Chapter 8 - THE EMPTY ROOM
Luciano raced back with Daniel beside him.
The security gate stood open, and one guard was injured beside the booth.
Luciano ran inside.
“Theo!”
Sofia met him in the foyer.
“He was upstairs with me. I went into the bathroom for maybe two minutes. When I came out, the window was open.”
“The second-floor window?”
“There’s a service balcony.”
“Bernadette?”
“In the library. Says she knows nothing.”
He stormed in.
His mother stood by the fireplace, pale but composed.
“Where is my son?”
“I don’t know.”
“You’re lying.”
“I am not.”
Luciano threw Antonio’s notarized letter onto the desk.
Bernadette looked down.
Her expression broke.
For one second.
That was enough.
“You knew Theo owned this house.”
She sank into a chair.
“Your father was angry at Marcus.”
“He documented theft.”
“Your brother made mistakes.”
“He took my son.”
“I did not know he would do that.”
Luciano grabbed the edge of the desk. “Where would he go?”
Bernadette looked away.
“Mom.”
Nothing.
“Where would he take a seven-year-old boy in the middle of winter?”
Her voice dropped.
“The lake cottage.”
Daniel was already calling police.
Luciano turned for the door.
Bernadette caught his sleeve.
“Wait.”
He looked down at her hand until she released him.
“Marcus has a gun there.”
The room went silent.
Luciano’s face changed.
Bernadette began to cry. “He keeps it in the desk. He said it was for protection.”
Luciano walked out without answering.
Twenty minutes later, state police vehicles were racing behind him toward the frozen lake.
Then his phone buzzed.
A photo arrived from Marcus.
Theo sat in the passenger seat of a car, crying and clutching the wooden locomotive.
Under the picture was one message:
May you like
BRING THE BOX 317 DOCUMENTS ALONE, OR YOU’LL NEVER SEE HIM AGAIN.
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