Chapter 3 - THE BLOODIED COAT
The name on the receipt felt like a physical blow to the room.
Marco was Gabriel’s underboss, his blood, the man who had stood beside him at Elena’s funeral and sworn to find the men responsible if the crash hadn't been an accident.
“Why would your brother’s dry-cleaning receipt be hidden inside your late wife’s watch?” I asked, the words feeling dangerous just to speak.
Gabriel stared at the slip of paper. “The date. Look at the date.”
I leaned closer. October 14th.
“That was the day after the crash,” Gabriel said, his voice entirely hollow. “The police told me Elena’s car went off the embankment at midnight. The car burned. Nothing was salvageable.”
He looked up at me, his eyes dark and wild. “Elise, Marco manages all the family’s properties. He owns the dry-cleaning front on 5th Avenue.”
“Mr. Romano, you shouldn't jump to conclusions. Maybe Marco found the watch at the crash site and Camille stole it from him?”
“There’s only one way to find out,” Gabriel said, grabbing his keys. “Stay here with Sophie. Lock the door. Do not let anyone in, especially not Marco.”
“I’m coming with you,” I said instantly.
He stopped, turning to look at me. “It’s too dangerous. This is family business now.”
“I took boiling water for your daughter,” I said, stepping into his space, pointing at the scar on my arm. “Camille was in this house for two years. If Marco is involved, you have no idea who else in your staff is compromised. You need someone watching your back who you know isn't loyal to the family payroll.”
Gabriel studied my face. For the first time, he didn't look at me like a maid. He looked at me like an equal.
“Go wake Sophie,” he said. “We’re taking her with us. I’m not leaving her in this house.”
Thirty minutes later, the three of us were in the back of Gabriel’s armored SUV, driving through the rain-slicked streets of the city. Sophie was asleep, her head resting on my lap.
We pulled into the alley behind Marco’s dry-cleaning business. The front was dark, closed for the night. Gabriel unlocked the back door with a master key he kept on his ring.
The air inside smelled of harsh chemicals and pressed linen. Racks of plastic-wrapped clothes hung like ghosts in the dim emergency lighting.
Gabriel walked straight to the manager’s office in the back. The door was locked, but Gabriel kicked it open with one brutal thrust of his boot.
He tore through Marco’s filing cabinets while I stood by the door, keeping an eye on the sleeping Sophie in the car outside.
“Nothing,” Gabriel hissed, throwing a stack of ledgers onto the desk. “Just legitimate business receipts.”
“Wait,” I said, stepping into the room.
I looked at the large, industrial safe in the corner. Then I looked at the dry-cleaning receipt from the watch.
“Mr. Romano, the receipt has a claim number on it.”
Gabriel pulled the paper from his pocket. “Claim 402.”
He walked to the automated conveyor rack in the center of the warehouse. He punched 402 into the keypad. The metal track hummed to life, rotating hundreds of garments until a single hanger stopped right in front of us.
It was covered in a thick, black garment bag.
Gabriel unzipped it slowly.
Inside hung a woman’s white cashmere winter coat. The bottom hem and the left sleeve were stained with deep, dark, rusted brown.
Blood.
Gabriel touched the fabric, his hand trembling. “This is the coat Elena wore the night she died.”
I noticed something catching the dim light near the collar. I reached out and gently pulled the lapel back.
Pinned to the inside lining was a delicate gold chain holding a small emerald pendant.
“Mr. Romano,” I whispered.
Gabriel saw it. He backed away, his chest rising and falling in rapid, shallow breaths.
“That’s not Elena’s necklace,” Gabriel said, staring at the emerald. “Elena never wore green.”
“Then whose is it?”
Gabriel turned to me, a terrifying realization dawning on his face.
“It’s Camille’s,” he said. “I bought it for her a year ago.”
Before I could process what that meant, the heavy steel door at the front of the warehouse rattled. Someone was trying to unlock it.
May you like
And then I heard Marco’s voice from the alley.
“Check the back. Camille said Gabriel took the watch.”
