Chapter 10 - THE ENVELOPE
The peace lasted exactly six months.
It was a crisp autumn morning. I was sitting at the breakfast table in the newly renovated kitchen, drinking tea and reading a book.
Luca walked in, carrying the morning mail. He tossed a few catalogs onto the island and handed me a thick, manila envelope.
"This came for you," Luca said, pouring a cup of coffee.
I frowned. The envelope had no return address. It was heavy.
"Did you order something?" he asked.
"No."
I picked up a butter knife and sliced the tape. I dumped the contents onto the table.
Several black-and-white photographs spilled out.
I picked up the first one.
My blood ran cold.
It was a picture of me. Walking out of Rachel's bakery yesterday.
I picked up the second one.
It was a picture of Leo, getting into his new Jeep.
I picked up the third.
It was a picture of Luca and me, kissing in the garden. Taken from a distance through the iron gates.
Luca saw my face drop. He walked over quickly.
He looked at the photos. His jaw clenched so tight a muscle popped in his cheek.
"Who sent these?" I whispered, my hands trembling.
Luca didn't answer. He reached into the pile of photos and pulled out a small, folded note that had been tucked at the bottom.
He opened it.
The handwriting was jagged and hurried.
“You burned my life down, Luca. Did you really think prison would hold me forever? See you soon.”
It was signed with a single initial.
A.
May you like
Anthony.
"He's supposed to be in federal lockup," Luca growled, pulling his phone out. "Marcus. Get over here. Now."
