Chapter 8 - The Woman Behind the Vermont Door

Vermont was three hours away.

Marco did not wait.

Neither did Vanessa.

Robert came.

Grant stayed with Daniel.

I came too.

No one objected anymore.

The bank was small.

Private.

Safe-deposit box 219.

The key opened it.

Inside:

Documents.

Photographs.

A flash drive.

And an address.

No name.

Just a farmhouse.

Forty minutes north.

Marco stared.

“That’s where she is.”

Robert nodded.

“Probably.”

Vanessa looked at the documents.

One name appeared repeatedly.

VANESSA MARIE BELL.

Shell companies.

Transfers.

Fraud.

Marco’s uncle.

All of it.

Then another name.

LUCIA RINALDI.

Marco’s mother.

Marco froze.

“She signed some of these.”

Robert frowned.

“No.”

Vanessa looked closer.

“The signatures are different.”

Marco stared.

“Forgeries.”

“Yes.”

Someone had used his mother’s name too.

Two missing women.

Two convenient identities.

The farmhouse was white.

Quiet.

One light on.

Marco stood at the door.

He knocked.

Nothing.

Again.

“Mom?”

Silence.

Then footsteps.

The door opened.

A woman stood there.

Early sixties.

Dark hair with gray.

Marco’s eyes.

Lucia Rinaldi.

Marco stopped.

She covered her mouth.

“My baby.”

Marco closed his eyes.

Not because he wanted to cry.

Because he already was.

He stepped inside.

Then stopped again.

Another woman stood behind Lucia.

Same age as Robert.

Vanessa stared.

“Aunt Marie?”

The woman looked at her.

“Vanessa.”

Robert collapsed into a chair.

His sister.

Alive.

Eleven years gone.

For a minute, no one asked anything.

Then Marco did.

“Why?”

Lucia looked at him.

“I thought staying away kept you alive.”

Marco laughed through tears.

“That answer should be illegal.”

She cried.

“I know.”

Vanessa Marie stepped forward.

“Your uncle found us twice.”

“When?”

“Eleven years ago.”

“And?”

“We moved.”

“Again six months ago.”

Marco’s face changed.

“The same time Vanessa found out about Dad.”

Marie nodded.

“Your uncle knew Daniel was seeking surgery.”

“So everyone started moving.”

“Yes.”

Robert looked at his sister.

“Why didn’t you call me?”

Marie’s face hardened.

“Because you helped him.”

Robert cried.

“I know.”

“You left me carrying evidence while you protected yourself.”

“I know.”

Vanessa looked between them.

Another family.

Same wound.

Marco asked Lucia:

“Did you see Dad two weeks ago?”

“Yes.”

“Why didn’t you stay?”

“Because his clinic was being watched.”

“By who?”

Marie answered:

“Peter Rinaldi.”

Marco’s cousin.

The doctor.

The one who had altered Elena Bell’s medication.

Marco’s face hardened.

“Where is Peter now?”

Lucia looked toward the window.

“We don’t know.”

Then a car engine sounded.

Everyone froze.

Headlights.

Driveway.

Robert whispered:

“No.”

A black SUV stopped outside.

Peter Rinaldi stepped out.

Fifty-two.

Gray suit.

Medical bag.

He looked at the farmhouse.

Then at the cars.

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He smiled.

“Too many reunions.”