Chapter 2 - THE WIFE NO ONE KNEW EXISTED
For several seconds, I thought the concussion had confused her.
“My brother never married.”
“He did.”
“No.”
“He married me.”
Delia reached toward the drawer beside her hospital bed.
Her injured hand trembled.
I opened it for her.
Inside was an old leather wallet.
She removed a photograph.
Ewan stood outside a courthouse.
His hair was too long.
His tie was crooked.
And beside him stood Delia.
Younger.
Smiling.
Ewan had one arm around her waist.
Both of them were holding up their left hands.
Wedding bands.
On the back was a date.
March 11.
Six years earlier.
Twenty-three days before the Pier 44 fire.
My throat tightened.
“Why didn’t he tell me?”
“He was going to.”
Delia’s eyes dropped.
“But first he wanted proof.”
“Proof of what?”
“That Pier 44 wasn’t just being used by your family.”
I leaned forward.
“What does that mean?”
“Ewan discovered someone outside the Moretti organization was using your shipping companies to move money through shell corporations.”
I felt something cold settle in my chest.
“Who?”
“The Vandermarks.”
Celeste’s family.
Delia continued.
“Ewan believed Victor Vandermark was buying influence inside your company.”
“My father worked with Victor.”
“Your father trusted him.”
“That’s not the same thing.”
“No.”
Delia looked directly at me.
“And Ewan knew it.”
She told me about a storage locker Ewan rented under another name.
He kept copies of documents there.
Bank transfers.
Dock schedules.
Insurance records.
One week before the fire, he gave Delia a brass key.
“He told me if anything happened to him, I should disappear.”
“You disappeared for four years?”
“Almost.”
“Then why come into my house?”
Her expression changed.
“Because your mother found me.”
My mother had suffered a devastating stroke four years earlier.
She could hear.
She could understand.
But she had lost almost all ability to speak.
“How?”
“She sent a lawyer.”
“What lawyer?”
“Someone named Miriam Shaw.”
The name was familiar.
Miriam had handled family estate matters for decades.
“She told me your mother knew about Ewan and me.”
I stood.
“Why did no one tell me?”
“Because your mother didn’t trust the people around you.”
That sentence landed harder than anything else.
“My own mother?”
“She trusted you.”
Delia paused.
“She didn’t trust your circle.”
Before leaving, I asked one final question.
“Why did Celeste attack you?”
Delia stared at the blanket.
“She found me in your mother’s room with something that belonged to Ewan.”
“What?”
“A key.”
“The storage key?”
“No.”
She looked up.
“A different one.”
I waited.
May you like
Delia whispered.
“The key to your cellar.”
