Chapter 38 - The Woman in the Photograph
The answer came from Gino.
He stared at Rebecca Moretti’s old photograph for almost a minute before saying anything.
“I’ve seen her.”
Elena frowned.
“Rebecca?”
“No. This woman.”
He pointed to someone standing behind Rebecca in a wedding photograph from thirty-five years earlier.
Young.
Blond.
Half hidden.
Carol enlarged the image.
“Who is she?”
“Teresa Valenti.”
Dante knew the name.
“So do I.”
Elena turned.
“Explain.”
Teresa had been Rebecca’s personal assistant, house manager, and closest confidante.
After Rebecca died, Teresa vanished.
“Matteo told everyone she moved to Italy,” Gino said.
“Did she?”
Gino shook his head.
“I never believed it.”
Paul traced immigration records.
No departure under Teresa Valenti’s name.
Nicholas found something better.
A Vesper Ridge Capital payment had covered annual property taxes on a small house in Connecticut.
The owner was listed as Rachel Vale.
Age seventy-one.
Carol stared.
“Vale?”
“Andrew Vale’s mother,” Paul said.
Elena slowly understood.
“Andrew wasn’t working for Vincent because he was bought.”
Nicholas nodded.
“He was connected to Teresa.”
Within hours federal investigators obtained the legal history.
Andrew Vale had been born Andrew Valenti.
His mother changed their surname when he was twelve.
Teresa was alive.
Vincent Salerno’s attorney had been the son of Matteo’s mother’s most trusted employee.
The next afternoon, Elena sat across from Andrew inside Carol’s office.
He looked exhausted.
“You should have told us.”
“I couldn’t.”
“Why?”
“Because my mother is terrified.”
“Of Matteo?”
Andrew laughed.
“Matteo is locked in a concrete box.”
“Then who?”
“My father.”
Dante’s eyes narrowed.
“Vincent.”
Andrew nodded.
The room went silent.
Vincent Salerno and Teresa Valenti had maintained a secret relationship for decades.
Andrew was their son.
Teresa had helped Vincent conceal money using Rebecca Moretti’s identity.
When Vincent disappeared, Teresa became custodian of several hidden accounts.
Including the Legacy Reserve.
“Why transfer the forty-eight million now?” Elena asked.
Andrew stared at his hands.
“She didn’t.”
Nicholas leaned forward.
“Then who did?”
“My father.”
“From federal custody?”
“No.”
Andrew looked up.
“The transfer was scheduled months ago.”
A dead-man trigger.
If Vincent failed to authenticate his control at regular intervals, the money automatically moved according to Matteo’s beneficiary instructions.
Dante understood.
“Vincent didn’t know the reserve belonged to Matteo.”
“He discovered it last year.”
“And decided to take it.”
“Yes.”
Elena shook her head.
“Everyone keeps fighting over money nobody deserves.”
Andrew looked ashamed.
“My mother wants out.”
“Then bring her in.”
“She won’t trust federal agents.”
“Will she trust you?”
“She barely trusts me anymore.”
Elena stood.
“Then she can trust me.”
Dante immediately objected.
“No.”
Elena ignored him.
“Where is she?”
Andrew gave an address.
Connecticut.
Dante sighed.
“You’re not going alone.”
“I never said I was.”
Three hours later, Elena and Dante stood outside a modest white house surrounded by autumn trees.
Andrew waited in the car.
Elena knocked.
No answer.
She knocked again.
Finally, the door opened.
A frail woman with white-blond hair stared at Elena.
Tears instantly filled her eyes.
“Oh, dear God.”
Elena said nothing.
Teresa touched her mouth.
“You look exactly like she said you would.”
“Who?”
Teresa looked beyond Elena toward Dante.
Fear flashed across her face.
Then she whispered:
“Rebecca.”
Elena felt a chill.
“Rebecca Moretti has been dead for sixteen years.”
Teresa’s expression broke.
“No.”
Dante stepped closer.
“What are you saying?”
Teresa opened the door wider.
“Rebecca didn’t die.”
The world seemed to stop.
May you like
Teresa looked at Elena.
“Matteo killed the wrong woman.”
