Chapter 3 - The Graveyard Shift
The kitchen went dead silent. The only sound was the hum of the industrial refrigerators.
"How do you have my father’s watch?" Luca demanded, his voice entirely devoid of its earlier warmth.
Emma shrank back. "I don't know! It was in the pocket of my dad's coat. I thought it was his."
Vanessa seized the moment, stepping forward with a triumphant smirk. "There you have it, Luca. Daniel Bishop was a thief. He robbed your father’s grave, and his daughter came here to blackmail you."
"My son was no grave robber!" Walter shouted, leaning heavily on his cane, his trembling hands gripping the wood.
Luca took the heavy silver watch from Emma’s hands. He turned it over, tracing the familiar engraving on the back. It was undeniable.
"My father died two months before Daniel," Luca said, his eyes darkening with suspicion. "I placed this in his casket myself. The only way Daniel could have this is if he dug it up."
"No," Emma sobbed. "My father was a good man!"
I looked at the watch in Luca's hand. The silver was tarnished, but there was a distinct, deep scratch across the glass face.
"Mr. Moretti," I said quietly.
"Not now, Emily," Luca snapped.
"But sir," I persisted, stepping closer. "Look at the clasp. There's dried mud inside the hinges. It’s red clay."
Luca frowned, looking at the clasp. I was right.
"The Moretti family crypt is made of marble," I pointed out, my heart pounding. "There's no red clay in that cemetery. But there is red clay at the old shipping docks on the river."
Luca’s head snapped up.
Seventeen years ago, Daniel Bishop had died at the shipping docks. He had supposedly taken a bullet meant for Luca during a shootout with a rival family.
"Daniel didn't dig this up," Luca realized aloud. "Someone else took it from the casket. Someone who was at the docks that night. Someone who dropped it in the mud before Daniel died."
Vanessa’s triumphant smile vanished. "Luca, this is ridiculous. You’re listening to a maid over your own fiancée?"
"Where is Marco?" Luca demanded, ignoring her.
"He left," Vanessa said quickly. "I sent him to pick up my mother from the airport."
Luca pulled out his phone, dialing his head of security. "Lock down the perimeter. Nobody leaves the estate. Find Marco."
He hung up and turned to Vanessa. "Empty your purse."
"Excuse me?" Vanessa gasped, clutching her designer bag. "You’re treating me like a criminal!"
"If you have nothing to hide, empty it," Luca said coldly.
Vanessa glared at him, then aggressively unclasped her bag, dumping the contents onto a stainless steel prep table. Lipstick, a compact, keys, and a thick leather wallet spilled out.
No yellowed letter.
But my eyes caught something else. Mixed among the loose items was a heavy, ornate brass key.
Emma gasped, pointing at the table. "That's the key to our apartment! The landlord changed the locks yesterday because we were behind on rent, but he gave us that specific vintage key. How do you have it?"
Vanessa backed away from the table.
"I've never seen that before," Vanessa stammered.
May you like
Luca picked up the brass key. He looked at Vanessa, his eyes completely dead.
"You didn't just steal the letter tonight, Vanessa," Luca whispered. "You've already been inside their home."
