Chapter 6 - THE WOMAN AT PIER SEVENTEEN
The warehouse at Pier 17 belonged to a medical supply company.
At least, that's what the public records said.
Investigators discovered that the company had been receiving funds from the charitable foundation.
The payments were listed as educational grants.
But there was no evidence of any educational program.
Dante stared at the records.
“Vincent.”
Rafael nodded.
“His signature is on several transfers.”
Police searched the warehouse.
They found medical equipment.
Shipping containers.
And a small office with recently wiped computers.
In a locked cabinet, investigators discovered a photograph of Elena.
Taken two days after her disappearance.
She was alive.
Sitting in a chair.
Holding a newspaper.
Dante nearly collapsed when he saw it.
I caught his arm.
He stared at the image.
“She's alive.”
I swallowed.
“Yes.”
But the photograph raised another question.
Why had someone kept proof that Elena was alive?
Detective Laura Bennett, the lead investigator, explained that it might have been used to control someone.
Dante looked at her.
“Control whom?”
She hesitated.
“Possibly you.”
The photograph had been stored with documents describing financial accounts linked to Vincent.
Investigators believed Vincent had been using the foundation to move money.
Elena discovered the scheme.
Then disappeared.
But there was no evidence that she remained at the warehouse.
That evening, Dante sat alone in his library.
I found him staring at the photograph.
He looked up.
“Maya.”
I approached.
“Are you okay?”
He laughed bitterly.
“No.”
I sat beside him.
He looked at the photograph.
“I spent three days thinking she left us.”
I swallowed.
“Tony told me.”
Dante nodded.
“Vincent said she had taken money. Said she was unhappy.”
I looked at him.
“Did you believe him?”
Dante closed his eyes.
“For a few hours.”
He opened them.
“I hate myself for that.”
I shook my head.
“You were frightened.”
He stared.
I continued.
“Fear makes people reach for explanations, even bad ones.”
Dante looked toward the doorway.
Sophia stood there holding her purple crayon.
She walked toward him.
Climbed into his lap.
And placed the crayon in his hand.
“Daddy,” she whispered.
He froze.
Sophia looked at the photograph.
“Find Mommy.”
Dante's eyes filled.
He wrapped his arms around her.
“I will.”
I watched them.
A father and daughter holding each other in a room full of expensive things that couldn't solve their pain.
May you like
And I knew something.
Whatever happened next, I couldn't simply walk away.
