Chapter 8 - THE BODYGUARD WITH TWO LOYALTIES
I didn't call Gabriel.
Not immediately.
I called Naomi.
Then Detective Ellison.
Within an hour, the wooden panel and letter were in protective custody.
Investigators began examining their authenticity.
Mateo had worked for Gabriel for nearly twenty years.
He had been young when Luca died.
Too young, I thought, to have been involved.
But the letter suggested otherwise.
Detective Ellison asked me to describe Mateo.
I told her what I knew.
Calm.
Efficient.
Loyal.
Always nearby.
She listened.
Then said:
“Loyalty to one person doesn't mean loyalty to everyone.”
That evening, Gabriel called.
I answered.
“Shantel.”
“Gabriel.”
His voice sounded strained.
“Detective Ellison contacted me.”
I closed my eyes.
“About Mateo?”
“Yes.”
I waited.
Gabriel continued.
“I've asked him to step away from my businesses while the investigation proceeds.”
I stared.
“You believe it?”
“I believe the evidence deserves examination.”
For the first time, he wasn't asking me to trust his judgment.
He was allowing the process to work.
Two days later, investigators uncovered something unexpected.
Mateo had been assigned to transport Luca on the day of the boating accident.
But he had not been the person who arranged the trip.
He had been ordered to deliver the boy to the dock.
He claimed he didn't know what would happen.
When questioned, Mateo admitted he had concealed information for years.
He said Richard Carrington had threatened his family.
He also claimed he had tried to warn Isabella.
Gabriel was devastated.
He called me late that night.
“I trusted him.”
I sat by the window.
“I know.”
“He was like a brother.”
I closed my eyes.
“Gabriel, you need to let the investigators do their work.”
He was silent.
Then said:
“You're right.”
The next morning, Mateo agreed to cooperate.
His statement identified a network of people who had helped conceal the truth about Luca's death.
He also revealed where the stolen painting had been taken.
A private gallery in Connecticut.
Owned by Vivian Carrington.
The painting was recovered under a warrant.
I was asked to examine it as a specialist.
I agreed, with Naomi present.
When I saw it again, my breath caught.
The woman with the white lily.
My mother's brushwork.
The original frame.
I carefully examined the lower rail.
There.
The six-petaled flower.
The hidden seam.
Under controlled conditions, the conservators opened the compartment.
Inside was a narrow metal tube.
And inside that—
A rolled strip of paper.
I watched as the investigator unfolded it.
Names.
Dates.
Account numbers.
And one sentence in my mother's handwriting.
If anything happens to me, Gabriel must know the truth about Luca.
I stared.
Then whispered:
“What truth?”
The investigator turned the paper over.
On the back was a photograph.
Luca.
Alive.
May you like
Standing beside a hospital bed.
Dated six months after his supposed death.
