Chapter 5 - LUCA HAD BEEN WAITING FOR THE FIRST LETTER.
Jessi did not ask her mother to explain immediately.
That was becoming important.
Every time she pushed too hard, her mother began second-guessing herself.
Every time Jessi gave her room, details came back in pieces.
So Jessi made coffee.
Her mother asked for tea.
Then changed her mind and wanted coffee too.
They sat at the little hotel table while morning traffic moved below the window.
"What do you remember about the first envelope?"
Her mother stared into the cup.
"Your brother asked about the mail before breakfast."
"That day specifically?"
"Yes."
"Why do you remember?"
"Because he never asked about mail."
Jessi wrote that down.
Her mother frowned.
"Don't write everything."
"Why?"
"It makes me feel like I'm being interviewed."
Jessi put down the pen.
"Fair."
Her mother gave her a small smile.
Then it vanished.
"He asked if anything came from the bank."
"What did you say?"
"I said I didn't know."
"What happened after that?"
"He checked the foyer table."
"Was the envelope there?"
"I didn't see it."
"Did you ever see it?"
"No."
That mattered.
Mother had not seen the missing envelope.
She only remembered Luca looking for something from the bank.
Jessi had to keep those facts separate.
"What happened next?"
"He got angry with the mailman."
Jessi looked up.
"Why?"
"He said things were going to the wrong places."
"Did you hear him say that?"
"Yes."
"Anything else?"
"He told Wendy he'd fix the addresses."
There was another fact.
Not proof of theft.
But a link.
Jessi checked her phone.
Nine missed calls from Luca.
Three from Wendy.
One voicemail.
She played Luca's message on speaker.
"Jessi, call me. Mom needs medication you don't have. You're putting her at risk because you're angry. Whatever you think you saw, we can talk about it like adults."
Her mother listened.
"Do you need medication?"
"Blood pressure."
"Do you have it?"
"In my purse."
Of course it was.
Jessi called the pharmacy.
The prescription could be replaced.
It would require an insurance override.
That took forty minutes.
Then the pharmacy said the plan showed a recent refill.
Jessi frowned.
"When?"
The pharmacist gave her the date.
"Where was it picked up?"
The family pharmacy near the mansion.
"Can you tell who picked it up?"
"Not without the account authorization."
Jessi thanked her.
Another question.
Not an answer.
She drove to the pharmacy with her mother.
At the counter, the technician recognized her.
"Mrs. —"
She stopped when she saw Jessi.
Her mother smiled nervously.
"I need my pressure medicine."
The technician checked the computer.
"It was picked up six days ago."
"I don't have it."
"I know."
The words came out before the technician seemed to mean to say them.
Jessi looked at her.
"You know?"
The woman lowered her voice.
"Someone from the house usually picks up everything."
"Who?"
"I can't give you someone else's information."
"It's her prescription."
"I understand."
The technician looked at Mother.
Then at the line behind them.
"I can tell you the pickup was authorized on the account."
"By her?"
The woman hesitated.
"I can't answer that."
Jessi felt the familiar surge of frustration.
Money and control had layers.
Accounts.
Authorizations.
Passwords.
Addresses.
People who followed procedure because procedure protected them.
Luca had lived inside those layers for months.
Maybe longer.
Jessi hadn't.
That was about to change.
Back at the hotel, they received a call from the bank's fraud department.
The representative confirmed that the address change had been initiated through Jessi's online banking profile.
"From my login?"
"Yes."
"Can you tell me where?"
"We can preserve the access data, but I can't interpret it for you during this call."
"Was there a password reset?"
A pause.
"Yes."
"When?"
The date was ten days before the first missing envelope.
Jessi stopped breathing for a second.
"How was it verified?"
"Using security questions and an email code."
"My email?"
"The recovery email listed on the profile."
Jessi opened the banking app.
She hadn't logged in for months because the account was connected mainly to old family assets.
She checked the recovery details.
The email address was unfamiliar.
Not completely unfamiliar.
It used the domain of the family management company Luca ran.
Jessi stared at it.
Her mother saw her face.
"What?"
"My recovery email was changed."
"To what?"
"The family office."
Her mother closed her eyes.
"Your father hated that office."
"Why?"
"He said Luca wanted every piece of paper going through one place."
Jessi looked at the eleven envelopes again.
The first envelope was missing.
Her mailing address had been changed.
Her recovery email had been changed.
And Luca had apparently been waiting for a bank letter.
Still, Jessi forced herself to say the careful version out loud.
"This doesn't prove Luca did it."
Her mother looked surprised.
"You don't believe me?"
"I believe you."
"Then why—"
"Because believing you and proving what happened are different things."
Her mother looked away.
Jessi softened her voice.
"And if we're going to stop him, I don't want him knocking this down because we jumped too fast."
That got her mother's attention.
"Stop him from what?"
Jessi reached into her coat and removed the brass key.
Her mother stared at it.
"From whatever Dad was afraid he'd do."
Her mother's fingers tightened around her coffee cup.
"The box."
Jessi leaned forward.
"What box?"
"Your father's document box."
"Where?"
"In his study."
"At the mansion?"
She nodded.
"Does Luca know?"
"He knows the box exists."
"Does he know about the key?"
Her mother shook her head.
"Your father gave it to me."
"When?"
"Near the end."
Again, Jessi had to resist filling in details her mother hadn't said.
"What's inside?"
"I don't know."
"You've never opened it?"
"No."
"Why not?"
"Your father told me not to unless Luca tried to take control of everything."
Jessi turned the old key in her fingers.
"What does 'everything' mean?"
Her mother stared toward the window.
"The house."
A pause.
"The accounts."
Another pause.
"And me."
Jessi's skin went cold.
Then someone knocked on the hotel door.
Three hard knocks.
Her mother spilled coffee onto the saucer.
Jessi stood.
"Stay here."
She crossed the room and looked through the peephole.
May you like
Luca was standing in the hallway.
And in his hand was their mother's missing purse.
