Chapter 2 - The Ring Had Not Been Sold by Any Estate Dealer, and the Hand-Carved Star Matched a Symbol I Had Seen in Sofia's Locked BedroomI didn't confront Vivienne again that night.
Not immediately.
I had learned a long time ago that frightened people talked too much and guilty people sometimes talked even more.
Vivienne was neither.
She was controlled.
Too controlled.
That meant she either had nothing to hide or had spent considerable time preparing for someone to ask questions.
I ordered a private search of the ring.
No police.
No public records.
Just my people and one jeweler I had trusted for fifteen years.
The jeweler arrived before midnight.
He examined the band under magnification.
“Platinum.”
“Yes.”
“Old.”
“How old?”
“At least thirty years. Maybe more.”
He turned it under a light.
“There’s a tiny engraving.”
I leaned forward.
The star.
Five uneven points.
One line slightly longer than the others.
“Handmade?”
He nodded.
“Definitely.”
“Can you tell me who made it?”
“Not from this.”
I took the ring from him.
“You said it was from an estate dealer?”
I looked at Vivienne.
She hadn't left.
She stood near the fireplace, arms crossed.
“Yes.”
“Which dealer?”
“Someone in Manhattan.”
“Name?”
“Richard Bell.”
I handed Marco a note.
“Find Richard Bell.”
He returned twenty minutes later.
“No Richard Bell owns a jewelry business in Manhattan.”
Vivienne's expression changed.
“There is an antique dealer by that name in Connecticut.”
Marco shook his head.
“Closed three years ago.”
I looked at Vivienne.
“You lied.”
She stared back.
“I didn't.”
“Then you were lied to.”
She didn't answer.
I placed the ring on the table.
“You have one chance to tell me where it came from.”
She sighed.
“I found it.”
“Where?”
“In a safe deposit box.”
“Whose?”
“My father's.”
“Your father died when you were young.”
“Yes.”
“Then why didn't you tell me?”
“Because I thought you wouldn't understand.”
I stared.
“What is there to understand?”
“Your family.”
I leaned forward.
“You've been wearing a dead employee's ring to my engagement dinner.”
“She wasn't just your employee.”
My chest tightened.
“What does that mean?”
Vivienne looked toward Rosie.
“She knew things.”
“What things?”
“She knew what your family was doing.”
That was the first direct confirmation.
Sofia had not died because of a random stroke.
She had known something.
I thought about the ring.
The star.
The box.
The date.
“Did your father know Sofia?”
“Yes.”
“How?”
“He bought property from your family.”
“That doesn't explain anything.”
Vivienne looked exhausted.
“You really don't know.”
“No.”
“And if I tell you, you might stop trusting everyone.”
“I already stopped.”
That made her laugh quietly.
“Good.”
She reached toward the ring.
“May I?”
I allowed it.
She removed it.
Then turned the band.
The star was visible.
“I've seen this before.”
“Where?”
“On documents.”
“What documents?”
“Old ones.”
I waited.
She sighed.
“My father belonged to a group.”
“What group?”
She looked at me.
“The Bellmont Circle.”
The name meant nothing to me.
But the expression on Marco's face said it meant something to him.
I looked at him.
“What is it?”
“An old financial network.”
“Criminal?”
“Officially, no.”
“Unofficially?”
He hesitated.
“Not sure.”
Vivienne continued.
“Their symbol was a five-pointed star.”
I looked at the ring.
“So Sofia was part of it?”
“I don't know.”
“Then why was the star on her ring?”
“Maybe she wasn't.”
I frowned.
“What do you mean?”
“The star might have belonged to someone else.”
I thought about the wooden box.
Sofia had hidden it.
Rosie said her mother had cried while doing it.
That meant the ring mattered.
Not emotionally.
Strategically.
I returned to Sofia's old bedroom.
It was still mostly untouched.
Rosie entered behind me.
She walked straight to a small cabinet.
“This.”
She pointed.
I opened it.
Nothing.
Then she tapped the back wall.
“Mommy put it here.”
I removed the drawers.
Behind the wood was a narrow compartment.
Inside was an envelope.
My name was written on it.
DAMIAN.
My hand shook.
I opened it.
Inside was one sentence.
If Rosie tells you about the star, believe her.
I stared.
Then a second line.
Vivienne is not the person you should fear.
I looked toward the doorway.
Vivienne was standing there.
She had followed me.
For the first time that night, she looked genuinely frightened.
I raised the letter.
“You knew.”
She shook her head.
“No.”
“Then why are you here?”
She stared at Rosie.
May you like
“Because I think Sofia knew she was going to die.”
That sentence changed everything.
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