Chapter 12 - The Nanny Who Lied
Monica cried before we even put her in a chair.
Not loud. Not dramatic.
The kind of crying that came from someone who had been afraid for a long time.
"I never wanted them hurt."
I stood across the table from her.
"You helped put a device in their wall."
"I didn't install it."
"You helped somebody get inside."
She covered her face.
Marco placed a photograph on the table. It showed the man caught in the fire jacket.
Evan Price recognized him as a former contractor named Neal Varga.
Varga had done electrical work at Red Hook five years earlier.
The same year Elena's husband died.
"Who hired you?" I asked.
Monica said nothing.
"Who?"
"Mr. Bennett."
Luca leaned forward. "And my mother?"
Monica's eyes moved toward him.
That tiny movement said enough.
"Celeste paid you," Luca said.
"She said the children would be safe."
"Safe where?" I asked.
Monica swallowed. "A private clinic upstate. They wanted them moved there for a few days."
"Why?"
"I don't know."
Marco slapped a file onto the table. "Try again."
Monica flinched.
"They said Mr. Moretti was unstable after his wife's death. That the board would act if there was proof he couldn't protect the children."
The word stability from Bianca's letter came back to me.
"They were going to kidnap my children and blame me for failing to protect them."
Monica nodded, crying harder.
"Then the trustees would remove you from company control temporarily."
"Temporarily," Luca said bitterly.
"Who gets control?"
She looked at him.
"Your mother."
Luca stood so fast his chair crashed backward.
"Where is she?"
"I don't know."
Marco stepped between them.
"Sit down."
Luca did not.
Monica whispered, "She was supposed to meet Bennett tonight after the transfer."
"Where?" I asked.
"Northstar clinic."
Dr. Gable, watching through the glass, went pale.
"Northstar doesn't have a clinic," he said.
Monica looked at him. "Yes, it does."
"Where?"
"Near Cold Spring. Old rehabilitation center."
Gable shook his head. "That building was closed ten years ago."
Marco was already searching property records.
Then he stopped.
"Not closed. Sold."
"To who?"
"A Northstar subsidiary."
The plan was bigger than a kidnapping.
They had prepared somewhere to hide the triplets.
A place with medical equipment, private rooms, and no public patients.
A place where forged reports could say anything about their health.
My phone buzzed.
A photo arrived from an unknown number.
Sophie sitting in the safe apartment, coloring at a kitchen table.
Taken less than a minute earlier.
May you like
Under it were six words.
YOU MOVED THE WRONG CHILDREN, ADRIEN.
