Chapter 8
The official report on Lorenzo’s crash had been thin.
A late-night mountain road.
Rain.
Loss of control.
Vehicle through a guardrail.
No evidence of another car.
Victor had handled most of the aftermath because Serafina had been sedated in the hospital after collapsing at the morgue.
She hated remembering how dependent she had been.
Now she read everything.
The vehicle had undergone brake maintenance two days earlier.
The work had been arranged by a Bellandi-owned garage.
The invoice was approved by Nolan.
Serafina stared at the signature.
Nolan had been thirty-five.
Already managing estate vehicles.
Claire found the mechanic.
Retired.
Living outside Sacramento.
He remembered Lorenzo’s car because the job had been rushed.
“He wanted brakes checked?”
“No.”
The mechanic shook his head.
“Mr. Nolan told us replace the rear brake line.”
“Was it damaged?”
“Not that I remember.”
“Why replace it?”
“He said there'd been pressure loss.”
The original part was discarded.
Nothing illegal about that.
Nothing conclusive.
Then the mechanic remembered something else.
Victor personally picked up the vehicle.
Serafina’s breathing slowed.
“Victor?”
“Yes.”
“He usually had drivers.”
“That night he came himself.”
The timeline tightened.
Victor collected Lorenzo’s car.
Lorenzo died forty-eight hours later.
Still circumstantial.
Then Claire found a fuel receipt.
Victor’s car had purchased gasoline thirty miles from the crash site less than an hour before emergency services were called.
Serafina read the timestamp.
Anthony stood beside her.
“You think he followed Lorenzo.”
“I think he lied about where he was.”
Her voice had become very quiet.
Anthony looked toward her hands.
They were motionless.
“Serafina.”
She looked at him.
“If you're about to tell me not to do anything reckless, don't.”
Anthony exhaled.
“I was going to tell you Lorenzo called me that night.”
Everything inside her stopped.
Anthony reached into his jacket.
“I kept the voicemail.”
Seven years.
He had kept it for seven years.
Serafina stared at him.
“You had his voice?”
Anthony’s eyes lowered.
“I was afraid of what it meant.”
He placed an old phone on the desk.
May you like
For the second time in two days, Serafina realized the people closest to her had not merely hidden facts.
They had hidden her dead husband’s final words.
