Chapter 4 - Samuel Walker’s Shadow
By sunrise, nobody admitted being in the hallway.
Victor reviewed camera footage.
Nothing.
The kitchen corridor camera had gone offline at 1:47 a.m.
It returned at 2:31.
According to the system log, the interruption had been caused by “scheduled maintenance.”
Victor’s face made clear that no maintenance had been scheduled.
Grace sat at the breakfast table with coffee she had forgotten to drink.
“You have an employee problem,” she said.
Victor stood across from her.
“I have noticed.”
Luca remained near the window.
“Who can disable cameras without triggering an alarm?”
Victor answered reluctantly.
“Me. Two senior technicians. Mr. Moretti.”
“And?”
Victor hesitated.
Luca turned.
“Say it.”
“Legacy administrative accounts.”
“How many?”
“Four.”
“Names.”
“Your father’s account was never deleted.”
Luca’s expression hardened.
“Antonio has been dead eleven years.”
“Yes.”
“Who else?”
“Teresa has limited administrative access.”
Grace frowned.
“Teresa?”
“For household systems.”
“And the fourth?”
Victor looked at Luca.
“Vincent Moretti.”
The room changed.
Grace set down her cup.
“I thought Vincent was gone.”
“He is,” Luca said.
“Gone where?”
“Europe, mostly.”
“That doesn’t answer whether he can access the cameras.”
Victor did.
“Technically, yes.”
“Remotely?”
“Yes.”
Grace looked from one man to the other.
“So the person your father suspected, the person who accused my father of stealing, still has administrative access to your security system?”
Luca’s voice went cold.
“Not anymore.”
Victor left immediately.
Grace watched him go.
“You trust him?”
“With my life.”
“Dad trusted your family.”
Luca looked at her.
She regretted the cruelty but not enough to apologize.
He nodded once.
“Fair.”
Grace stood.
“I’m going to my apartment.”
“No.”
She turned.
“Excuse me?”
“If that key opens the compartment, someone may know you have it.”
“Nobody knows.”
“You just told me.”
“And you think you’re the threat?”
“No. I think our midnight listener may have heard more than we realized.”
“I am not a prisoner here.”
“I didn’t say you were.”
“It sounded remarkably similar.”
Luca stepped closer.
“Grace, whoever framed Samuel transferred millions, falsified evidence and maintained access to this estate for over a decade. If they believe your father left you something—”
“They’ve had twelve years to come after me.”
“Yes.”
“And they didn’t.”
“Because they believed Samuel was dead and his evidence lost.”
Grace stopped.
Luca continued.
“Yesterday six dogs publicly identified you as someone connected to him. Last night we discovered a hidden lock.”
The logic was irritating because it was sound.
“So what do you suggest?”
“Victor retrieves the key.”
“No.”
“Grace—”
“No. I don’t know Victor.”
“You know me less.”
“Exactly.”
A muscle moved in Luca’s jaw.
“I go with you.”
Grace folded her arms.
“Do you always solve disagreements by assigning yourself to them?”
“Usually.”
“I’m beginning to understand why you’re unmarried.”
For one second Luca looked genuinely caught off guard.
Then he laughed.
It was quiet.
Grace had not expected it.
Neither, apparently, had the staff member passing the doorway, who nearly walked into the frame.
Luca noticed.
His expression reset.
“Ten minutes.”
“For what?”
“We leave.”
Grace sighed.
“Fine.”
Titan came too.
Of course he did.
Victor insisted on driving.
Grace sat in the back of a black SUV with Luca on one side and Titan somehow occupying most of the remaining space.
“This is ridiculous,” she said.
Luca looked at the dog.
“He disagrees.”
“He weighs more than I do.”
“Not quite.”
Grace turned slowly.
Luca realized his mistake.
“I did not mean—”
“Finish that sentence.”
“I value my life.”
Victor made a suspicious coughing sound from the front seat.
Grace looked out the window to hide a smile.
Her neighborhood sat forty minutes from the Moretti estate and several tax brackets away.
Grace’s building was old but clean.
Three stories.
Brick exterior.
A laundromat downstairs.
Luca glanced at the narrow stairwell as they entered.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
“You have a face for nothing.”
“I was wondering how you carry groceries up three flights.”
“With my hands.”
“Every week?”
“No. Tuesdays I levitate.”
He smiled again.
That bothered Grace more than the intimidating version of him.
The frightening Luca Moretti was easy to categorize.
The man who teased her about groceries was not.
Her apartment smelled faintly of cinnamon.
A stack of cookbooks occupied one wall.
Plants filled the window ledges.
A small framed photograph of Samuel sat beside the television.
Luca stopped when he saw it.
Grace noticed.
“That was taken six months before he disappeared.”
Samuel stood beside Grace at a county fair.
Grace was twenty.
Her hair was shorter.
Samuel had flour on his shirt because he had entered a pie-eating contest after claiming the prize money would pay their electric bill.
He had lost.
Badly.
But the photograph captured him laughing.
Luca approached.
“I never saw him like that.”
“Like what?”
“Relaxed.”
Grace looked at the picture.
“He was my dad here. Not whoever he was at your house.”
She went to the bedroom.
At the back of her closet sat a faded blue storage box.
Grace carried it to the table.
She had opened it perhaps three times in twelve years.
Samuel’s belongings remained exactly where she had left them.
A pocketknife.
Photographs.
A cracked pair of reading glasses.
Receipts.
A small Bible that Samuel never attended church enough to justify owning.
And beneath everything, wrapped inside an old handkerchief, lay the brass key.
Grace lifted it.
Luca leaned closer.
A tiny shape was engraved on one side.
A dog’s head.
On the other were two letters.
S.W.
“That’s it,” Grace whispered.
Titan sniffed the key.
Then suddenly turned toward the front door.
His body stiffened.
Luca noticed instantly.
“Victor.”
The security chief already had his hand near his radio.
Someone knocked.
Three slow knocks.
Grace’s heart jumped.
“Expecting anyone?” Luca asked.
“No.”
Victor moved beside the door.
“Who is it?”
A woman answered.
“Grace?”
Grace froze.
She knew the voice.
“Aunt Helen?”
She opened the door before Victor could stop her.
Helen Walker stood in the hallway.
She was sixty-three now, smaller than Grace remembered from childhood, with carefully dyed blond hair and a beige coat.
Her expression changed when she saw Luca.
Then Titan.
Then the brass key in Grace’s hand.
The color drained from her face.
Grace noticed.
“Aunt Helen?”
Helen stared at the key.
“Where did you get that?”
Grace’s stomach tightened.
“It was Dad’s.”
“You need to throw it away.”
Nobody moved.
“What?”
Helen stepped inside.
Her eyes remained fixed on Luca.
“You shouldn’t be here.”
Luca’s expression became unreadable.
“We haven’t met.”
“I know who you are.”
Grace looked between them.
“Aunt Helen, what is happening?”
Helen ignored the question.
She grabbed Grace’s wrist.
“Listen to me. Whatever these people told you about Samuel, leave it alone.”
Grace pulled free.
“These people?”
“The Morettis.”
“You knew Dad worked for them.”
Helen closed her eyes.
That was answer enough.
Grace felt betrayed all over again.
“You knew.”
“I knew enough.”
“For twelve years?”
“I was trying to protect you.”
“That sentence is becoming extremely popular.”
Helen lowered her voice.
“Samuel got involved in something he should never have touched.”
“He was framed.”
Helen’s expression flickered.
Grace saw it.
“You know that too.”
“No.”
“You do.”
“Grace—”
“Was Dad alive after the truck burned?”
Silence.
Grace’s heart stopped.
Luca watched Helen carefully.
Victor closed the apartment door.
Helen looked trapped.
Grace stepped closer.
“Answer me.”
“I don’t know.”
“That’s not what I asked.”
“I don’t know.”
“But you suspected.”
Helen began crying.
Grace had never seen her aunt cry.
Not at Samuel’s funeral.
Not when they lowered the empty casket.
Not when Grace sold his tools to pay debts.
“Why are you crying?”
Helen’s voice broke.
“Because he came to see me.”
Grace stopped breathing.
“When?”
Helen looked at the floor.
“Two nights after the fire.”
The room disappeared around Grace.
Luca’s expression sharpened.
Victor went perfectly still.
Grace heard herself whisper.
“My father visited you after everyone thought he was dead?”
Helen nodded.
Grace grabbed the edge of the table.
“What did he say?”
“He was injured. Terrified.”
“Where did he go?”
“I don’t know.”
“Did he ask for me?”
Helen sobbed.
“Yes.”
Grace’s anger erupted.
“And you didn’t tell me?”
“He made me promise!”
“There it is again!”
Grace’s shout frightened even herself.
Titan pressed against her.
Grace’s tears came hot and immediate.
“My whole life was apparently built on promises everyone made to a man who never bothered asking what I wanted!”
Helen covered her mouth.
“He believed if you knew he was alive, they would use you to find him.”
“Who?”
“I don’t know.”
“You keep saying that.”
“Because Samuel refused to tell me!”
Luca stepped forward.
“What did he give you?”
Helen looked at him.
“Nothing.”
Luca said quietly, “Mrs. Walker.”
“I said nothing.”
Titan suddenly growled.
Not at Helen.
At her handbag.
Everyone looked down.
Helen’s face changed.
Grace stared.
“What is in your bag?”
“Nothing.”
Titan growled again.
Grace reached.
Helen pulled away.
Luca caught her wrist—not violently, but firmly.
“Open it.”
Helen’s shoulders collapsed.
She slowly unzipped the bag.
Inside was an old envelope.
Yellowed.
Sealed.
Grace recognized the handwriting before Helen even removed it.
Her name was written across the front.
Grace.
Her knees nearly gave way.
“A letter?”
Helen nodded.
“From Dad?”
“Yes.”
“How long have you had it?”
Helen could barely answer.
“Twelve years.”
Grace stared at the woman who had helped raise her.
The woman who had stood beside her at Samuel’s empty grave.
The woman who had watched Grace spend more than a decade believing her father died without saying goodbye.
Grace reached for the envelope.
Helen tightened her grip.
“No.”
Grace looked at her.
“He told me not to give it to you unless one thing happened.”
“What?”
Helen’s gaze moved toward Titan.
Grace followed it.
The old dog stood beside her.
Helen whispered the condition Samuel had given twelve years earlier.
“Only if the scarred dog finds her first.”
And suddenly the arrival of Titan was no longer a coincidence.
It was a signal.
May you like
A signal Samuel Walker had planned before he disappeared.
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