Chapter 3 – What They Left in the Garage

“Brought him back from where?”

Luca didn’t move.

Vanessa stared at Samuel’s address book as though it had become something dangerous.

“I meant his car.”

“That’s not what you said.”

She swallowed.

“Michael came to the garage. Later his car came back. I don’t remember the exact order.”

“Were you there?”

“No.”

“Then how do you know what he was wearing?”

Vanessa looked directly at him.

“Because I saw him earlier that evening.”

Luca waited.

She rubbed the silver leaf on her bracelet.

“He wore his blue work coat at the diner. I remember because he’d spilled coffee on one sleeve.”

The detail was almost unbearably ordinary.

For nine years, Luca had wondered where his brother had gone.

Vanessa remembered the coffee stain on his coat.

“You should have told me,” he said.

“I know.”

“When we first met.”

“Yes.”

“When you moved into my house.”

She didn’t answer.

“When my mother asked you.”

Vanessa’s composure finally cracked.

“Your mother already hated me.”

Luca looked stunned.

“She didn’t hate you.”

“She thought I was trying to take her place.”

“No. She thought you were lying.”

Vanessa’s eyes filled.

“Sometimes those things felt the same.”

I might have felt sympathy for her if I hadn’t been sitting there with a cold compress against my mouth.

Luca seemed to remember that too.

He looked at Vanessa’s hands.

“Did you push the chapel door into Emily?”

She glanced at me.

“It wasn’t deliberate.”

“You grabbed Mr. Bennett’s case.”

“He had something that belonged to my family.”

Samuel raised his head.

“No, Vanessa. It belonged to Isabella.”

She looked away.

Luca reached for his phone.

“I want you to stay in the guest suite tonight. Tomorrow we’ll discuss where you go from here.”

Vanessa stared.

“Are you asking me to leave?”

“I’m telling you I can’t continue this engagement as though nothing happened.”

“You’re going to throw away our future over a photograph and a receipt?”

“No,” Luca said. “I’m questioning our future because you hurt an employee, threatened an old man, and lied about knowing my missing brother.”

She went quiet.

Then she asked, “What are you going to do about Thomas Calder?”

“Speak to him.”

Her expression changed again.

“Luca, please don’t frighten him.”

“Why would I?”

“Because he worked for my father, and you know what people think when someone named Moretti starts asking questions.”

Luca held her gaze.

“Then I’ll make sure he has no reason to be afraid.”

The next morning, Dr. Harris examined me again.

My lip needed two stitches. The swelling around my jaw was painful but there was no fracture, which was a relief.

I was supposed to spend the rest of the day resting.

Instead, I found Luca waiting in the kitchen with a paper bag from the bakery.

“Soft breakfast,” he said. “Mrs. Carter told me you hadn’t eaten.”

Inside were scrambled eggs and a little container of yogurt.

I almost smiled.

“Thank you, sir.”

He looked uncomfortable.

“Emily, did Vanessa threaten to have you blacklisted?”

I nodded.

“Those were her words.”

He pulled out a chair.

“Sit.”

I did.

“You’ll be paid for your recovery time. And if you want to report what happened at the chapel, I’ll make sure you’re not pressured by anyone in this house.”

I looked at him.

“Even Vanessa?”

“Especially Vanessa.”

It was the first time I believed my job might not disappear because I’d told the truth.

An hour later, Luca and I drove to a modest brick bungalow on the southwest side.

Thomas Calder lived there with his wife, who was visiting her sister that morning.

He was sixty-eight, with grease permanently worked into the creases of his hands.

When Luca introduced himself, Thomas looked as though he’d been expecting trouble for years.

“You’ve come about Michael.”

Luca nodded.

Thomas stepped aside.

Inside, the living room smelled of furniture polish and strong coffee.

There were model cars arranged along one shelf.

A faded blue work coat hung from a hook near the back door.

I noticed Luca looking at it.

Thomas followed his gaze.

“Not his,” he said. “Mine.”

Luca sat down.

“Mr. Calder, I’m not here to threaten you.”

Thomas gave a tired smile.

“That’s what your brother said.”

Luca stiffened.

“When?”

“The last time I saw him.”

Thomas lowered himself into an armchair.

“Michael came to the garage asking questions about some damaged vehicles. Your family used Bellini Recovery for years.”

“I know.”

“He’d found discrepancies in the maintenance records.”

“What kind?”

“Trucks marked safe when they weren’t. Repairs billed but never performed.”

Luca frowned.

“Why didn’t he come to me?”

“He said he’d tried.”

The words struck hard.

Thomas continued.

“Your brother wasn’t looking to embarrass anybody. He was worried someone was going to get killed.”

I noticed Luca’s hands tightening.

“Did he find proof?”

“Yes.”

“Where is it?”

Thomas looked toward the kitchen.

“That’s what Frank Bellini wanted to know.”

Vanessa’s father.

Thomas leaned forward.

“Frank came back to the garage that night carrying Michael’s keys.”

Luca stopped breathing for a moment.

“Where was Michael?”

“I asked him.”

“And?”

“He said Michael had gone away to cool off.”

Thomas rubbed his forehead.

“But there was something wrong. Frank was soaked to the knees, and he kept telling me not to ask questions.”

“Was the Mercedes there?”

“It arrived shortly after.”

“Who drove it?”

Thomas hesitated.

“A recovery driver brought it in on a flatbed.”

“Was Vanessa there?”

“Yes.”

He looked down.

“She was crying. Frank told her to go upstairs and stay there.”

Luca leaned forward.

“Did you see Michael?”

Thomas shook his head.

“No.”

“Not at all?”

“No. But I saw his coat.”

He pointed toward the back of the house.

“Frank had thrown it beside the old wash sink.”

Luca’s voice became rough.

“What was wrong with it?”

Thomas looked at him for a long moment.

Then he answered.

“It was torn across the shoulder, Luca. And somebody had tried to wash the blood out.”

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