Chapter 3 - THE HOUSE WITH NO BLIND CORNERS
Dante Moretti's estate did not look like a home built by a man who trusted walls.
It looked like a fortress pretending to be architecture.
Tall limestone columns framed the entrance.
Cameras followed the driveway from three angles.
Black iron gates separated the property from the road.
Men with earpieces stood beneath trees that had been trimmed so neatly there was nowhere to hide behind them.
Brielle noticed every camera before the SUV reached the front steps.
She noticed the two guards on the roof too.
"You always count exits?"
Dante sat across from her in the rear seat.
Brielle did not look at him.
"You always watch people count them?"
"Yes."
"Then we both have hobbies."
Sofia sat beside her father clutching a stuffed rabbit someone from the hospital had found for her.
The crushed yellow flower was tucked inside a plastic specimen bag because Sofia had refused to throw it away.
Rosa rode in the front passenger seat.
No one had spoken about the ashes again.
Brielle was not ready.
That did not mean she had forgiven anything.
It only meant exhaustion had temporarily become stronger than anger.
A doctor had released her with a concussion warning, six stitches in her palm, a bruised rib, and orders not to work for several days.
Brielle had almost laughed at the last part.
Missing several days at the diner would normally mean missing rent.
Tonight there was no apartment left to return to.
Dante had told her someone would repair it.
Brielle had told him nobody would touch it until she saw the damage herself.
He had not argued.
That was beginning to make her more suspicious than if he had.
The front door opened before they reached it.
A woman in a navy dress hurried down the steps.
"Miss Sofia."
Sofia left Dante's side and ran into the woman's arms.
"Clara."
Clara hugged the child with a kind of relief Brielle recognized.
It was the relief of someone who had spent hours imagining a body being carried through a door.
Dante watched the reunion.
"Clara Reyes has looked after Sofia since my wife died."
Brielle glanced at him.
It was the first time he had mentioned his wife.
"How long ago?"
"Three years."
"I'm sorry."
Dante's expression did not change.
"So am I."
The answer ended the subject.
Inside, the estate was quieter than Brielle expected.
No marble statues.
No gold railings.
No obvious display of wealth designed to force visitors into admiration.
Dark wood covered the floors.
Family photographs filled one long wall.
Sofia at two years old with frosting across her face.
Rosa laughing in a garden.
Dante beside a beautiful dark-haired woman whose eyes resembled Sofia's.
Brielle slowed.
The woman in the photograph held a folder against her hip.
On its corner was a blue symbol shaped like a small bell.
Brielle stopped completely.
"What?"
Dante followed her gaze.
"That's Celeste."
"The folder."
His eyes moved to it.
"What about it?"
"Your mother said Bellweather."
Rosa turned from the staircase.
Dante stepped closer to the photograph.
"That picture was taken at a foundation event about six months before Celeste died."
"What foundation?"
"Moretti Family Services."
Brielle looked at Rosa.
"Was Bellweather part of it?"
Rosa's silence answered first.
"Yes."
Dante looked at his mother.
"How much of my life have you decided I didn't need to know?"
Rosa's face hardened.
"Enough to keep you alive."
"That answer is losing value."
Sofia looked between them.
Brielle saw the tension reach the child before either adult did.
She crouched despite the protest from her ribs.
"Want to show me where the kitchen is?"
Sofia brightened instantly.
"There's hot chocolate."
"That is a persuasive argument."
Sofia took her uninjured hand.
Dante gave Brielle a look that was almost gratitude.
She ignored it.
The kitchen was larger than the diner where Brielle worked.
Copper pans hung over a stone island.
A pot simmered on the stove.
Clara moved toward a cabinet and reached for mugs.
Her sleeve pulled back.
Brielle saw bruises around her wrist.
Clara yanked the fabric down immediately.
Brielle said nothing.
Sofia climbed onto a stool.
"Daddy says too many marshmallows make it soup."
"Your father is wrong."
Sofia gasped theatrically.
Dante, who had entered behind them, raised one eyebrow.
"You arrived in my house nine minutes ago."
"And already improved it."
Rosa almost smiled.
The warmth lasted six seconds.
Then every light in the kitchen went out.
Sofia froze.
Clara dropped a mug.
Dante moved instantly.
"Down."
He pulled Sofia from the stool and lowered her behind the stone island.
Two red emergency lights came on near the floor.
A guard's voice sounded through Dante's earpiece.
"Main power loss."
"Backup?"
"Generator isn't responding."
Dante drew a pistol from beneath his jacket.
Brielle stared at it.
He noticed.
"Stay behind the island."
She hated the command.
She obeyed because Sofia was beside her.
Footsteps sounded in the hallway.
Dante aimed toward the doorway.
A security officer appeared with a flashlight raised.
"Boss."
Dante lowered his weapon a fraction.
"What happened?"
"Transformer failure."
Brielle looked at the officer's boots.
Mud covered the edges.
Outside had been dry all day.
Then she looked at his right hand.
A faint red line crossed the wrist where a watch usually sat.
The masked gunman on the street had worn a watch with a wide black strap.
Brielle had hit that wrist with the metal chair leg.
"Don't."
Dante turned toward her.
The officer did too.
Brielle pointed at him.
"Don't let him come closer."
The man stiffened.
"Who the hell is she?"
Brielle's eyes stayed on his wrist.
"Show me your left hand."
"What?"
"Show me."
He moved the flashlight from one hand to the other.
There was a cut across his left palm.
Brielle's heartbeat changed.
The gunman had caught the broken chair leg when she swung the first time.
She remembered the metal scraping his glove.
"He was there."
Dante did not ask what she meant.
His gun rose.
The security officer fired first.
The bullet struck the edge of the island.
Stone fragments exploded over Brielle's shoulder.
Clara screamed.
Dante fired twice.
The officer fell backward into the hallway.
Silence followed.
Sofia had gone completely still against Brielle's side.
Brielle covered the child's ears too late.
Dante crossed the kitchen and kicked the fallen gun away.
The officer was alive.
Barely.
Dante knelt beside him.
"Who sent you?"
The man coughed.
Blood touched his teeth.
"You're already dead."
"Who sent you?"
The officer smiled weakly.
Then his eyes moved past Dante to Brielle.
"Ask her."
Brielle's stomach dropped.
"Ask me what?"
The man's grin widened.
"Ask where her sister has been."
His body jerked once.
Dante grabbed his jaw.
"No."
Foam appeared at the corner of the man's mouth.
Dante shouted for a medic.
It made no difference.
The officer was dead within seconds.
Brielle leaned against the island.
"Same poison."
Dante stood.
"Likely."
Rosa entered with two guards behind her.
Her eyes found the body.
"Who is he?"
Dante looked at one of the guards.
"Tell me."
"Eric Halpern."
"How long has he worked here?"
"Eight years."
Dante stared down at the dead man.
"Eight years."
The guard swallowed.
"His background was clean."
Brielle looked around the dark kitchen.
"Backgrounds are paper."
Dante looked at her.
"What are people?"
"What they do when the lights go out."
Something about the answer seemed to stay with him.
The generator finally started.
Lights returned across the kitchen.
Clara was still shaking beside the sink.
Brielle saw her hand move toward the bruise on her wrist.
"Clara."
The woman looked up.
"Who hurt you?"
Clara's face emptied.
Dante turned.
"What?"
Brielle pointed to the sleeve.
Clara backed away.
"It's nothing."
"It isn't."
"I caught it on a door."
Brielle almost smiled at the familiarity of the lie.
"Doors don't leave fingerprints."
Clara's eyes filled with terror.
Then she looked toward the dead security officer.
Dante understood.
"Halpern?"
Clara began to cry silently.
"He told me he would take my son."
Dante crossed the kitchen.
"Where is your son?"
"College in Madison."
"Is he safe?"
"I don't know."
Dante looked at a guard.
"Find him now."
Clara grabbed his sleeve.
"He made me leave a door unlocked last Thursday."
"Which door?"
"Mrs. Moretti's old office."
Dante stopped.
"Celeste's office?"
Clara nodded.
"He went inside for twenty minutes."
Dante's face went pale in a way Brielle had not seen before.
"That room has been sealed since she died."
He left the kitchen at a run.
Brielle followed.
The office was at the end of the second-floor hall.
Dante unlocked it himself.
Dust lay over the desk.
Books lined the walls.
A photograph of Celeste and Sofia stood beside an old lamp.
Dante crossed to a cabinet behind the desk.
The lock had been forced.
Inside were hanging folders.
Most remained untouched.
One space was empty.
Dante stared at the label behind it.
Brielle read the word over his shoulder.
BELLWEATHER.
"What was in there?"
Dante did not answer.
He reached into the cabinet and pulled out a small digital recorder that had fallen behind the folders.
The battery was dead.
A guard brought a cable.
Minutes later, the screen lit.
There was one audio file.
Dante pressed play.
Celeste's voice filled the office.
"If you're hearing this, it means someone found the paper file."
Dante closed his eyes.
Sofia stood in the doorway with Rosa holding her shoulders.
Celeste continued.
"Dante, I'm sorry I kept this from you."
"Your father didn't create Bellweather."
"But he helped hide what it became."
A pause followed.
"And Elena Dawson found the proof."
Brielle's blood went cold.
Celeste took a breath on the recording.
"The ledger did not disappear on Ashland Avenue."
"A child carried the key out of that apartment."
Brielle looked at Dante.
The recorder crackled.
Then Celeste said the sentence that changed the room.
May you like
"Her name was Brielle."
