Chapter 2 - THE NAME ELIAS HAD NOT HEARD SINCE THE FUNERAL“What did you say?”
Adeline tightened both arms around the newborn.
“Rosie.”
Elias stared at the infant.
“No.”
The young woman’s face changed.
“No?”
“You said something before that.”
Lightning flashed across the greenhouse glass.
Adeline swallowed.
“My name?”
“Vance.”
Bernadette Quinn looked between them.
“What am I missing?”
Elias barely heard her.
“Who are you?”
The question came sharper than he intended.
The baby startled.
Adeline immediately curled around her.
Elias hated himself for it.
He lowered his voice.
“Who are you?”
“My full name is Adeline Marie Vance.”
“Rosalind’s family?”
Adeline looked almost surprised he had guessed.
“She was my aunt.”
For three years, Elias had successfully avoided speaking his wife’s maiden name whenever possible.
Rosalind Vance Falcone.
Forty years old when she died.
Thirty-seven when he married her.
Brilliant.
Stubborn.
The only woman who had ever walked into his office without waiting to be invited.
She had died on a freezing February night when her car left Route 127 and struck a retaining wall twelve miles north of Grayport.
Elias had buried her six days later.
He had buried other things too.
Questions.
Anger.
A marriage that had been collapsing before the crash.
And the photograph somebody had anonymously sent him forty-eight hours before Rosalind died.
Rosalind entering a Boston hotel with another man.
His hand against the small of her back.
Her face turned toward him.
The same man had appeared in two more photographs.
Caleb Vance.
Attorney.
Rosalind’s second cousin.
At least that was what she had claimed.
Elias had not believed her.
He had believed the photographs.
Sometimes he still heard their final argument.
You don’t trust me.
I trust what I can see.
Then you deserve what you think you see.
She had left Ashgrove that evening.
And never come home.
Now her niece was bleeding on the greenhouse floor holding a newborn she had named Rosie.
Elias looked at Adeline.
“Why are you here?”
Bernadette snapped, “She just delivered a baby.”
“I can see that.”
“Then perhaps interrogate her after she stops shaking.”
Adeline shook her head.
“No.”
Bernadette turned.
“No?”
“I need to tell him before anyone else gets here.”
“Tell me what?”
Adeline looked toward the greenhouse door.
Fear returned immediately.
“Who knows I work here?”
“Mrs. Quinn hired you.”
“Who else?”
Elias’s instincts sharpened.
“Answer mine first.”
Adeline closed her eyes.
“Aunt Rosalind told me if I was ever in serious trouble, Ashgrove was the one place I should come.”
Elias stopped.
“When?”
“Four years ago.”
“Rosalind died three years ago.”
“I know.”
“Why would she tell you that?”
Adeline looked at him.
“Because she thought someone inside your family was dangerous.”
Elias became perfectly still.
Bernadette quietly moved the baby higher against Adeline’s chest.
“Name.”
Adeline hesitated.
“Dante.”
The storm seemed to disappear.
Dante Falcone.
Elias’s younger half-brother.
Thirty-six.
Chief financial officer of Falcone Marine Holdings.
The man who had sat beside Elias at Rosalind’s funeral.
The man who had held Elias upright when the coffin went into the ground.
The man who currently controlled half the legitimate financial systems Elias had spent a decade building.
And the man married for eight years to Celeste Navarro Falcone.
Elias looked at the baby.
Then at Adeline.
“No.”
Adeline gave a broken laugh.
“That was my reaction too.”
Bernadette whispered, “Oh, Lord.”
Elias stared.
“Dante is the father.”
“Yes.”
“Are you certain?”
Adeline’s eyes hardened.
“There hasn’t been anyone else.”
“When?”
“Last winter.”
“Where did you meet?”
“The Harbor Crown.”
One of Elias’s hotels.
Of course.
“I worked nights in event accounting.”
“You were not a maid.”
“No.”
“Why are you one now?”
“Because Anna Reed passed the background check your real name wouldn’t.”
“Why wouldn’t Vance?”
“Because Dante was looking for me.”
Elias’s jaw tightened.
“Start at the beginning.”
Adeline looked down at Rosie.
“The beginning depends which lie you want first.”
Elias did not like that sentence.
“The affair.”
She flinched slightly.
“I didn’t know it was an affair.”
Bernadette’s expression softened.
“Dante told you he was separated.”
Adeline nodded.
“He said Celeste had moved into their Boston apartment permanently.”
Elias knew that was false.
Dante and Celeste appeared together publicly almost every week.
“He said they were staying married for business.”
Another classic lie.
“He wore his ring.”
Adeline looked embarrassed.
“I know.”
“Why believe him?”
“Because I wanted to.”
At least she did not pretend otherwise.
“He was kind at first.”
Flowers.
Dinner after shifts.
A rented apartment in Gloucester.
No photographs.
No restaurants connected to Falcone properties.
Adeline thought he was protecting privacy.
He was protecting adultery.
“When did you learn the truth?” Elias asked.
“Five months ago.”
She had been almost four months pregnant.
Celeste appeared unexpectedly at Harbor Crown during a charity reception.
Not separated.
Not estranged.
She kissed Dante in front of photographers.
Adeline confronted him later.
“He said he had been trying to find the right time.”
Elias nearly laughed.
Cowards always seemed to be waiting for the right time.
“Then?”
“He asked me to terminate the pregnancy.”
Bernadette’s face hardened.
Elias said nothing.
“I refused.”
Adeline’s fingers trembled against Rosie’s blanket.
“He offered money.”
“How much?”
“Three hundred thousand.”
“Through what?”
“I don’t know.”
“You saw paperwork?”
“Yes.”
“Account?”
“Falcone Family Advisory Trust.”
That got Elias’s attention.
Dante did not have unilateral authority over that trust.
At least he was not supposed to.
“What happened after you refused?”
Adeline pulled back her sleeve.
The bruises were older now.
Yellow-green.
Finger-shaped.
“Dante didn’t do that himself.”
Elias’s voice became quiet.
“Who?”
“Two men came to my apartment.”
“Names?”
“I only knew one.”
“Who?”
“Mason Pike.”
Elias stopped breathing for half a second.
Mason had worked estate security for nine years.
He had been on duty the night Rosalind died.
The connections were multiplying too fast.
“What did Mason want?”
“The pregnancy paperwork.”
“What paperwork?”
“Ultrasounds. Medical records. Anything proving dates.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know.”
Adeline looked toward Rosie.
“They told me I had forty-eight hours to disappear.”
“Or?”
“They didn’t say.”
“They didn’t need to.”
Bernadette muttered something deeply unkind about men.
Elias agreed internally.
“How did you get to Ashgrove?”
“Rosalind.”
Elias frowned.
“She’s dead.”
Adeline reached inside the soaked bodice of her uniform.
She removed a plastic pouch.
Inside was an old envelope.
Cream stationery.
Water-stained edges.
His wife’s handwriting.
Elias recognized it instantly.
Adeline handed it to him.
He did not take it.
For the first time in eleven years, Elias Falcone was afraid of paper.
“Open it,” Adeline whispered.
He did.
Addie,
If you ever need somewhere that Dante cannot easily control, go to Ashgrove. Find Bernadette Quinn. Do not contact Elias until you are physically safe.
Elias looked up sharply.
Bernadette had gone pale.
“You knew?”
Bernadette shook her head.
“Not this.”
The letter continued.
Elias will be angry if he learns I gave you the estate as a refuge. Let him be angry. He is often angry before he is useful.
Despite everything, Elias almost heard Rosalind saying it.
That hurt.
Then came the line that changed him.
If I am gone when you read this, there is a chance Elias still believes I betrayed him.
I did not.
Do not waste time defending me unless it becomes necessary to keep you alive.
Elias read it twice.
His fingers tightened.
Adeline whispered, “There’s another page.”
There was.
Rosalind had written:
The things Dante is doing are connected to the Harbor Trust, and possibly to what happened with Caleb. If Elias ever decides to look again, tell him to start with the white roses, not the photographs.
Elias stared toward the dead rose beds.
White roses.
Rosalind’s roses.
The surviving branch near the wall.
Three flowers.
His throat tightened.
“What does that mean?”
Adeline shook her head.
“I don’t know.”
“Did Rosalind?”
“She didn’t tell me everything.”
“Why would she discuss Dante with you four years ago?”
Adeline hesitated.
Then looked at Bernadette.
Bernadette understood first.
“Because this isn’t the first woman.”
Adeline’s eyes filled.
“No.”
Elias felt something colder than the storm.
“Who?”
“My older sister.”
“What happened to her?”
“Her name was Caroline Vance.”
The name struck a memory.
A woman found dead in a hotel bathtub five years ago.
Accidental overdose.
At Harbor Crown.
Elias had seen the report because the death occurred on Falcone property.
Caroline Vance.
Twenty-eight.
Visiting from Providence.
He had never connected her to Rosalind.
Or Dante.
Adeline continued.
“Caroline had an affair with Dante.”
Elias stared.
“She knew he was married?”
“No. He wasn’t married yet.”
“Then why call it an affair?”
Adeline’s face twisted.
“Because he was engaged to Celeste.”
Silence.
“Rosalind found out after Caroline died.”
“How?”
“Caroline kept messages.”
Elias’s voice became dangerous.
“Did Dante kill her?”
“I don’t know.”
Good.
No guessing.
“But Rosalind thought her death was wrong.”
That was enough.
Elias looked down at his wife’s letter.
Dante.
Caroline.
Adeline.
Rosalind.
Mason.
Caleb.
The Harbor Trust.
White roses.
The grave he had kept emotionally sealed for three years began opening one inch at a time.
Then footsteps sounded outside.
Fast.
Multiple.
Elias instantly moved between the greenhouse door and the women.
Mason Pike’s voice came through the storm.
“Mr. Falcone?”
Adeline’s face emptied.
“No.”
Bernadette whispered, “He knows.”
Mason knocked.
“Sir, we heard there may be a medical emergency.”
Elias looked at Adeline.
She clutched Rosie against her chest.
“I didn’t tell anyone.”
Neither had Bernadette.
Elias had only radioed her.
Which meant someone was monitoring house communications.
Mason knocked again.
“Mr. Falcone?”
Elias slowly reached for the pistol beneath his jacket.
Then stopped.
Rosalind’s letter was still in his other hand.
Do not contact Elias until you are physically safe.
She had known him well enough to know what his first instinct would be.
Violence.
He changed course.
He took out his phone and called Massachusetts State Police.
Mason knocked a third time.
Elias answered loudly enough for him to hear.
“One moment.”
Then to the dispatcher:
“My name is Elias Falcone. I have a woman and newborn at Ashgrove who may be victims of coercion and assault. The bridge is down. I need a documented response as soon as conditions permit.”
Bernadette stared at him.
Adeline did too.
The old Elias would have handled Mason himself.
The old Falcone family would have buried the problem internally.
Elias looked toward the white roses.
Rosalind had already paid for that kind of silence.
Nobody else would.
When he opened the greenhouse door, Mason Pike stood outside with two security men.
His eyes moved past Elias.
Toward Adeline.
Then toward the newborn.
For one fraction of a second, fear crossed Mason’s face.
Not surprise.
Recognition.
Elias saw it.
And he understood something terrible.
May you like
Mason had not come because he heard about a medical emergency.
He had come to see whether the baby had survived.
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