Chapter 3 - THE PHOTOGRAPH WITH THREE MISSING PEOPLE
Z
Grandma Rose had never been good at keeping ordinary secrets.
She told Owen about his birthday present a week early.
She accidentally revealed surprise parties.
And she'd once spoiled the ending of a mystery novel by announcing the murderer while Delia was only on Chapter Four.
But when she said Evelyn had warned her about the Copper Lantern, her face changed in a way Delia had never seen.
“Grandma, what are you talking about?”
Rose rose slowly and crossed to a kitchen cabinet.
She reached behind a stack of chipped dinner plates and removed a faded envelope.
Delia recognized her mother's handwriting.
For Delia, when she's ready.
Her heart stopped.
“Why didn't you give me that?”
Rose sat down.
“Because your mother asked me to wait until someone came asking about the photograph.”
Delia felt cold.
“Who?”
Rose shook her head.
“She didn't know exactly.”
Delia opened the envelope.
Inside was another photograph.
The same one from the Copper Lantern.
Except this copy was wider.
It showed not two people but five.
Her mother stood beside the original bar owner, Patrick Coleman.
To their left were three men in dark suits.
One was elderly, with silver hair and an unmistakable scar beneath his right eye.
Another was a younger man holding a set of keys.
And the third—
Delia leaned closer.
He couldn't have been more than twelve.
Dark hair.
Serious eyes.
A frightened expression.
On the back, Evelyn had written:
Patrick, Evelyn, Lorenzo, Thomas, Adrian. June 17.
Delia stared at the last name.
“Adrian?”
Rose nodded.
“I think it's the boy your mother used to talk about.”
“What boy?”
Rose's hands trembled.
“The one she said had nowhere safe to go.”
The next morning, Delia sat beside Owen as he ate breakfast.
He looked at her.
“Are you going to work?”
She hesitated.
“Not today.”
“Are you sick?”
“No.”
“Did Wade fire you?”
Delia stared.
“How did you know?”
Owen shrugged.
“Because he always acts like a bully.”
She almost laughed.
Then he asked, “Are we going to lose the apartment?”
Her heart broke.
“No, buddy.”
It wasn't a promise she could guarantee.
But she wasn't ready to let her little brother carry the full weight of her fear.
Owen looked down at his cereal.
“I have sixty-two dollars saved.”
Delia swallowed.
“That's your birthday money.”
“I know.”
“You're keeping it.”
He frowned.
“But we're a team.”
Delia reached over and ruffled his hair.
“Exactly. And your job is to go to school and be nine.”
He made a face.
“That's not a real job.”
“Trust me. You're very good at it.”
At eleven, Delia went to the public library.
She searched for old articles about the Copper Lantern.
The original bar had opened twenty-two years earlier.
Patrick Coleman had operated it for nearly a decade before transferring ownership to his nephew, Wade.
One article mentioned that the bar once served as an unofficial meeting place for dockworkers and transportation employees.
Another contained a photograph of Patrick shaking hands with a prominent shipping businessman.
Lorenzo Moretti.
Delia stared at the name.
She knew it.
Everyone in New York knew it.
Lorenzo Moretti was the father of Adrian Moretti, the feared mafia boss whose name occasionally appeared in newspapers whenever federal investigators announced another organized-crime inquiry.
Delia opened a newer article.
A photograph filled the screen.
Adrian Moretti.
Thirty-three.
Dark suit.
Serious eyes.
The stranger from the bar.
She nearly dropped her coffee.
“Oh, my God.”
She'd paid thirty-five dollars for one of the most feared men on the East Coast.
Then she'd told his representative she didn't need his money.
She sat motionless.
Suddenly Wade's terror at the idea of calling police seemed almost ridiculous.
He had no idea whom he'd been humiliating.
Neither had she.
That afternoon, Gabriel Torres arrived at the laundromat.
He asked the attendant whether Delia was available.
The attendant called upstairs.
Delia came down reluctantly.
“You again.”
Gabriel smiled faintly.
“Good afternoon.”
“Is this about the umbrella? Because I'm returning it.”
“No.”
He handed her a business card.
“Mr. Moretti would like to speak with you.”
Delia folded her arms.
“Why?”
Gabriel hesitated.
“He believes he knew your mother.”
Her heart stopped.
“What?”
“He saw a photograph from the Copper Lantern.”
Delia looked down at the card.
Then whispered, “Adrian Moretti?”
Gabriel's expression changed.
“So you've learned his name.”
She nodded.
He studied her.
Then said quietly, “Miss Marsh, your mother protected him when he was a child.”
Delia stared.
May you like
Gabriel continued.
“And he believes the reason Wade removed her photograph is connected to a secret someone has spent twenty-two years trying to bury.”
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