Chapter 3 - THE BURNED TICKET
Luca caught Vanessa’s wrist in mid-air. He didn’t squeeze hard, but the warning in his grip made her freeze. “Let go of me,” Vanessa breathed, her eyes darting toward the security guards. “Not until you explain why my mother’s accident and my brother’s supposed death share the same date,” Luca said. Vanessa wrenched her arm away. “She’s crazy, Luca! She’s a sick, confused old woman!” But Eleanor wasn’t confused. Her hands moved with a sudden, fierce energy. The coat. I translated immediately. “The coat. She’s saying something about a coat.” Eleanor pointed toward the hallway closet. The red coat. Check the pocket. Luca nodded to his security chief, Marco. Marco walked to the closet, opened the heavy cedar door, and pulled out Vanessa’s expensive red cashmere winter coat. “Empty the pockets,” Luca ordered. Vanessa stepped backward, bumping into the dining chair. “You have no right—” Marco reached into the deep left pocket. He pulled out a crumpled, partially burned piece of paper. He walked over and handed it to Luca. It was a one-way train ticket to Montreal. Dated for tomorrow morning. The exact time Eleanor was supposed to be “transferred” to the facility in Wisconsin. But it wasn't just one ticket. There were two. “Who are you running with, Vanessa?” Luca asked, his voice dropping an octave. Vanessa covered her mouth, a sob finally breaking through her composed exterior. “If I don’t leave tomorrow, he’ll kill her,” she wept. Luca stepped closer. “Who will kill who?” Vanessa looked up, mascara running down her cheeks. “Anthony,” she whispered. “He’ll kill my daughter.” The room spun. Eleanor grabbed my arm, her nails digging into my skin. Her fingers flew furiously. Not Anthony. I looked at the old woman’s desperate eyes. It wasn't Anthony in the car.
