Chapter 2 - What They Were Looking For

I did not remember getting into James Moretti’s car.

One moment I was standing outside the restaurant with Chloe asleep in my arms, and the next I was in the back seat of a black SUV while Boston slid past in streaks of red and white light.

James sat beside me.

One of his men drove.

No one spoke for almost a minute.

Then I said, “Take me home.”

“No.”

I turned toward him.

“That wasn’t a suggestion.”

“Neither was my answer.”

“My daughter’s clothes are there.”

“So is whoever broke in, possibly.”

“Luca said they were gone.”

“He said he didn’t see anyone. That is not the same thing.”

I looked down at Chloe.

Her cheek rested against my shoulder.

“She needs her medicine.”

James's expression changed.

“What medicine?”

“Nothing serious. She has asthma. There’s an inhaler in my nightstand and one in her backpack.”

“Where is the backpack?”

“At the apartment.”

He picked up his phone.

“Luca.”

A pause.

“Find a child’s blue backpack. Don’t touch anything else until you photograph it.”

I grabbed his wrist.

“Don’t go through our things.”

He looked at my hand, then at me.

“I’m trying to help.”

“I’ve had enough men deciding what is best for me.”

Something in my voice made him put the phone down.

“Then tell me what you need.”

“I need to see my apartment.”

“That is dangerous.”

“So was letting me live there while you kept secrets.”

His jaw tightened.

“That’s fair.”

“Take me there.”

“No.”

I laughed bitterly.

“You’re unbelievable.”

“And you’re angry.”

“I’m terrified.”

That stopped him.

I had not meant to say it.

The word hung between us.

James looked out the window.

“So am I.”

I almost laughed again.

“You?”

“Yes.”

“Of what?”

“That Daniel’s killers have found you before I found them.”

He said it without drama.

That made it worse.

I looked away.

“Take me to the apartment.”

He nodded once.

The driver changed direction.

We arrived ten minutes later.

Two dark cars were already parked near my building, but none had lights on. Luca met us at the curb.

“Police?” I asked.

“Not yet.”

“Why not?”

“Because we don’t know what was taken.”

“That’s not your choice.”

Luca glanced at James.

James said, “Call them.”

Luca immediately took out his phone.

I had expected resistance.

The lack of it unsettled me more.

James walked beside me into the building.

The front hall smelled like old radiator heat and somebody’s burned dinner. Mrs. Alvarez from downstairs had hung a paper wreath on her door. The sight of it almost made me cry.

Everything normal was suddenly unbearable.

My apartment door was splintered near the lock.

I stopped.

“Grace,” James said quietly.

“I’m fine.”

“You don’t have to be.”

“I said I’m fine.”

The living room looked as if a storm had passed through it.

Cushions ripped open.

Books dumped from shelves.

Kitchen drawers pulled out.

A cereal box crushed on the floor.

My Christmas tree lay on its side, cheap plastic ornaments scattered across the rug.

I made a sound I did not recognize.

Chloe stirred.

I turned away so she would not see.

James held out his arms.

“Give her to me.”

“No.”

“You need both hands.”

“I can carry my daughter.”

“I know.”

His voice softened.

“You shouldn’t have to carry everything.”

For reasons I still do not understand, I let him take her.

Chloe shifted against his chest but did not wake.

He held her awkwardly at first, then adjusted one arm beneath her knees and the other around her back.

The sight nearly undid me.

I walked into the bedroom.

My dresser drawers had been emptied.

Daniel’s old metal lockbox was on the bed.

Open.

My breath stopped.

I crossed the room.

Inside should have been his watch, our marriage certificate, Chloe’s birth certificate, a stack of old photographs, and the small velvet bag that held his wedding ring.

The papers were there.

The photographs were there.

His watch was there.

The ring was gone.

“No.”

James appeared in the doorway carrying Chloe.

“What?”

“His ring.”

“What about it?”

“It’s gone.”

He looked at the box.

“Anything else?”

“I don’t know.”

“Think.”

“Don’t tell me to think.”

“I’m not criticizing you.”

I pressed my fingers to my forehead.

“His ring was in a blue velvet bag. It was here last week.”

“Why would someone take a wedding ring and leave a watch?”

“I don’t know.”

“Was there anything unusual about it?”

“No. It was plain gold.”

“Engraving?”

“Our initials. G.B. and D.B. The date.”

“Anything hidden in the bag?”

“No.”

I stared at him.

“Unless Daniel hid something without telling me. Apparently that was one of his hobbies.”

James did not defend him.

I opened the closet.

Boxes had been pulled down and ripped apart.

Baby clothes.

Tax records.

Christmas decorations.

My chest tightened.

“The ornaments.”

James followed my stare.

A cardboard box labeled XMAS was upside down.

Glass glittered across the floor.

I knelt.

“Careful,” he said.

I ignored him.

Most of the ornaments were cheap plastic.

A few were homemade things Chloe had brought back from preschool.

One was missing.

I knew before I even searched twice.

“The star.”

“What star?”

“Daniel bought Chloe a little silver star the Christmas before he died.”

James became very still.

“What did it look like?”

“About this big.”

I held my fingers apart.

“Silver metal. Heavy. It opened.”

His expression sharpened.

“Opened how?”

“Like a locket. It had a picture inside.”

“Of what?”

“Us.”

“Was there space behind the picture?”

“I don’t know.”

“Grace.”

“I don’t know. I never took it apart.”

He set Chloe gently on my bed.

“Luca.”

Luca appeared.

“Find every ornament in the apartment. Photograph the box before moving anything.”

Luca looked at the scattered decorations.

“What are we looking for?”

“A silver star.”

My blood ran cold.

“Why does that matter?”

James looked at me.

“Daniel’s last call.”

“What about it?”

Luca answered.

“He said, ‘Christmas star. She knows where home is.’”

I stared at him.

“You said he only told you I had the evidence.”

“I told you the part that mattered at the restaurant.”

“That mattered.”

“Yes.”

“You lied by omission.”

“Yes.”

I stood.

“Get out.”

“Grace.”

“Both of you.”

James did not move.

“I’m not leaving you here.”

“You came into my life less than two hours ago and every sentence you say makes Daniel’s death worse.”

“I know.”

“Stop saying you know.”

My voice rose.

Chloe stirred on the bed.

I closed my eyes.

When I opened them, James had stepped back.

“I’ll wait in the hall.”

“Take your men.”

“I’ll move them out of sight.”

“Not good enough.”

He looked at me for a long moment.

Then he said to Luca, “Do it.”

Luca nodded.

Within a minute, the room was empty except for me and Chloe.

I sat beside her.

My hands shook so hard I had to tuck them under my legs.

Daniel had hidden something in our Christmas decorations.

Someone had just come into our home looking for it.

And they had taken his ring.

I looked at Chloe.

Her eyes opened.

“Mommy?”

“I’m here.”

“Why are we home?”

I swallowed.

“We needed to get some things.”

She sat up and looked around.

Her face changed.

“Who did this?”

“I don’t know.”

She looked at the fallen tree.

Then she scrambled off the bed.

“Chloe, wait.”

She ran into the living room.

I followed.

“My star!”

I froze.

She dropped to her knees beside the tree.

“Daddy’s star is gone.”

“I know, baby.”

She began to cry.

Not loud.

That was worse.

Daniel had given it to her when she was four.

He had knelt beside the tree and told her it was a traveler’s star, the kind that always knew how to find home.

I had forgotten the exact words.

Chloe had not.

She looked up at me.

“Why would somebody take Daddy’s star?”

“I don’t know.”

She wiped her face.

“Maybe because of the secret.”

Every hair on my arms lifted.

“What secret?”

She looked confused.

“The star secret.”

I knelt in front of her.

“What star secret?”

“Daddy told me.”

“When?”

“Before he went away.”

My heart began pounding.

“What did he tell you?”

She glanced toward the hallway.

“Can Mr. James come back?”

I hesitated.

“Why?”

“Because Daddy said if the bad man ever found the star, I had to tell the man with the lion ring.”

The room tilted.

“What?”

Chloe held up her little hand and pointed to her finger.

“A lion. Like this.”

I walked to the door and pulled it open.

James was standing at the far end of the hallway with his men.

He turned immediately.

“Grace?”

“Come here.”

He approached.

Chloe looked at his right hand.

There was a heavy silver ring on his smallest finger.

A lion’s head.

She pointed.

“That one.”

James stopped.

“What?”

“My daddy said I could trust the man with that ring if the star disappeared.”

No one moved.

James slowly knelt.

“Chloe, did your father say my name?”

She shook her head.

“He said names can be stolen.”

Luca whispered something under his breath.

James ignored him.

“What else did he tell you?”

Chloe frowned in concentration.

“He said the star was only a door.”

My mouth went dry.

“A door to what?”

She looked at me.

“The place where Mommy keeps winter.”

I stared at her.

“Where I keep winter?”

She nodded.

James looked at me.

“Does that mean anything?”

“No.”

Chloe tugged my sleeve.

“Yes, it does.”

“What?”

“The coat.”

“What coat?”

“The winter coat Daddy said you never throw away.”

I stopped breathing.

There was one.

An ugly red wool coat my mother had given me when I was seventeen.

I had kept it through college, marriage, pregnancy, and every move because Daniel teased me about it so often that getting rid of it would have felt like admitting he had been right.

I turned toward the hall closet.

The door hung open.

Coats were on the floor.

The red one was gone.

James stood.

“Who knew about it?”

“Daniel. Chloe. Maybe my mother.”

“Anyone else?”

“No.”

I ran to the closet.

Beneath the fallen coats was a small tear in the carpet.

I remembered something.

“The lining.”

James came closer.

“What?”

“Daniel repaired the lining after I caught it on a nail. He insisted on doing it himself.”

“When?”

“A few weeks before he died.”

Luca’s eyes met James's.

James swore quietly.

The front door opened downstairs.

Police voices echoed through the building.

James said, “We need to decide what you tell them.”

“The truth.”

“All of it?”

I looked at Chloe.

“Not in front of her.”

He nodded.

For the first time, we agreed without fighting.

Two officers entered minutes later.

I reported the break-in.

I told them someone had taken my late husband’s ring, a Christmas ornament, and an old red coat.

One officer raised an eyebrow.

“Anything valuable?”

“The ring.”

“Cash?”

“No.”

“Electronics?”

“Still here.”

He looked at the destruction.

“Strange burglary.”

“Yes.”

James stood near the window in silence.

The officer recognized him.

I saw it happen.

His posture changed.

“Mr. Moretti.”

James inclined his head.

“Officer.”

“What are you doing here?”

“I own the restaurant where Ms. Bennett works.”

The officer looked at me.

“On Christmas Eve?”

“My daughter was with me.”

The officer did not say anything, but his suspicion was obvious.

I hated that the story sounded impossible.

After they left, I packed a bag for Chloe.

James insisted we stay somewhere secure.

I refused his house.

We compromised on a hotel he owned under another company.

By the time we arrived, it was after midnight.

Christmas.

Chloe fell asleep almost instantly in a suite larger than our apartment.

I stood at the window looking down at the city.

James remained near the door.

“You can go,” I said.

“I will.”

I turned.

“But?”

“Daniel’s ring and the star were taken. The coat was taken. Whoever did this knew exactly what mattered.”

“Then the evidence is gone.”

“Maybe.”

“What do you mean?”

He removed his lion ring.

For the first time, I noticed a line of tiny letters engraved inside.

He held it out.

“Daniel knew this ring.”

“How?”

“I wore it when we met.”

“Why would he build a message around it?”

“Because he didn’t trust phones. Or names.”

I looked at the engraving.

M.M.

“Michael Moretti?”

James's face changed.

“My brother.”

I handed the ring back.

“What happened to him?”

“He died eight years ago.”

“How?”

James looked toward the dark window.

“Officially, a warehouse fire.”

I heard the unspoken part.

“And unofficially?”

“I think the same people who killed Daniel may have killed him too.”

A chill went through me.

“Why?”

“Michael had started asking questions about money moving through the harbor.”

I stared at him.

“So this is older than Daniel.”

“Much older.”

“Then you know who is behind it.”

“I know who benefited.”

“Who?”

James did not answer right away.

Then he said a name.

“Dominic Rinaldi.”

I had heard it before.

Everyone in Boston had.

Dominic Rinaldi was James Moretti’s closest adviser.

The man newspapers called his second-in-command.

The man standing beside him in half the photographs ever printed.

I stared at James.

“You think your own partner killed your brother and my husband?”

“I think Daniel believed someone inside my organization was protecting the theft.”

“And you kept Rinaldi beside you?”

“I needed proof.”

“Two dead men weren’t enough?”

His face hardened.

“Not if accusing him started a war I couldn’t finish.”

I turned back to the window.

“You really do talk like a mobster.”

“I am not pretending to be something else.”

“That’s supposed to make me trust you?”

“No.”

“Then what is?”

He looked toward the bedroom where Chloe slept.

“Nothing yet.”

He placed his card on the table.

“Try to sleep.”

I laughed softly.

“That’s not happening.”

He walked to the door.

“Grace.”

“What?”

“If Chloe remembers anything else Daniel told her, call me before you tell anyone.”

“Why?”

“Because someone knew enough to take the star before you even knew it mattered.”

He opened the door.

Then he stopped.

“There is one more thing.”

I waited.

“Your husband’s wedding ring was not valuable enough to explain taking it.”

“I know.”

“But Daniel wore it the night he died.”

My stomach tightened.

“So?”

“So the police inventory from the hospital said he wasn’t wearing one.”

I stared at him.

“What are you saying?”

James looked back at me.

“Whoever broke into your apartment tonight didn’t steal Daniel’s ring.”

The room went silent.

“They returned it to where it had been hidden.”

I could barely speak.

“You think the ring in my lockbox wasn’t his?”

“I think someone wanted you to believe it was.”

I remembered the blue velvet bag.

The way I had avoided touching it for months after the funeral.

The way grief had made every object sacred enough not to inspect.

James's phone vibrated.

He looked at the screen.

His expression changed.

“What?”

He answered.

“Luca?”

He listened.

Then his eyes found mine.

“Say that again.”

A pause.

“Where?”

He ended the call.

“What happened?” I asked.

“Luca found the red coat.”

My heart leaped.

“Where?”

“In the alley behind your building.”

“Then maybe they didn’t find anything.”

James's expression told me not to hope.

“The lining was cut open.”

I closed my eyes.

“And?”

“There was nothing inside.”

I exhaled.

Then James added, “But there was a message sewn into the hem.”

I looked at him.

“What message?”

May you like

[COMPLETED] I Found the Mafia Boss Breathing in His Casket—Then He Refus...

[COMPLETED] My Mafia Boss Husband Spent the Night with His “Little Siste...

[COMPLETED] My Husband Slapped Me at the Country Club While I Was Pregna...

He answered quietly.

“Not the star. Follow the table.”