Chapter 2 - THE LITTLE GIRL WHO SAW EVERYTHING
Adrian Morelli did not ask Rosie the same question twice.
Adults did that when they wanted a different answer.
Children noticed.
Instead, he placed the black recording device on the desk, far enough from Rosie that she could not touch it, and lowered himself back to her height.
“When did you see someone put that there?”
Rosie’s eyebrows pulled together.
“Yesterday.”
“What time?”
She shrugged.
Of course she did.
She was three.
Adrian changed the question.
“Was Mommy with you?”
“No. Mommy had towels.”
Clara Bennett worked mornings in the bedrooms and afternoons in the west wing. She had been employed at the Morelli estate for eleven months.
Rosie came with her only when childcare failed.
Yesterday had been one of those days.
“Where were you?”
Rosie pointed toward the leather sofa.
“Coloring.”
“What did you see?”
“A lady.”
Adrian’s heartbeat slowed.
Not from relief.
From focus.
“What lady?”
Rosie looked surprised that he needed clarification.
“The pretty lady.”
There were thirty women employed on the estate.
“Can you tell me what she looked like?”
Rosie considered.
“She had click shoes.”
“High heels?”
“Click shoes.”
“All right.”
“What color?”
“Red.”
Adrian’s eyes hardened.
Bianca DeLuca owned a pair of red patent heels she wore constantly.
She had worn them yesterday.
He remembered because she complained one heel had caught between the stones on the terrace.
Adrian kept his voice gentle.
“What did the lady do?”
Rosie crouched.
She placed the pink crayon beneath the edge of the desk.
“Like this.”
Then she stood.
“She said a bad word.”
Despite himself, Adrian almost smiled.
“What word?”
Rosie leaned closer.
Apparently profanity required privacy.
“Damn.”
Adrian nodded gravely.
“Very bad.”
Rosie nodded.
Then she added:
“She dropped the button first.”
His smile disappeared.
“The black button?”
“Yes.”
“She dropped it?”
Rosie pointed toward the rug.
“Then she picked it up and put it under.”
Adrian looked at the recorder again.
“Did she see you?”
“No.”
“Why?”
Rosie pointed toward the long curtains beside the window.
“I was hiding.”
“Why were you hiding?”
“Mommy said five minutes quiet.”
He could imagine Clara saying exactly that after eight hours of work.
Rosie suddenly reached for the crayon.
“Can I finish my house?”
Adrian stared at her.
A device capable of destroying men had been discovered because a toddler needed somewhere quiet to draw.
“Yes.”
Rosie walked back toward the sofa without another thought.
Children had that gift.
They could drop a grenade into an adult’s life and immediately return to coloring.
The office door opened.
Clara entered carrying folded linens.
She stopped when she saw Adrian crouching beside her daughter.
“Mr. Morelli?”
Her eyes moved to the recorder.
Every bit of color left her face.
“What is that?”
Adrian watched carefully.
Fear.
But not guilt.
“Close the door.”
Clara did.
“Rosie,” she said quickly, “come here.”
Rosie looked up.
“I’m making his house.”
“Now, please.”
Adrian stood.
“She’s fine.”
Clara looked at him.
“What happened?”
“Your daughter found something.”
Her gaze returned to the desk.
Rosie volunteered:
“Bad button.”
Clara crossed the room.
“Rosie, did you touch that?”
“No.”
Adrian said:
“She saw someone place it.”
Clara froze.
“Who?”
He did not answer immediately.
Instead:
“Did you know it was there?”
Her face changed from fear to insult.
“No.”
“Clara.”
“I said no.”
He studied her.
Most people became smaller when Adrian Morelli questioned them.
Clara didn’t.
She became angry.
“If you think I brought my daughter into your office so she could discover a listening device I planted, then you think I’m much stupider than I apparently thought you were.”
Matteo Ricci would have fired an employee for half that sentence.
Adrian almost respected the whole thing.
“I don’t think you planted it.”
Clara’s anger disappeared.
“What did Rosie see?”
“Red shoes.”
Clara stopped breathing.
She knew.
Adrian saw it.
“You’re thinking of someone.”
“No.”
“Clara.”
Her eyes moved toward Rosie.
Then back.
“Miss DeLuca wore red heels yesterday.”
Adrian said nothing.
Clara immediately added:
“That doesn’t prove anything.”
“No.”
“Rosie is three.”
“Yes.”
“She thinks the moon follows our car.”
“She also described exactly how the device was attached.”
Clara swallowed.
Adrian picked up his phone.
“Matteo.”
His lieutenant answered.
“Yes?”
“Come to my study alone.”
“Problem?”
“Alone.”
Matteo arrived three minutes later.
Broad shoulders.
Dark suit.
A scar running from his left ear toward his jaw.
He saw Clara.
Rosie.
Then the device.
His entire expression changed.
“Where?”
“Under my desk.”
Matteo swore.
Rosie looked up from her picture.
“Mommy, he said a bad word.”
Clara covered her face briefly.
Adrian almost smiled again.
Matteo did not.
“Who found it?”
Adrian nodded toward Rosie.
Matteo stared at the tiny child.
Rosie waved.
Matteo, a man rumored to have once made a loan shark leave New Jersey permanently, awkwardly waved back.
“Hello.”
Rosie returned to coloring.
Matteo lowered his voice.
“We sweep the entire estate.”
“No.”
“What?”
“Nothing changes.”
Matteo stared.
“If there’s one, there could be twelve.”
“Probably.”
“And you want to leave them?”
“I want whoever planted them to believe they still work.”
Understanding appeared in Matteo’s eyes.
“A trap.”
Adrian nodded.
Clara stiffened.
“No.”
Both men looked at her.
“You don’t use my daughter in a trap.”
Adrian’s expression changed.
“I wasn’t planning to.”
“She saw the person.”
“And no one outside this room will know that.”
Clara studied him.
“Including Miss DeLuca?”
“Especially Bianca.”
Clara glanced toward Rosie.
Adrian continued:
“From now on, your daughter does not enter this wing.”
“She won’t enter this house.”
Adrian frowned.
“I’m leaving.”
“Clara.”
“I have a three-year-old child.”
Her voice shook now.
“I clean rooms. I wash sheets. Whatever men discuss in this office is not my business.”
Matteo looked away.
Clara continued:
“But somebody has been listening to you. Rosie saw them. That makes her part of something she doesn’t understand.”
Adrian knew she was right.
That did not make the next decision easier.
“You can leave for the day.”
“For the day?”
“Stay at the guest cottage outside the north gate tonight.”
Clara stared.
“That belongs to you.”
“Yes.”
“So whoever is watching this house knows where it is.”
Adrian paused.
Again, she was right.
Matteo spoke.
“We can put security there.”
Clara laughed once.
“No offense, but I’d rather not have armed strangers standing outside my daughter’s window.”
Rosie called from the sofa:
“Mommy, I need green.”
Clara closed her eyes.
For one second, she was simply a tired mother.
Adrian walked to a drawer and removed a box of colored pencils.
He carried them to Rosie.
She examined them.
“No green crayon?”
“Apparently I’m poorly prepared.”
Rosie chose a green pencil.
“You need kid stuff.”
Adrian looked at her.
Maybe he did.
He stood.
“Clara, take Rosie home.”
She nodded.
“Matteo will have someone watch your building from a distance.”
“No one comes inside.”
“No one comes inside.”
“And I want to know if something changes.”
“You will.”
She hesitated.
“What are you going to do?”
Adrian looked at the recorder.
“Give them something worth hearing.”
That evening, Bianca DeLuca arrived for dinner at seven.
Black dress.
Diamond earrings.
Perfect smile.
No red shoes tonight.
Adrian kissed her cheek exactly as he always did.
“You look tired,” she said.
“Long day.”
“Business?”
“Always.”
She poured wine.
He watched her hands.
Steady.
Beautiful.
The same hands that had touched his face that morning.
The same hands Rosie claimed had reached beneath his desk.
At eight fifteen, Adrian excused himself.
He entered the study with Matteo.
They sat near the desk.
The recorder had been returned to its exact position.
Adrian spoke clearly.
“The federal ledger is still in the chapel safe.”
Matteo understood the game.
“You’re sure?”
“No one knows the combination except me.”
“What about Bianca?”
Adrian gave a deliberate laugh.
“I trust Bianca more than anyone alive.”
The words tasted foul.
They discussed a fictional ledger for eleven minutes.
Then left.
At 2:13 in the morning, a silent alert appeared on Adrian’s phone.
Motion.
Private chapel.
He opened the security feed.
Someone entered.
Not Bianca.
A man.
Adrian leaned closer.
The figure crossed beneath the stone arch.
Turned toward the hidden safe.
And looked directly into the camera.
Adrian recognized him immediately.
Lorenzo Morelli.
His own cousin.
The man who was supposed to stand beside him at his wedding.
But Lorenzo wasn’t alone.
Seconds later, Bianca stepped into view.
She kissed him.
Not on the cheek.
On the mouth.
And suddenly Adrian understood that the device beneath his desk had never been the deepest betrayal inside his house.
May you like
It had only been the first one Rosie happened to find.
---
