Chapter 4 - The Call From a Dead Man
Elena could not move.
The ringing continued.
Once.
Twice.
Three times.
Adrian found the phone beneath a pile of torn clothes.
Old.
Scratched.
Impossible.
Elena recognized it immediately.
“That was in his coffin.”
“I believe you.”
“I watched the funeral director place it beside him.”
The phone rang again.
Adrian answered.
He put it on speaker.
No one spoke.
Then came breathing.
Slow.
Controlled.
A distorted voice said, “Hello, Elena.”
Her face drained of color.
“Who is this?”
“You should have stayed invisible.”
Adrian’s eyes hardened.
“What do you want?”
The voice laughed.
“Adrian Moretti. Finally.”
“Luca?”
Silence.
Then, “You always were too confident.”
The call ended.
Elena looked at Adrian.
“Was it him?”
“I don’t know.”
“You said Luca.”
“I wanted to hear the reaction.”
“And?”
“No reaction.”
She stared at the phone.
“How did they get this?”
Adrian turned it over.
The device had been modified.
“This isn’t Marco’s original phone.”
“It looks exactly like it.”
“That was the point.”
“A message.”
“Yes.”
“To scare me?”
“To make us doubt what we know.”
Elena looked again at the photograph dated after Marco’s death.
“What if it’s real?”
Adrian examined it.
“Could be altered.”
“What if it isn’t?”
“Elena.”
“You don’t know.”
“No.”
The honesty hurt.
They returned to the estate before sunset.
Sofia ran toward Elena.
“You found Bunny!”
Elena hugged her tightly.
“Yes.”
Sofia kissed the stuffed rabbit’s ear.
Then she looked at Adrian.
“Did you help?”
He nodded solemnly.
“I supervised.”
Elena almost smiled.
Almost.
That night, Sofia slept in Elena’s room.
Adrian increased security.
Nobody entered or left without his approval.
Luca called twice.
Adrian did not answer.
At midnight Elena found Adrian alone in the kitchen.
Not the grand dining room.
Not the study.
The kitchen.
His jacket was gone.
His sleeves were rolled up.
He was making coffee.
“You have people for that,” Elena said.
“So I’ve been told.”
“You don’t sleep?”
“Sometimes.”
“Tonight?”
“No.”
“Me either.”
He poured a second cup.
She accepted it.
They sat opposite each other at the kitchen island.
For a while, they said nothing.
Finally Elena spoke.
“Tell me about Marco.”
Adrian looked at her.
“Which version?”
“The one I didn’t know.”
He considered.
“He was terrible at cards.”
Elena blinked.
“What?”
“Marco cheated constantly and still lost.”
A laugh escaped her.
Unexpected.
Painful.
Real.
Adrian continued.
“He hated opera.”
“He told me he loved opera.”
“He was lying.”
“I made him listen every Sunday.”
“I know.”
“You know?”
“He complained every Monday.”
Elena laughed again.
Then tears appeared.
Adrian’s expression softened.
“He loved those Sundays anyway.”
“How do you know?”
“Because he talked about them.”
She wiped her face.
“Did he talk about Sofia?”
“Constantly.”
“What did he say?”
“That she was smarter than both of us.”
“She is.”
“He said she once convinced you the dog had eaten a cake even though you didn’t own a dog.”
Elena covered her face.
“She was four.”
“I remember.”
“You remember?”
“He called me that night.”
The thought of Marco sharing family stories with this dangerous man felt strangely intimate.
“You loved him.”
Adrian looked into his coffee.
“He saved my life twice.”
“That isn’t what I asked.”
“No.”
She waited.
Finally he said, “Yes.”
The answer rearranged Adrian in her mind.
Not a mafia boss.
Not merely danger in an expensive suit.
A grieving man.
Perhaps grief recognized grief faster than anything else.
“What happened the night he died?” Elena asked.
Adrian’s jaw tightened.
“He was supposed to meet me.”
“Where?”
“Warehouse near the river.”
“He told me he was working overtime.”
“He called fifteen minutes before the meeting.”
“What did he say?”
“That something was wrong.”
“What?”
“He said, ‘If Luca arrives before me, don’t trust him.’”
Elena went still.
“And Luca?”
“Arrived before him.”
“What did you do?”
“I trusted him.”
The words were barely audible.
Elena understood then.
Adrian had lived two years believing his mistake may have contributed to Marco’s death.
“Did you send Marco somewhere?”
“Yes.”
“Where?”
“To verify information Luca gave us.”
“And that’s where he died?”
“Yes.”
“You think Luca sent him into an ambush.”
Adrian nodded.
Elena placed her coffee down.
“You didn’t kill Marco.”
“I helped put him where they could.”
“That isn’t the same.”
“It feels the same.”
“You don’t get to decide what Marco would forgive.”
Adrian looked at her.
“And you do?”
“No.”
Silence.
“Maybe that’s why he left the recording for both of us,” Elena said.
Adrian said nothing.
The next morning, they received news.
The man captured near the restaurant had spoken.
His name was Pavel.
He worked for Santoro.
He had been given Elena’s address by an intermediary.
“Who?” Adrian asked.
Pavel smiled through a split lip.
“A priest.”
Elena stiffened.
“What priest?”
“Father Gabriel.”
Her face changed.
Adrian noticed immediately.
“You know him.”
“He baptized Sofia.”
Adrian’s eyes narrowed.
“He knew Marco?”
“He knew us both.”
“Where is his church?”
“St. Catherine’s.”
Adrian stood.
Elena did too.
“No.”
“You’re not coming.”
“Yes, I am.”
“Absolutely not.”
“Father Gabriel may talk to me.”
“He may be part of this.”
“Then he definitely won’t talk to you.”
Adrian hated that she was right.
They went under heavy security.
St. Catherine’s was nearly empty.
Father Gabriel stood near the altar.
Older now.
Gray hair.
Gentle face.
When he saw Elena, tears filled his eyes.
“You came.”
Elena stopped.
“You expected me?”
“Yes.”
Adrian stepped beside her.
Father Gabriel looked at him.
“And you brought Adrian.”
“You know me?” Adrian asked.
“I know enough.”
“Did you give Santoro her address?”
Father Gabriel looked horrified.
“No.”
“A man says you did.”
“He was lying.”
“Why?”
“Because someone wanted Elena to come here.”
Elena’s heartbeat quickened.
“Who?”
Father Gabriel walked toward the sacristy.
“Marco.”
Elena stared.
“My husband is dead.”
Father Gabriel looked back.
“Yes.”
“Then what are you saying?”
“Before he died, Marco left something with me. He told me never to give it to anyone unless Elena came with the man whose initials were hidden inside her ring.”
Adrian and Elena exchanged a glance.
A.M.B.
Father Gabriel opened a locked cabinet.
Inside was a small wooden box.
He placed it on the table.
Elena reached for it.
Adrian caught her wrist.
“Wait.”
A faint red light blinked beneath the box.
Adrian’s expression changed.
“Don’t touch it.”
Father Gabriel whispered, “What is that?”
Adrian stepped back.
“Everyone out.”
May you like
Then the church doors slammed shut.
And somewhere above them, a timer began to beep.
