useful around four.”
He put both on my desk.
“We found how Kane got in.”
I opened the folder.
“Employee entrance?”
“Contractor.”
A maintenance company had serviced the kitchen refrigeration units that afternoon.
One technician had remained on the property forty-seven minutes longer than his work order required.
“That isn’t Victor.”
“No. But his van left with two people.”
Daniel showed me a blurry camera still.
The passenger’s face wasn’t visible.
But the build, silver hair, and tailored coat looked like Victor.
“How did the camera override happen?”
“The technician cloned an access credential from a service terminal.”
“And used yours?”
“He copied the highest local authorization the system displayed.”
I leaned back.
“So Victor came here to see Claire.”
“Looks that way.”
“Without knowing she had already told Lily who he was.”
“Looks that way.”
“Do we have enough to confront him?”
“Probably.”
“Enough to prove why he came?”
“No.”
That was the problem.
Victor had entered my property improperly.
I could make an issue of that.
But if I did, he would know we were looking.
And right now our advantage was that Victor didn’t know what Lily had heard, what Claire had told me, or what my father had left behind.
“Find out everything you can about safe-deposit boxes connected to Samuel Bennett, Thomas Bennett, Claire, and the number 317.”
“That may require cooperation.”
“Get it legally.”
Daniel smiled slightly.
“You really did change after your father died.”
“I’m choosing to interpret that as a compliment.”
“It was.”
At nine, I went downstairs.
Lily was eating pancakes at the kitchen table.
Someone had given her one of my old college sweatshirts to wear over her nightgown.
The sleeves hung several inches beyond her hands.
She was pouring syrup with the solemn focus of a chemist.
Claire sat nearby with tea.
“You’re supposed to be resting,” I said.
She looked up.
“I am resting.”
“You’re in the kitchen.”
“I walked twenty feet.”
“Twenty feet too many according to Michael.”
“Dr. Grant also said I’m not made of glass.”
Lily lifted her head.
“Mommy is not glass.”
“Thank you, Lily.”
“She’s Mommy.”
“So I’ve been told.”
Lily studied me.
“You need pancakes.”
“I don’t eat breakfast.”
Both Claire and Mrs. Alvarez, who was standing near the stove, looked at me as if I had admitted to a serious character flaw.
Lily shook her head.
“You have to.”
“Why?”
“So you get big.”
Daniel entered behind me.
He looked me up and down.
“I don’t think that’s currently a concern.”
I ignored him.
Five minutes later there was a plate of pancakes in front of me.
I still don’t know exactly how it happened.
Lily had apparently assumed responsibility for my nutritional rehabilitation.
She pushed the syrup toward me.
“Not too much.”
“Thank you for the guidance.”
Claire hid a smile behind her tea.
For several minutes, the kitchen felt almost normal.
That disturbed me more than I expected.
My house had never sounded like this.
There had been staff conversations.
Business dinners.
Formal Christmas events.
May you like
My mother’s piano before she died.
But not a child explaining to Daniel that rabbits did not eat pancakes because “their tummies have different rules.”
