Chapter 3 - A BROKEN CHAIN AND A ONE-WAY TICKET
Luca stood in the ruined doorway of the pantry.
His breathing was even, but his eyes were black with a cold, controlled fury I had never seen before.
Behind him, the hallway was empty. He had left the guests in the dining room, but the tension radiating from him proved he hadn’t left the engagement dinner to simply fetch me. He had come because he knew Vanessa was missing from the table, too.
He looked at his fiancée.
Then he looked at me.
“Do you have the cards?” he asked.
I didn’t speak. I just held out my left hand.
He took the four cream place cards. He didn’t even look at the names. He already knew who they belonged to.
But his eyes dropped to my right hand, which was clenched into a tight fist against my apron.
“What else did you find in that drawer, Emma?”
Vanessa made a tiny, desperate sound in her throat. A warning.
They’ll kill the boy.
I thought of little Leo. He was a sweet, quiet child who spent his afternoons drawing at the kitchen island while I prepped vegetables. He always asked me to tape his crayon drawings of airplanes to the refrigerator.
I couldn’t risk a child’s life. Not even for a man who paid my salary.
“Nothing, sir,” I lied, my voice steady. “Just the cards.”
Luca stepped fully into the small pantry.
He didn’t yell. He didn’t threaten.
He just reached out, took my right wrist, and gently but firmly pried my fingers open.
The silver pocket watch gleamed in the dim overhead light.
The broken chain dangled toward the floor.
Luca stared at his dead brother’s watch.
The silence in the room became suffocating. I watched his thumb slowly brush over the etched initials on the casing. M.M.
When he finally looked up, his expression was utterly blank. That terrified me more than anger.
“My brother’s watch has been kept in a locked safe in my study for three years,” Luca said. His voice was soft. Dangerous. “The only two people with the combination are me…”
He turned his head slowly to look at Vanessa.
“…and you.”
Vanessa backed up until her shoulders hit the shelving unit. Crystal glasses rattled faintly behind her.
“Luca, let me explain—”
“Why is Marco’s watch in the pantry, Vanessa?”
“I didn’t put it there! Adrian had it—”
She stopped. She realized her mistake instantly.
“Adrian,” Luca repeated. “Your brother broke into my safe?”
“No! He didn’t break in. I… I opened it for him.”
“Why?”
Vanessa closed her eyes. “He owed money, Luca. A lot of money. To some very bad people in New York. They wanted a guarantee. Something of value to hold until he could pay them back.”
I watched Luca absorb this.
He didn’t explode. He just tilted his head.
“So my fiancée gave my dead brother’s heirloom to a degenerate gambler to pay off his debts.”
“It was only temporary!” she cried.
“Then why is it in the pantry drawer tonight?”
Vanessa shook her head frantically. “I don’t know! I swear to God, Luca. Adrian was supposed to give it to the New York guys tomorrow. I don’t know why he hid it in here.”
Luca stared at her for a long time.
“You’re lying.”
“I’m not!”
“Yes, you are.” Luca pulled a folded piece of paper from his tuxedo pocket. “Because I found this in Adrian’s coat when I went looking for him just now.”
He threw the paper onto the floor at Vanessa’s feet.
It was a one-way train ticket.
To Montreal.
Dated for tonight. 11:30 PM.
“Adrian isn’t going to New York tomorrow,” Luca said. “He’s running. And he didn’t hide the watch in the drawer. He dropped it.”
Luca turned to me.
“Emma. Where is Frank’s coat-check ticket?”
I blinked, completely thrown by the sudden shift. “It’s… it’s in my pocket, sir.”
“Give it to me.”
I reached into my apron and pulled out the small blue ticket Frank DeLuca had handed me before he walked out into the cold night.
Luca snatched it. He turned it over.
On the back, written in hurried black ink, were three numbers.
4-0-2.
Luca closed his eyes. A muscle in his jaw feathered.
“It wasn’t Frank who betrayed me,” Luca whispered. “It was you.”
Vanessa fell to her knees. “Luca, please!”
But Luca was already turning back to me, his eyes wide with a sudden, terrible realization.
“Emma. When Adrian arrived tonight… what was he carrying?”
I searched my memory of the busy foyer.
“He had a duffel bag, sir. And a coat.”
“Whose coat?”
My blood ran cold.
“A yellow raincoat, sir. A child’s coat.”
Luca didn’t say another word. He sprinted out of the pantry.
I ran after him, leaving Vanessa sobbing on the floor.
We rushed up the grand staircase, taking the steps two at a time. Luca slammed open the door to Leo’s bedroom at the end of the hall.
The bed was empty.
The window was open, the cold Chicago wind blowing the curtains wildly.
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And pinned to the pillow with a steak knife from the kitchen was a child’s crayon drawing of an airplane.
TITLE: THE ROSARY IN THE RAIN
