Chapter 8 - The Cabin Under Another Name
The cabin stood three hours north of Boston.
Rocco wanted to go.
Detective Ellis refused.
"This isn't a negotiation."
"He has information about my wife."
"He may also have access to weapons."
Rocco stared at her.
Ellis did not blink.
"You stay here."
For most people, telling Rocco Moretti to stay anywhere was difficult.
That night he agreed.
Not because Ellis intimidated him.
Because Mia needed him more than revenge did.
Police units reached the cabin before dawn.
Ralph was not there.
But someone had been.
A fireplace still held warm ashes.
Food had been opened.
A sleeping bag lay across the floor.
And inside a kitchen cabinet investigators found a phone charger matching Ralph's burner phone.
They also found old property documents.
The cabin had originally belonged to Isabella's grandmother.
Isabella inherited it before marrying Rocco.
Years later, she transferred management access to Bernice for maintenance.
Rocco had never known.
Detective Ellis called at six twelve in the morning.
"We missed him."
"How long?"
"Maybe an hour."
"Where would he go?"
"We're working on it."
"Did you find the phone?"
"No."
Rocco ended the call.
Mia entered the kitchen wearing pajamas and carrying Benny.
Rocco immediately changed expression.
"You're up early."
"Hungry."
The word made something inside him ache.
He crouched.
"What would you like?"
"Pancakes."
Rocco smiled.
"I can do that."
Mia looked suspicious.
"You burn them."
"I have improved."
"You burned toast yesterday."
"Toast is complicated."
Mia smiled for the first time since his return.
Rocco made pancakes.
He did burn the first one.
Mia laughed.
It was a small laugh.
But it filled the kitchen.
When Bernice heard it from the room where she was being questioned, her expression tightened.
For years, she had believed Rocco's greatest weakness was grief.
She had been wrong.
His greatest weakness was Mia.
And his greatest strength was the same thing.
At eight thirty, Detective Ellis returned.
She carried an evidence bag.
Inside was a handwritten note found in the cabin fireplace.
Most of it had burned.
One line remained.
B knows about the car.
Rocco stared at it.
"B."
"Could be Bernice."
"Could?"
"We don't guess."
"What about Ralph?"
"Still missing."
Ellis sat.
"There is something else. The accident reconstruction file contained a photograph that wasn't included in your copy."
Rocco looked at her.
"Why?"
"Administrative error, possibly."
She placed another image down.
Isabella's damaged SUV stood near the roadside.
Ellis pointed toward the rear wheel.
"There was a fresh cut in the brake sensor cable."
Rocco's face went cold.
"Was it investigated?"
"Briefly. The mechanic concluded road debris may have caused it."
"May have?"
"Yes."
"Who hired the mechanic?"
Ellis hesitated.
Then answered.
"Your household office arranged the inspection."
Rocco knew before she continued.
"Bernice."
Ellis nodded.
Rocco stood.
"Arrest her."
"We already have enough on fraud and child endangerment to hold her."
"Then do it."
"We will."
"What about my wife?"
"We need more."
Rocco looked toward the hallway.
Bernice was brought out in handcuffs minutes later.
For the first time, her composure cracked.
"You think you understand this?"
Rocco said nothing.
Bernice laughed.
"Isabella wasn't the saint you remember."
Rocco stepped forward.
Detective Ellis raised a hand.
Bernice continued.
"Ask yourself why she was driving alone that night."
Rocco stared at her.
"Where was she going?"
Bernice smiled.
"Exactly."
Then officers took her away.
The words followed Rocco for the rest of the morning.
Where was Isabella going?
He searched old calendar records.
Phone logs.
Foundation notes.
At two twenty that afternoon, Gideon found the answer.
Isabella had reserved a private meeting at a bank in Concord.
Purpose unspecified.
The appointment was scheduled for nine the next morning.
She died the night before.
Rocco stared at the confirmation.
Then Gideon opened another recovered document.
A scanned safe deposit box agreement.
Isabella Moretti.
Concord National Bank.
Box 317.
Rocco looked at Gideon.
"Is it still active?"
Gideon nodded slowly.
"Yes."
May you like
"Who can open it?"
"You."
