Chapter 5: # CHAPTER 5: The Man Who Certified the D\*\*d
Dr.
Calvin Rusk had retired three weeks after Isabella's funeral.
His practice — a private dental office on the Upper East Side that had served the DeLuca family for eleven years — had been sold to a group practice.
His forwarding address was a condominium complex in Sarasota, Florida.
He had left no announcement.
No farewell letter to patients.
No explanation.
Lorenzo had not noticed at the time.
He noticed now.
Mason had the address by morning.
Rachel had it by afternoon, through different channels and with a warrant already in motion.
She called Lorenzo at four p.m.
"I'm flying to Sarasota tomorrow."
"I know."
A pause.
"How do you know?"
"Because you're thorough."
"Don't have anyone there before me."
"I won't."
"I mean it."
"Rachel." His voice was quiet.
"If Rusk falsified the dental records that identified the body as Isabella, he's the reason I buried a stranger.
I want him in a courtroom, not in a river.
You have my word."
She was quiet for a moment.
Then: "The DNA results came back."
Lorenzo's hand tightened on the phone.
"The bl\*\*d from the warehouse is female.
The comparison to Isabella's medical records shows a strong match.
Legally and scientifically sufficient to reopen the death investigation as a potential false identification."
The room tilted slightly.
"She's alive."
"The bl\*\*d indicates she was alive within the last seventy-two hours.
That is what I can say officially." Rachel's voice softened by a fraction.
"We are now treating this as an active missing-persons and potential kjdnapping investigation.
That changes what I can do and how fast I can do it."
"What do you need from me?"
"Everything you have on Vincent Moreau's access to estate security, Isabella's travel schedule, and the North Pier vendor files.
Formally.
Through your lawyer."
"You'll have it by morning."
"And Lorenzo — the body in the casket.
We're exhuming."
He had known it was coming.
Knowing didn't make it easier.
"Her family will need to be notified."
"We're working on identification through other means first.
I'll handle notification when we have a name." A pause.
"You didn't know her."
"No."
"Someone did."
He said nothing.
Rachel hung up.
Lorenzo sat in the study until the fire burned low.
He didn't refill the whiskey glass.
He looked at the photograph on the desk — Isabella laughing, one hand up against the sun — and tried to hold the two things at once.
She was alive.
And someone in this city had spent two months making sure he believed she wasn't.
The intercom clicked.
"Mr.
DeLuca." It was the overnight security desk.
"Mr.
Moreau is at the gate.
He says he heard there were developments in Mrs.
DeLuca's case and wants to speak with you."
Lorenzo looked at the intercom panel.
Vincent.
Here.
Tonight.
Either he was panicking because something had leaked — or he was here to find out exactly how much Lorenzo knew.
Lorenzo pressed the button.
"Tell him I'm not available."
A pause.
Then: "He says it's urgent, sir.
He says — " A brief silence.
"He says he has information about what really happened to Isabella."
Lorenzo's jaw tightened.
He pressed the button again.
May you like
"Let him in."
* * *
