Chapter 7 - The First Grave Was Empty
The court-authorized exhumation began at 7:30 the next morning.
Alexander did not attend.
Rebecca Shaw had insisted that investigators work without family representatives present.
He understood.
He still hated it.
He spent the morning in a secure conference room with Elena, Benjamin, and a forensic accountant named Priya Desai.
Priya had spent the previous decade investigating complex corporate fraud.
She was small, intensely focused, and unimpressed by billionaires.
"Your family companies are a nightmare," she told Alexander.
"That's encouraging."
"I'm not here to encourage you."
She spread several financial diagrams across the table.
"I'm here because your wife may have uncovered a criminal network operating through approximately two dozen related entities."
Alexander studied the papers.
"These are medical subsidiaries."
"Some."
"And property-management companies."
"Yes."
"What's the common connection?"
Priya tapped the center of the chart.
"Northbridge."
Elena leaned forward.
"The patient services agency."
"That's one branch."
Priya drew a circle around a holding company registered in Delaware.
"Northbridge Administrative Trust."
Alexander recognized the name.
"My father established that in the nineties."
"Correct."
"Why does it matter?"
"Because every suspicious transaction eventually passes through one of its accounts."
Priya pointed to several entries.
"Insurance payouts."
"Commercial property transfers."
"Medical facility acquisitions."
"Private transport contracts."
"And consulting fees to people with no legitimate consulting business."
Alexander looked at the totals.
"How much money?"
"Over twenty years?"
She hesitated.
"Potentially hundreds of millions."
Elena went pale.
Alexander stared at the papers.
"How did I miss this?"
Priya didn't soften the answer.
"You didn't ask for the underlying records."
He looked away.
"Your company's financial statements were consolidated."
She continued.
"The legitimate businesses were profitable enough that the smaller entities could disappear into the totals."
Alexander thought of his father calling those companies administrative leftovers.
Nothing you need to worry about, Alex.
He had accepted it.
He'd had acquisitions to negotiate.
Employees to manage.
A marriage to save.
He had never imagined that the family legacy beneath his feet might be rotten.
Priya opened another file.
"Your wife requested these records six months before her disappearance."
Alexander looked up.
"How do you know?"
"Her access requests were logged."
"Who denied them?"
Priya turned the page.
"Your father."
Alexander stared.
"And who reported her attempts?"
Priya hesitated.
"According to the internal email chain, you did."
The room fell silent.
Alexander reached for the document.
There it was.
An email sent from his office.
Dad, Isabella is asking about the Northbridge accounts again.
Can you explain why she seems concerned?
He remembered writing it.
He'd been frustrated.
Exhausted.
He'd wanted his father to reassure her so they could stop fighting.
He had unknowingly pointed the criminals directly toward the woman he loved.
Alexander sat back.
"She trusted me."
Elena looked at him.
"She probably still does."
"Why would she?"
"Because she sent me to you."
Alexander shook his head.
"She spent five years paying for my stupidity."
Priya quietly closed the folder.
"Mr. Moretti, guilt may be understandable."
"But it won't help us find her."
Alexander looked up.
"Then keep going."
At noon, Rebecca called.
Alexander answered immediately.
"Tell me."
There was a pause.
"The grave contained human remains."
His heart sank.
For a moment, he couldn't speak.
Rebecca continued.
"But the preliminary findings indicate they were not your wife's."
Alexander closed his eyes.
"Who was it?"
"We don't have a confirmed identity yet."
"Man or woman?"
"Woman."
"Age?"
"Estimated late twenties to early thirties at the time of death."
Alexander looked at Elena.
Rebecca continued.
"There are indications the body was placed in the coffin after death, but we need further examination."
"Was she murdered?"
"We can't determine that yet."
Alexander stood.
"I want to know her name."
"We're working on it."
"No."
His voice sharpened.
"I want you to understand something."
"Mr. Moretti—"
"For five years, I visited that grave."
"I brought flowers."
"I talked to a woman who had no family beside her."
Rebecca fell silent.
Alexander swallowed.
"Whoever she was, somebody deserves to know where she is."
When the call ended, Elena was crying.
Alexander looked at her.
"What?"
She shook her head.
"It's nothing."
"Elena."
She wiped her eyes.
"Isabella told me you were a good man."
Alexander laughed bitterly.
"She was mistaken."
"No."
Elena stepped closer.
"She said you made mistakes because you wanted to believe the best about people."
"That doesn't excuse anything."
"I know."
"But she also said you never stopped loving her."
Alexander looked away.
Elena touched the photograph on the table.
"That's why she wanted me to find you."
That evening, the first major break came from an unexpected source.
A woman named Carol Bennett called Rebecca's office.
Carol had worked as a mortuary assistant at the funeral home that handled Isabella's burial.
She claimed she had seen something suspicious.
Rebecca arranged an interview.
Alexander was permitted to observe remotely.
Carol appeared on the screen wearing a faded blue cardigan.
Her hands trembled around a paper cup.
"I was told not to touch the coffin."
Rebecca leaned forward.
"By whom?"
"Mr. Vincent Moretti."
"Did that seem unusual?"
"Very."
"Why?"
"Because he'd hired us."
Carol swallowed.
"He insisted the casket remain closed at all times."
Rebecca nodded.
"What did you see?"
Carol lowered her eyes.
"The evening before the funeral, a truck arrived at the rear entrance."
"Who was driving?"
"I don't know."
"Was anyone with him?"
"Two men."
"Can you describe them?"
"One was older."
"Tall."
"Gray hair."
"And the other?"
Carol hesitated.
"His left hand was silver."
Alexander rose so abruptly that his chair struck the wall.
Benjamin grabbed his arm.
"Sir."
On the screen, Rebecca asked another question.
"Did you see what they unloaded?"
Carol nodded.
"A smaller coffin."
The room went silent.
Rebecca leaned forward.
"A coffin?"
"Yes."
"Why?"
Carol began crying.
"Because the first one was empty."
Alexander stared at the screen.
Rebecca asked, "Are you saying the remains were transferred into the ceremonial coffin the night before the funeral?"
Carol nodded.
"And the woman inside wasn't Mrs. Moretti."
"How do you know?"
Carol swallowed.
"Because I saw her face."
Rebecca lowered her voice.
"Did you recognize her?"
Carol nodded again.
"She had worked at the funeral home."
Alexander felt cold.
"What?"
Carol began to cry harder.
"Her name was Natalie Price."
"She disappeared a month before the funeral."
Rebecca stared.
"Did you tell anyone?"
"Yes."
"Who?"
"Detective Kessler."
"And what did he say?"
Carol pressed a tissue against her mouth.
"He told me Natalie had run away."
"Then he told me if I loved my children, I should forget what I'd seen."
The recording ended.
Alexander stood in silence.
Another woman's life had been stolen to make Isabella's death believable.
He turned toward Elena.
"This isn't only about my family anymore."
She nodded.
"No."
"It's about everyone they erased."
At that moment, Benjamin's phone rang.
He answered.
His expression changed almost immediately.
"Where?"
A pause.
"How long ago?"
He looked at Alexander.
"What happened?" Alexander asked.
Benjamin lowered the phone.
"Frank's garage was broken into."
Alexander felt his stomach drop.
"Lucy?"
"She's safe."
He exhaled.
"Where?"
"Frank moved her before the intruders arrived."
"How did he know?"
Benjamin hesitated.
"Someone warned him."
"Who?"
Benjamin looked directly at Alexander.
"A woman called the garage."
"She knew Lucy's name."
"She knew the emergency route."
"And she told Frank where to take her."
Alexander stopped breathing.
"Was it Isabella?"
Benjamin shook his head.
"We don't know."
"Then who?"
Benjamin swallowed.
"The caller said her name was Eleanor Moretti."
Alexander stared at him.
His mother.
A woman who had supposedly been dead for twenty-seven years.
May you like
Then Benjamin added one final detail.
"She said to tell you she was sorry she hadn't protected Isabella the way she should have protected you."
