Chapter 4 - The Fourth Chair at the Table
Sunday breakfast had been sacred in Falcone Manor.
Roman remembered that much.
No bodyguards in the kitchen.
No father barking orders.
No business.
Sofia cooked.
Three boys argued.
A fourth chair remained empty.
If one of them moved it, she put it back.
When Declan once asked who it was for, their mother answered:
Someone who may need a place.
They had assumed she meant a guest.
Now Maeve stood in the same kitchen holding Kathleen’s photograph.
“The fourth chair was for my mother?”
Roman shook his head.
“I don’t know.”
Mrs. Hess did.
They found her at noon.
Not missing.
Hiding.
Gabriel traced a gas-station purchase to a motel twenty miles inland.
Roman wanted to go with six security men.
Maeve said no.
He looked at her.
“You are becoming repetitive.”
“So are you.”
They compromised on Marco and one car.
Mrs. Hess opened the motel door wearing yesterday’s gray skirt and no shoes.
When she saw Maeve, she started crying.
Maeve did not comfort her.
Not yet.
“You knew who I was.”
“Yes.”
“You sent the agency for me.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
Hess looked at Roman.
“Because Sofia told me to.”
Roman went still.
“My mother has been dead fourteen years.”
“She left instructions.”
“When?”
“The week before she died.”
Hess sat on the bed.
Her hands trembled.
“Sofia believed someone inside the family was stealing from a medical trust she had created with Kathleen.”
Maeve frowned.
“With Kathleen?”
“Yes.”
“It wasn’t charity.”
“No.”
Hess looked at Maeve.
“Your mother saved those boys.”
Declan’s expression changed.
“When?”
“You were nine.”
None of them spoke.
Hess continued.
“There was an attempted kidnapping during a summer trip. Kathleen drove the three of you through a service gate while shots were being fired. Sofia never forgot it.”
Roman remembered fragments.
A woman shouting.
His brothers on the floor of a station wagon.
Kathleen’s hands white around a steering wheel.
He had been told one of his father’s drivers saved them.
His father had rewritten that too.
Hess said, “Sofia wanted Kathleen’s girls protected if anything happened.”
Maeve whispered, “Why did Mom never tell us?”
“Because after Sofia died, everything changed.”
Hess looked at the brothers.
“Your father accused Kathleen before the body was cold.”
Roman’s face hardened.
“He had evidence.”
“No.”
Hess shook her head.
“He had a story.”
Declan stepped closer.
“What did you see?”
“Sofia became ill after tea. Kathleen called the doctor. Your father’s private physician arrived before emergency services.”
Gabriel frowned.
“Why?”
“Because Vittorio called him.”
Silence.
Maeve looked at Hess.
“Uncle Vittorio was there?”
“Yes.”
Roman’s eyes narrowed.
“Our father’s report says he was in New York.”
“He arrived through the service road.”
Hess began crying again.
“I saw his car.”
“Did you tell our father?”
“Yes.”
“What happened?”
“He told me grief was confusing me.”
Roman laughed once.
Bitterly.
The same tactic.
Make the witness doubt herself.
Hess continued.
“Kathleen found something in Sofia’s tea service. A residue. She put the cup and a small bottle into the pantry cavity.”
“The one behind the biscuit tin?”
“Yes.”
Maeve’s heartbeat quickened.
“It was empty when we opened it.”
“I know.”
“Who took it?”
Hess looked ashamed.
“I did.”
Everyone moved at once.
Roman’s voice dropped.
“Where is it?”
“Safe.”
“Why?”
“Because someone searched the pantry last month.”
Maeve stared.
“Who?”
“Elliot Vale.”
Vittorio’s investigator.
Hess looked at Maeve.
“That’s when I knew he was still afraid of whatever Kathleen left behind.”
Roman stepped closer.
“You had evidence for fourteen years.”
“No.”
“Then what?”
“I had a key.”
She opened her briefcase.
From a hidden seam, she removed a small brass key.
Not to a house.
To a safe-deposit box.
Maeve reached for it.
Hess held on.
“There is one more thing.”
“What?”
“The box is not in Sofia’s name.”
“Whose?”
“Kathleen Donnelly.”
Maeve took the key.
Her hand shook.
Roman watched her.
For fourteen years, his family had spoken Kathleen’s name as if it meant betrayal.
Now every hidden thing seemed to carry her name instead.
Maeve looked at Mrs. Hess.
“Why wait until now?”
Hess wiped her face.
“Because Sofia’s instructions said never open the box unless Kathleen returned or one of her daughters entered the house.”
Maeve looked toward Roman.
“Breakfast.”
He nodded.
Hess gave a broken smile.
“Forty-eight hours.”
“What?”
“She told me Kathleen’s daughter would never leave before breakfast on the third day.”
Maeve stared.
“How could she know that?”
Hess looked at the three brothers.
“Because Kathleen was the only person who ever lasted in this house by refusing to be afraid of them.”
Declan looked offended.
“We were nine.”
Hess gave him a look.
“You were awful at nine too.”
Maeve laughed before she could stop herself.
For one second, even Roman smiled.
May you like
Then the brass key caught the motel light.
And everyone remembered why they were there.
