Chapter 8 - THE MAN WHO HAD BEEN WATCHING THEM
Elena wanted to leave Boston immediately.
I couldn't blame her.
“We're going back to Maine.”
I nodded.
“Okay.”
She blinked.
Apparently she'd expected a fight.
“I'll arrange security you approve.”
“No Moretti men at the school.”
“Fine.”
“No one follows the boys inside stores.”
“Fine.”
“No armed people visible.”
“Fine.”
Her eyes narrowed.
“You're agreeing too easily.”
“My uncle insured my sons' lives.”
That ended the discussion.
We moved them to Elena's aunt's house outside Portland.
I stayed at a nearby hotel.
Not her house.
Not yet.
The first night, Luca asked why I wasn't staying with them.
Elena answered:
“Because grown-ups need boundaries.”
Luca considered that.
“Did Dad do something bad?”
Dad.
He had called me Dad without asking.
I looked down.
Elena noticed.
“We're still figuring things out,” she said.
Matteo shrugged.
“He looks like us. That's enough for school forms.”
Children simplify what adults destroy.
Arthur audited six years of surveillance around Elena.
There was plenty.
Photos outside schools.
Pediatric appointments.
Grocery stores.
The watcher changed every few months.
Some Moretti contractors.
Some Barrett.
One unknown.
We identified him from a clear image.
Thomas Vale.
The same “Mr. Vale” who contacted Elena during pregnancy.
I expected him to work for my father.
He didn't.
He worked for my mother.
That made no sense.
Caterina had supposedly wanted Elena gone.
Why privately monitor her children for six years?
I confronted my mother at her Boston house.
She didn't deny it.
“I needed to know they were alive.”
“Why?”
Her face tightened.
“Because Victor didn't.”
I stopped.
“What?”
She explained.
Yes, she sent Elena away.
Yes, she lied to me.
Yes, she protected her voting power.
But when she discovered Victor's insurance policies, she understood he'd gone farther than she intended.
“I wanted them hidden.”
“You wanted my children erased from my life.”
“Yes.”
“At least you're honest.”
“Now.”
Fair.
She had secretly assigned Vale to watch them.
Not to harm.
To intervene if Victor moved.
“Did he ever?”
“Twice.”
My stomach dropped.
“When?”
Once when the boys were three.
A stranger attempted to collect them from daycare claiming to be an uncle.
Vale stopped it.
Police classified it as a custody misunderstanding.
Second time:
Eight months ago.
Someone loosened lug nuts on Elena's SUV.
The mechanic caught it before she drove.
Elena never knew.
Neither did I.
My mother had prevented two possible attacks.
That did not absolve her.
But it changed the map.
“Why didn't you tell Dad?”
“Because I didn't know who Victor had compromised.”
“Why not tell me?”
Her eyes filled.
“Because by then I knew you would never forgive me.”
“So instead you continued lying.”
“Yes.”
I almost laughed.
Then she handed me a photograph Vale took one week earlier.
Victor meeting a man outside a marina.
I recognized the man.
Sloane's father.
William Barrett.
The two men weren't merely cooperating in old financial schemes.
They were planning something now.
Arthur traced the marina.
A yacht departed two days ago.
Passenger manifest listed Victor and William.
Destination:
Nova Scotia.
One additional passenger.
Thomas Vale.
May you like
My mother's watcher.
The man she trusted to protect my sons was traveling with the men threatening them.
