Chapter 2 - The Body at the Boathouse
The old Ferraro boathouse had been closed for almost ten years.
Luca had never liked it.
The building sat beyond the main gardens, half-hidden behind a line of cedar trees, with weathered docks stretching over a narrow inlet of Narragansett Bay. The Ferraros no longer used it for boats. Too many memories were attached to it.
Luca remembered his father smoking cigars there.
He remembered childhood summers.
He remembered Vivienne laughing beside him when they were thirteen.
He remembered his grandmother telling them both never to play near the water after dark.
Now police tape crossed the entrance.
Two officers waited beneath the porch.
A third stood near the dock.
Luca stepped out of the SUV.
“Where is she?”
The officer looked at him.
“Mr. Ferraro?”
“Yes.”
“I need you to stay back.”
Luca ignored the instruction for half a second before stopping.
“Is she dead?”
“Yes.”
Nora covered her mouth.
Luca stared at the building.
“When?”
“We're estimating sometime between midnight and three this morning.”
His stomach dropped.
Three forty-one.
The time Claire left.
The timeline intersected.
“Was my fiancée here?”
The officer did not answer immediately.
“That is what we're trying to determine.”
Luca's jaw tightened.
“What does that mean?”
“We found an object belonging to her near the dock.”
The officer held up a clear evidence bag.
Inside was Claire's brown leather glove.
Luca went still.
“She was here?”
“We don't know.”
His security chief whispered, “Sir, that's impossible. We tracked her route to the station.”
“Did you?”
The question came from Nora.
Everyone looked at her.
She pointed at the glove.
“How certain are you that it's hers?”
The officer frowned.
“Are you saying it isn't?”
“No.”
Nora looked at Luca.
“I'm saying Claire doesn't wear gloves in September.”
Luca remembered.
She hated them.
Always had.
She complained they made her hands sweat.
The police officer stared at the bag.
“Then perhaps someone wanted us to think it belonged to her.”
Luca felt a chill.
He turned toward the estate.
“Search the house again.”
His security chief nodded.
The investigation expanded.
Claire's room.
Her car.
The guest rooms.
The library.
Every camera.
Every exit.
Then, near noon, another piece of evidence surfaced.
A surveillance camera from a neighboring property had captured someone walking toward the boathouse at 1:17 a.m.
The image was blurry.
But it was a woman.
Long coat.
Dark hair.
One suitcase.
Luca watched the footage twice.
“That is Claire.”
Nora shook her head.
“Maybe.”
Luca looked closer.
The suitcase was wrong.
Claire's suitcase had a broken leather handle.
This one didn't.
“Zoom.”
The image enlarged.
The person was too far away to identify.
But something was visible in her right hand.
A small black object.
Luca recognized it.
Claire's antique camera.
She carried it everywhere.
Why would she take photographs at the boathouse in the middle of the night?
Unless she wasn't there by choice.
Then another video appeared.
This one from an intersection near the station.
A black sedan.
No plate visible.
The driver had apparently followed Claire.
Luca stared at the screen.
“Who owns that car?”
“We're checking.”
Nora looked at him.
“Luca.”
He didn't answer.
“I think Claire was investigating something.”
“I know.”
“And Vivienne is dead.”
“I know.”
“What did Claire mean by ‘find out what they know’?”
Luca's mind returned to the envelope he had discovered after the note.
The one addressed to him.
The one Claire had apparently found.
He went back to the library.
He searched the desk.
Nothing.
Then he noticed a faint scratch beneath the bottom drawer.
A hidden compartment.
He opened it.
Inside was a thin folder.
The first document was dated eighteen years earlier.
The second ten years earlier.
The third six months earlier.
At the top of every page was the same name.
Ferraro Maritime Holdings.
Luca's face changed.
The family had always been involved in shipping and property.
But these documents showed something else.
Payments.
Offshore transfers.
Names.
Shell companies.
One recipient appeared repeatedly.
V. Russo.
Luca stared.
Vivienne.
He flipped the page.
Then another.
Vivienne had been receiving money from Ferraro accounts for years.
Why?
He kept reading.
The next page contained a handwritten note from his father.
Keep her close.
She knows too much.
Luca's breathing slowed.
His father had died two years earlier.
But these documents were still active.
And the final page carried a recent date.
Three weeks ago.
Someone had written:
Claire is asking questions.
Luca froze.
The floor seemed to disappear beneath him.
His mother entered.
“Luca?”
He turned.
“Did you know?”
Teresa saw the folder.
Her face changed.
“What did you find?”
“Did you know?”
She approached cautiously.
“About what?”
“This.”
He held up the payment records.
Teresa sat down.
For several seconds, she said nothing.
Then she whispered,
“Your father promised it would end.”
Luca felt sick.
“What would end?”
“The payments.”
“To Vivienne?”
“Yes.”
“Why was she being paid?”
Teresa looked toward the window.
“Because your father was afraid of her.”
“Why?”
“She had proof.”
“Proof of what?”
Teresa hesitated.
Then she looked directly at her son.
“Your father was involved in something years ago that could have destroyed this family.”
“What?”
“I don't know all of it.”
“You're lying.”
“No.”
“You knew enough.”
Teresa's eyes filled.
“I knew your father had people handling things he didn't want traced.”
“That is not an answer.”
“It is the only answer I have.”
Luca slammed the folder onto the desk.
“What happened to Vivienne?”
“I don't know.”
“Did Dad have her killed?”
Teresa recoiled.
“No.”
“Then who?”
“I don't know.”
A phone rang.
The security chief.
“Mr. Ferraro.”
“What?”
“We recovered Claire's camera.”
“Where?”
“At the boathouse.”
Luca's heart raced.
“Is there anything on it?”
“Yes.”
“What?”
“A recording.”
The camera contained a video.
Claire's face appeared on screen.
She was inside the boathouse.
Alive.
Her hair was pulled back.
Her face looked frightened.
She spoke directly into the camera.
“If you're seeing this, something has gone wrong.”
Luca stepped closer to the screen.
Claire continued.
“I don't know who I can trust anymore.”
She swallowed.
“But I know this.”
“There is a reason your father was paying Vivienne.”
Luca's blood ran cold.
Claire continued.
“And the reason has nothing to do with their business.”
The recording ended.
Nora whispered,
“What does that mean?”
Luca stared at the black screen.
Then another file appeared.
A second recording.
This one showed Vivienne.
Alive.
And furious.
She was standing directly in front of Claire.
“You should never have come here.”
Claire answered,
“I need the truth.”
“You have no idea what you're asking.”
“Yes, I do.”
Vivienne stepped closer.
“You think Luca is the problem.”
Claire said nothing.
Vivienne's face softened.
“He isn't.”
“What?”
“He doesn't know.”
Claire stared.
“Know what?”
Vivienne looked toward the camera.
May you like
Then whispered,
“Who your father really was.”
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