Chapter 12 - The Woman With Two Names
I didn't go to the church alone.
Nadia insisted on calling Detective Shaw.
Shaw arrived with another officer.
By the time we reached the building, Rachel Harris was gone.
The church secretary told us she had left fifteen minutes earlier.
"Was she alone?" Shaw asked.
The secretary hesitated.
"A woman came for her."
"What woman?"
"Middle-aged."
"Hair color?"
"Dark brown."
"Anything distinctive?"
The secretary thought.
"She wore a cream coat."
My stomach tightened.
Celeste had worn a cream coat outside Le Triomphe.
But thousands of women owned cream coats.
I forced myself not to jump to conclusions.
"Did Rachel seem upset?" Shaw asked.
"Yes."
"Was she forced to leave?"
"I didn't see anything like that."
"Did they leave together?"
"Yes."
The secretary looked toward me.
"Rachel gave me something."
She reached beneath the reception desk.
A small envelope.
Across the front was my name.
I stared at it.
Shaw immediately took charge of preserving and documenting the envelope.
Then she opened it using proper evidence procedures.
Inside was a photograph.
A woman standing beside a delivery van.
Dark hair.
Black service uniform.
Silver bracelet.
Her face was clearly visible.
I had never seen her before.
But Detective Shaw had.
I could tell by the way her expression changed.
"Who is she?" I asked.
Shaw didn't answer immediately.
Nadia stepped closer.
"Detective?"
Shaw looked at the photograph.
"Her name is Emilia Costa."
I repeated it.
"Emilia Costa."
"At least that's one of the names she's used."
"Who is she?"
Shaw took a breath.
"An interpreter."
I stared at her.
"What?"
"She has worked in international business and legal translation."
My skin prickled.
"Why would an interpreter dress like me?"
Shaw looked at Nadia.
Then back at me.
"Because five years ago, Emilia Costa worked for Lucia Ferretti."
I felt the room tilt.
"Of course she did."
Nadia asked, "Do you have a current address?"
Shaw shook her head.
"Not yet."
"Then we need to find her."
The detective was already making calls.
I stood near the church window.
Outside, people hurried past carrying groceries.
A father lifted a toddler into a stroller.
Two teenagers laughed under a shared umbrella.
Ordinary life continued.
I felt like I was watching it from behind thick glass.
Nadia approached.
"Mara."
I looked at her.
"There's something you're thinking."
"Yes."
"What?"
"Emilia knew how to handle the document."
"And the wine?"
"Maybe."
I stared at the photograph.
"But why steal my bracelet?"
"To identify herself as you?"
"That's what I thought."
"Now?"
I swallowed.
"I think she wanted Daniel to recognize the bracelet."
Nadia frowned.
"Why?"
"Because Daniel was supposed to survive long enough to identify me."
Nadia went still.
"That would require planning."
"Yes."
"And it would mean the poisoning may have involved more than one intended victim."
I nodded.
"Exactly."
I looked down at the photograph again.
Then a detail caught my eye.
Emilia was wearing a necklace.
A small gold pendant.
An oval with a dark center.
I had seen something like it before.
Not on Emilia.
On Celeste.
At the dinner.
When she'd leaned forward to shout at me, the pendant had slipped beneath her blouse.
A matching oval.
Dark center.
Same thin chain.
I looked at Shaw.
"Detective."
She turned.
"Yes?"
"I think I recognize that necklace."
By midnight, investigators had identified the pendant as a piece from a limited collection sold by an Italian luxury jeweler.
That alone proved nothing.
But the purchaser records showed something interesting.
Two identical pendants had been bought six years earlier.
Both charged to an account associated with the Rinaldi Family Foundation.
One had been delivered to Celeste Rinaldi.
The other to a woman named Emilia V.
Not Costa.
V.
The detective showed Nadia the record.
I leaned closer.
"What's the last name?"
Shaw hesitated.
"Valenti."
I felt my stomach drop.
"Emilia Valenti?"
She nodded.
I stared at her.
"That name was in my father's records."
Nadia turned.
"Where?"
"One of the old receipts."
"The payment descriptions."
I was already reaching for my phone.
I opened the photographs Caleb had taken of the cash box.
There it was.
A payment record from 2003.
Consulting and document review - E. Valenti.
Twenty-three years earlier.
Before Dominic's father died.
Before Isabella disappeared.
Before my father became afraid.
Emilia Valenti had been involved.
I looked up.
"She isn't just Lucia's interpreter."
Shaw's expression was grim.
"No."
"Who is she?"
The detective opened another file.
A photograph appeared.
It showed Emilia standing beside a younger Isabella Ferretti.
And between them was a baby stroller.
Shaw looked at me.
"According to one witness from the original investigation, Emilia Valenti was Isabella's personal assistant."
I stopped breathing.
"She was there when Sofia disappeared."
"Possibly."
I stared at the photograph.
Then something clicked.
The child had been moved before the crash.
Someone had transported her.
Someone had known how to get through private security.
Someone had known exactly which records needed changing.
"Emilia took the baby," I whispered.
Shaw didn't confirm it.
But she didn't dismiss it either.
Then her phone rang.
She listened.
Her face hardened.
"Where?"
Another pause.
"Keep the scene secure."
She ended the call.
Nadia looked at her.
"What happened?"
Shaw turned toward us.
"Rachel Harris has been found."
I felt relief flood through me.
"Is she okay?"
The detective looked directly at me.
"She's alive."
I swallowed.
"But?"
"She's in a police station in Brooklyn."
"Why?"
"She walked in voluntarily."
"And?"
May you like
Shaw's voice dropped.
"She says Celeste Rinaldi paid her husband twenty thousand dollars to deliver the wine."
