Chapter 3 - The Red SUV
The license plate appeared on a neighboring estate camera.
Not clearly.
Enough.
Luca enhanced the frame through legitimate forensic review rather than guessing from pixels.
The plate belonged to a vehicle registered to Vale Logistics.
My company.
That narrowed the possibilities in the worst possible direction.
“Who had the SUV?”
Luca checked fleet records.
“Temporary assignment.”
“To whom?”
His silence told me I wouldn’t like it.
“Roman D’Angelo.”
My cousin.
My lieutenant.
The man I had trusted to handle family security when I traveled.
Claire sank into a chair.
I watched her.
“You know Roman.”
Everyone around me knew Roman.
But Claire knew what I meant.
She looked away.
“He helped with contractor access.”
“For the cellar?”
“Yes.”
That was the first truth she gave me voluntarily.
“Why?”
“He said you wanted privacy.”
“I never ordered anything.”
“I know that now.”
Another knock sounded.
Emergency responders arrived minutes later.
The padlock was cut.
The steel door opened.
Harper screamed “Mommy!” so violently that Luca carried her upstairs before she could see inside.
I stayed.
The basement room was cold.
Empty.
No Mia.
No person.
The knocks had come from a loose heating pipe striking the wall as the boiler cycled.
For one terrible second I felt ridiculous.
Then Luca pointed toward the floor.
A mattress.
Water bottles.
Food wrappers.
A torn piece of cream fabric.
And dark strands of hair caught around a floor drain.
Someone had been kept there.
A technician photographed everything.
One wall had scratch marks near the door.
Not proof of Mia.
But consistent with someone trying to get out.
Claire’s relief at finding the room empty lasted less than five seconds.
Then she saw the mattress.
“What is that?”
“You tell me.”
“I’ve never been down here.”
Luca found a disposable phone beneath the mattress.
Dead battery.
He bagged it untouched for investigators.
Then I noticed a tiny metallic glint beside the wall.
Another piece of the silver bird pendant.
The broken clasp.
Harper had found the pendant upstairs.
The clasp was downstairs.
That placed the jewelry in two separate locations.
Someone had carried it out after it broke.
Claire whispered:
“Dominic, listen to me.”
“No.”
“Roman was trying to help Mia.”
That stopped me.
“How?”
Claire’s breathing quickened.
“She came to him because she was scared of you.”
I stared at her.
“Of me?”
“She wanted to leave.”
That could have been true.
I had no right to dismiss it because it wounded my pride.
Then Luca’s phone rang.
Roman.
He answered on speaker.
Roman’s first words were:
“Dominic, whatever Claire told you, Mia never left this property with me.”
Claire closed her eyes.
Roman continued.
May you like
“She was already locked downstairs when I got there.”
📖 Roman admitted entering the mansion the night Mia vanished, but his claim meant someone had imprisoned her before he ever arrived. 👇
