Chapter 5 - THE KEY THEY TOOK FROM MY NECK
The necklace wasn't in my room.
It wasn't in the snow.
It wasn't inside Roman's coat.
Someone had taken it.
For three years, I'd worn the small brass key because it was one of the final things my father gave me.
He'd been dying from pancreatic cancer.
Weak.
Barely able to sit upright.
Two days before he died, he'd pressed the necklace into my hand.
"Keep this somewhere safe."
"What does it open?"
"You'll know when you need to."
I'd laughed through tears.
"Dad, that sounds like something from a spy movie."
He smiled.
"Maybe I finally became interesting."
Then he'd kissed my forehead.
I never discovered what the key opened.
After his funeral, Lily became my entire world.
Doctors.
Rehabilitation.
Bills.
Debt collectors.
There was never time to search for my father's mystery.
Apparently somebody else had.
"Adrian Cole took it," I said.
Roman's security chief nodded.
"Most likely."
"Where is he?"
"Missing."
Roman looked at the recovered phone.
"Track every contact."
The chief left.
I turned toward Roman.
"What could Dad have hidden?"
He shook his head.
"I don't know."
Then Mrs. Patel appeared at the door.
She looked nervous.
"Claire?"
"Yes?"
"There was something your father gave me."
I stared.
"What?"
She entered carrying a small wooden box.
"I worked at one of Mrs. DeLuca's charity dinners years ago. Your father came to the estate once."
Roman looked toward her.
"When?"
"About four years ago."
Before Dad died.
Mrs. Patel placed the box on my lap.
"He asked me to keep this if anything happened to him."
My hands shook.
"Why didn't you tell me?"
"He said only to give it to you if someone came asking about a key."
The room went silent.
I opened the box.
Inside was a folded map.
A bank deposit receipt.
And a photograph of Charles Mercer meeting with someone outside a warehouse.
Roman leaned closer.
The other man was familiar.
Victor Rourke.
One of Roman's father's oldest advisers.
A man who had supposedly retired seven years earlier.
Roman's jaw tightened.
"What was your father investigating?"
I unfolded the map.
A red circle marked a private storage facility outside Chicago.
Unit 214.
The bank receipt contained a handwritten note.
Claire: if they find the key, they still need the second number.
I turned the page.
Nothing.
"What second number?"
Mrs. Patel shook her head.
Then I noticed something on the photograph.
Dad had written a date beneath it.
12-24-2011.
Christmas Eve.
Fifteen years earlier.
Roman stared at it.
"That's the night my uncle disappeared."
I looked up.
"What uncle?"
"Gabriel DeLuca."
Roman's father's younger brother.
He had vanished after accusing several family associates of stealing from the organization.
Everyone assumed he'd fled overseas.
Now my father had apparently photographed Charles Mercer meeting a DeLuca adviser on the exact night Gabriel disappeared.
Roman sat slowly.
"Claire, your father's secret may have nothing to do with Lily's medical debt."
I swallowed.
"What then?"
His eyes darkened.
"It may prove who betrayed my family fifteen years ago."
Then my phone rang.
Harbor Ridge Rehabilitation Center.
I answered immediately.
"Hello?"
A nurse spoke quickly.
"Ms. Bennett, there's been an incident involving your sister."
My entire body went cold.
"What happened?"
"Someone came asking to remove Lily from the facility."
I stood despite the pain.
"Who?"
The nurse hesitated.
"A woman claiming to be her legal guardian."
My hands shook.
"What woman?"
May you like
The answer nearly stopped my heart.
"Vivian Mercer."
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