Chapter 2 - THE LITTLE GOLD CLOCK
By midnight, Dominic Moretti’s estate no longer looked like the site of an eight-year-old’s birthday party.
The string quartet was gone.
The champagne had been removed.
Security men stood at every exit.
The kitchen staff had been separated into different rooms and told not to speak to one another until police arrived.
And upstairs, Ethan sat in his pajamas between Dr. Harris and Sophia Carter, staring at a plate of crackers as though food itself had betrayed him.
“I’m not hungry.”
Sophia did not push.
“Okay.”
“Is everything poisoned?”
Her heart broke.
“No.”
“How do you know?”
That question silenced her.
Dr. Harris answered gently.
“Because I opened this package myself.”
Ethan looked at him.
“Can I watch you open the next one?”
“Yes.”
“Every time?”
“For as long as you need.”
Only then did Ethan take a cracker.
Lily sat beside him swinging her white sneakers above the floor.
She seemed less frightened than everyone else, perhaps because at three years old she did not yet understand how close the night had come to becoming a funeral.
She only understood one fact.
Ethan had almost eaten something bad.
She stopped him.
Therefore, problem solved.
Downstairs, Dominic did not feel anything had been solved.
He stood inside the cold preparation room where Lily said she had seen the stranger.
The destroyed cake had been moved into sealed evidence containers.
Police technicians worked beside the stainless-steel counter.
Rocco DeSantis, Dominic’s head of personal security, stood near the door.
“How long was the camera down?”
“Eleven minutes.”
“Accident?”
“No.”
Rocco held out a tablet.
“Someone used an internal administrator override.”
Dominic looked at the code.
M-4.
“Who has that level?”
“You. Me. Miles Corbin.”
Dominic’s eyes narrowed.
Miles was chief of estate security.
Former Marine.
Eleven years with the Moretti family.
The man had personally redesigned every camera route after Ethan’s mother died.
“Where is Miles?”
“Control room.”
“Keep him there.”
Rocco nodded.
Dominic looked at the frosted countertop.
“Who knew the cake would be brought into this room?”
“Pastry staff. Mrs. Carter. Henderson from catering. Dr. Harris because of allergy protocol.”
“And family.”
“Yes.”
Anyone planning to murder Ethan had not guessed at his allergy.
They knew.
That shortened the list.
Not enough.
A technician approached.
“Mr. Moretti?”
Dominic turned.
“We found traces of the allergen on one section of frosting only.”
“Meaning?”
“It wasn’t contamination during preparation.”
Dominic already knew.
“Someone applied it after the cake was finished.”
“Yes.”
“How concentrated?”
The technician hesitated.
“Deliberate.”
Dominic stared at the cake.
His son’s name was still written across the surviving portion in blue sugar.
ETHAN — 8.
Someone had looked at those letters and decided the child beneath them should die.
Dominic’s voice became very quiet.
“Find out who.”
The technician looked uncomfortable.
“We’ll do our job.”
Rocco waited until the man walked away.
Then:
“You want me to handle this outside the police?”
Dominic looked at him.
Ten years earlier, the answer would have been immediate.
Yes.
Find the man.
Bring him somewhere private.
But upstairs was an eight-year-old already learning that adults could turn normal things into danger.
“No.”
Rocco’s eyebrows lifted.
“Not yet.”
That sounded more like Dominic.
“Evidence first.”
Rocco nodded.
“Good.”
Dominic went upstairs.
Sophia was tucking a blanket around Lily on the sofa.
“Mrs. Carter.”
She stood.
“Yes, sir?”
“I need to speak with Lily again.”
Sophia’s expression tightened.
“She already told security everything.”
“I know.”
“She’s three.”
“I know.”
“Then don’t interrogate her.”
Dominic stopped.
Few employees spoke to him that way.
Fewer twice.
Sophia seemed to realize what she had done.
Her shoulders stiffened.
But she did not apologize.
Good.
Dominic lowered himself onto the floor several feet from Lily.
No looming.
No pressure.
“Lily.”
She looked over.
“Hi.”
“What was the man wearing?”
Sophia sat beside her daughter.
Lily frowned.
“Black.”
“Like my jacket?”
“No.”
“Like Rocco?”
She looked at Rocco standing in the doorway.
“Little bit.”
“Did you see his face?”
“No.”
“Why?”
“He had hat.”
“What kind?”
She put both hands near her forehead.
“Low.”
“A cap?”
“Yes.”
Dominic nodded.
“Anything else?”
Lily thought.
Sophia said softly:
“You don’t have to remember, sweetheart.”
“I remember his clock.”
Dominic went still.
“What clock?”
Lily pointed toward Dominic’s wrist.
“Like that.”
His watch.
“A wristwatch?”
She nodded.
“Little gold one.”
“How little?”
She brought thumb and finger close together.
“Baby clock.”
Sophia smiled faintly despite the tension.
Dominic did not.
Because a memory had surfaced.
“Did it have anything on it?”
Lily concentrated so hard her eyebrows pulled together.
“A blue thing.”
“What blue thing?”
“Star.”
Dominic stopped breathing.
Rocco looked at him.
He knew too.
Sophia noticed.
“What?”
Dominic stood.
“Stay with the children.”
“What is it?”
He hesitated.
Then realized Sophia had earned more truth than almost anyone in the house tonight.
“My late wife’s family owned a watch.”
Sophia frowned.
“A watch?”
“An antique gold watch. Smaller than modern ones.”
He looked toward Lily.
“Blue enamel star on the crown.”
Rocco said:
“There are photographs.”
Sophia looked between them.
“Who owns it?”
Dominic’s jaw tightened.
“My wife’s brother.”
Sebastian Vale.
Ethan’s godfather.
Trustee of the inheritance Elena Moretti had left her son.
And a man Dominic had known for sixteen years.
Sophia whispered:
“Was he here tonight?”
“Yes.”
“In the ballroom?”
“Yes.”
“When did he leave?”
Dominic looked at Rocco.
Rocco checked the departure log.
Then his expression changed.
“Ten fifty-one.”
“What time did Lily see the man?”
“Cake moved into the cold room at ten twenty-eight. Camera disabled ten thirty-three to ten forty-four.”
Dominic looked toward the hallway.
Sebastian had left seven minutes after the camera came back online.
Sophia swallowed.
“That doesn’t prove it was him.”
“No.”
Dominic appreciated that.
Evidence.
Not fear.
Then Lily suddenly jumped down from the sofa.
“Wait.”
She ran toward the small side table where Sophia had left her crayons and the paper children had used during the party.
“Lily?”
The toddler began drawing.
Circle.
Two lines.
A badly shaped wrist.
Then a tiny yellow circle.
Blue mark.
She added another detail.
A black line hanging from it.
Dominic crouched.
“What’s that?”
“String.”
Rocco looked confused.
“String?”
Lily nodded.
“The clock was hanging.”
Dominic’s pulse changed.
Not a wristwatch.
A watch on a chain.
Sebastian did not wear the old Vale watch on his wrist.
He wore it from a short black leather chain inside his vest pocket.
Always.
Because the band had broken years ago.
Dominic had teased him about it at Elena’s funeral.
The memory hit with sickening clarity.
Sebastian beside Elena’s grave.
Black coat.
That tiny gold watch hanging against his vest.
Lily pointed at her drawing.
“The man put it back here.”
She touched her chest.
Dominic closed his eyes for one second.
When he opened them, Ethan was standing in the bedroom doorway.
He had heard.
“Uncle Sebastian?”
Nobody answered.
Ethan’s face changed.
“He asked me something tonight.”
Dominic stood.
“What?”
“Before cake.”
“What did he ask?”
Ethan looked frightened.
“He asked if Mom ever told me about my birthday account.”
Dominic’s blood went cold.
“What birthday account?”
Ethan shrugged.
“The money she left me.”
Sophia looked at Dominic.
He had no idea what his son meant.
That was bad enough.
Then Rocco’s phone buzzed.
He read the message.
“Dominic.”
“What?”
“Sebastian’s attorney just emailed your office.”
“At midnight?”
“Yes.”
Rocco’s eyes hardened.
“He’s requesting an emergency meeting tomorrow morning concerning the Elena Vale Moretti Family Trust.”
Dominic stared.
“Why?”
Rocco looked at Ethan.
“Because according to the trust language, Sebastian’s authority as sole managing trustee ended tonight.”
Midnight.
Ethan’s eighth birthday.
Control of his mother’s fortune had just transferred away from Sebastian Vale.
May you like
And somebody had tried to make sure Ethan did not live long enough for that to happen.
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