Chapter 3 - The Dead Man in the Garage
Children misunderstand things.
Adults depend on that.
“When did you see your father?” Ramirez asked.
Leo looked at me instead.
“After everybody cried.”
“How long after the funeral?”
“I don't know.”
“Where?”
“The garage.”
Rebecca's mansion had a detached four-car garage behind the pool.
“What was he doing?”
“Sleeping.”
My stomach tightened.
“Did he talk to you?”
Leo shook his head.
“Rebecca wouldn't let me touch him.”
Ramirez asked gently:
“Was your father moving?”
“No.”
Then perhaps Leo hadn't seen Ethan alive.
Perhaps he'd seen his body.
Except Ethan's body had supposedly been cremated two days after the funeral.
I had received the ashes myself.
I called the funeral director at one in the morning.
Money makes people answer.
Fear makes them answer faster.
The director remembered Ethan.
Private service.
Closed casket.
Cremation arranged through Rebecca.
“Did you personally confirm the body?”
Silence.
“Mr. Moretti…”
“Answer.”
“No.”
The body arrived sealed from St. Catherine Medical Center.
Rebecca provided authorization prohibiting reopening because an autopsy had already been completed.
My brother had died at home.
Why had his body gone through St. Catherine?
Ramirez was already making calls.
Twenty minutes later, her expression changed.
“There was no autopsy.”
I looked toward Leo.
He had fallen asleep again.
Maya curled beside him.
Someone had manufactured paperwork around Ethan's death.
Then my security chief, Dominic Russo, called.
“We found Rebecca's Mercedes.”
“Where?”
“Airport parking.”
“Flight?”
“None under her name.”
“Cameras?”
“Working on it.”
Then he added:
“There's something else.”
“What?”
“We searched Ethan's old office.”
Police had already cleared it.
Dominic found a hidden compartment beneath a desk drawer.
Inside was a flash drive.
Ramirez objected when I told her.
So I handed it to her unopened.
I wanted evidence that could survive court.
Two hours later, we watched the files together.
Ethan had been investigating his own foundation.
Photographs.
Invoices.
Names.
Missing children.
Mostly girls between four and nine.
Some had disappeared from unstable homes.
Some from shelters.
Others had officially been placed with temporary caregivers.
Rebecca's name appeared repeatedly.
Then we found a video.
Ethan sat in his office.
Alive.
Terrified.
“If Thomas sees this, I failed.”
My throat tightened.
“I thought Rebecca was stealing money. She's doing something worse.”
He looked behind him before continuing.
“I found Ava.”
Leo had told the truth.
“She was locked beneath my house.”
Ramirez stopped the video.
My hands were shaking.
She resumed it.
“I confronted Rebecca. She said if I called police, Leo and Maya would disappear too.”
Then Ethan held up a document.
A list of names.
At the bottom was a signature.
I leaned closer.
I recognized it.
May you like
Dominic Russo.
My own security chief.
