Chapter 6 - THE WOMAN IN ISABELLA'S PHOTOGRAPH
The photograph was hidden inside the back cover of Isabella's notebook.
I found it while helping Dominic sort through the documents recovered from the music room.
It showed Isabella standing outside a community health clinic.
Beside her was a woman in a white coat.
The woman had shoulder-length blond hair and wore glasses.
On the back, Isabella had written:
DR. ELEANOR PRICE — ASK ABOUT THE CHILDREN.
Dominic studied the photograph.
"I don't recognize her."
I looked closer.
"Neither do I."
His attorney, Evelyn Hart, examined the name.
"Dr. Price worked with the Moretti Family Foundation seven years ago."
Dominic frowned.
"Doing what?"
"Reviewing pediatric care programs."
"Where is she now?"
Evelyn looked troubled.
"Her medical license remains active, but she left the foundation shortly after Isabella died."
"Why?"
"The records say she resigned."
I studied the photograph.
Isabella looked serious.
Not frightened exactly.
But determined.
"Maybe she tried to help," I said.
Dominic looked at me.
"That's what I'm hoping."
Evelyn arranged lawful contact with Dr. Price.
Two days later, the physician agreed to meet investigators.
Dominic and I attended a separate, authorized discussion afterward.
Eleanor Price was fifty-eight, with tired blue eyes and a measured voice.
When she saw Isabella's photograph, tears filled her eyes.
"She was a good woman."
Dominic swallowed.
"She was my wife."
"I know."
Eleanor looked down.
"I'm sorry for your loss."
He nodded.
Then asked, "What did she discover?"
Eleanor took a breath.
"The foundation funded several pediatric wellness initiatives. Some legitimate. Others had serious irregularities."
"What kind?"
"Children were being enrolled in programs under diagnoses that weren't adequately supported."
My stomach tightened.
Eleanor continued.
"Certain facilities received reimbursement for services that records did not establish had been provided."
Dominic's expression hardened.
"Who authorized the billing?"
"That was one of the questions Isabella and I were investigating."
"Victor?"
Eleanor hesitated.
"He managed the foundation's financial operations."
Dominic leaned forward.
"And what happened when you raised concerns?"
"I was told to stop."
"By whom?"
"Victor's office."
Silence filled the room.
Eleanor looked toward the photograph.
"Isabella wanted an independent audit. She said children should never become numbers used to justify moving money."
Tears filled my eyes.
That sounded exactly like the woman I'd known.
Then Eleanor said something that chilled me.
"Three days before she died, Isabella called me."
Dominic stopped breathing.
"What did she say?"
"She believed someone had accessed her private files."
"Who?"
"She didn't know."
Eleanor swallowed.
"But she was afraid information about Benjamin had been included."
Dominic went very still.
"Benjamin?"
"His medical records. School information. Family trust documents."
I looked at Dominic.
His expression had turned gray.
Eleanor continued.
"She said someone was collecting information that could be used to portray him as medically vulnerable."
The room became silent.
Isabella had been worried about Benjamin six years before Vanessa entered their lives.
Someone had been considering the boy's legal and financial status long before the engagement.
Dominic leaned forward.
"Did Isabella tell you who she suspected?"
Eleanor hesitated.
"She mentioned Victor."
A pause.
"And Lorenzo Bellini."
Vanessa's father.
Dominic closed his eyes.
The same families.
The same financial network.
The same effort to control Benjamin through supposedly medical decisions.
I felt sick.
Eleanor looked at us.
"There's something else."
Dominic opened his eyes.
"What?"
"Isabella asked me to preserve a document."
She removed a sealed envelope from her bag.
The investigators had already arranged appropriate documentation of the evidence.
Inside was an old memorandum.
It concerned a proposed trust amendment.
Under certain conditions, the document would have transferred administrative control of Benjamin's inheritance to Victor and a Bellini-affiliated trustee.
Dominic stared.
"I never approved this."
Eleanor nodded.
"Neither did Isabella."
I looked at the date.
Six years earlier.
One week before Isabella's death.
Dominic whispered, "They've been trying to do this since Benjamin was three."
His voice broke.
"And I let Vanessa into our home."
I watched him struggle to breathe.
For the first time, I understood that he wasn't simply angry about a broken engagement.
He was confronting the possibility that people he trusted had spent years trying to use his child.
May you like
And the woman who first discovered it had died before she could warn him.
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