Chapter 7: # CHAPTER 7: Anthony
The leak inside Rachel's department took four days to identify.
A junior records clerk who had processed the original death investigation paperwork.
Paid in cash.
Three payments over two months, the last one the day after Rachel pulled the freight district warrant.
He cooperated immediately when confronted.
He hadn't known what the information was for.
He had needed money.
He had told himself it was harmless.
Rachel told Lorenzo this in a flat voice that made clear she was not inviting commentary.
"He's been suspended pending charges.
The breach has been contained."
"How contained?"
"Vincent knows we pulled the warrant.
He doesn't know about the DNA results.
He doesn't know about the camera footage.
He doesn't know we've identified the financial connection to Castellan." She paused.
"He thinks he's still ahead of this."
"Good."
"Don't do anything to change that."
Lorenzo said nothing.
"I mean it."
"I heard you."
The investigation moved faster after that.
Rachel's team identified the gray SUV from Sophia's description — a Chevrolet Suburban registered to a Moretti Global subsidiary, assigned to executive operations, logged out the evening of Isabella's crash and returned the following morning with forty-three miles unaccounted for.
The driver log listed the vehicle as unused that night.
Someone had altered it.
The alteration used Vincent's executive credentials.
Then a veterinary clinic in Queens surfaced in the search.
A black Cane Corso, emaciated, cut paw, brought in six weeks after the crash by a man who claimed the dog was a stray and left before registration was completed.
The clinic's camera footage had survived.
Mason recognized the man in the baseball cap before Rachel's team did.
Anthony Bell.
Former Moretti Global security contractor.
Fired three years earlier for selling internal information to a competitor.
Rachel found him in a rented room in the Bronx.
He ran when he saw her team coming.
Two blocks.
Then he stopped, put his hands up, and sat down on the curb like a man who had been waiting for this moment and was tired of waiting.
Lorenzo was not in the room when Anthony talked.
Mason was.
He called Lorenzo afterward and read from his notes in a steady voice.
Anthony had been hired to move Isabella after the crash.
He claimed he didn't know the original plan — only that he was told to intercept her near the warehouse where she had planned to meet someone, transport her to a farmhouse outside Kingston, and hold her until further instruction.
"He says he didn't know the car would go over the ravine."
"Do you believe him?"
"No.
But I believe he's telling us what he knows, which is different."
"What happened at the farmhouse?"
"She was there approximately three weeks.
Then one night during a transfer between rooms, she broke a bathroom window.
Escaped into the woods with Bruno."
Lorenzo closed his eyes briefly.
"She had a broken rib at that point," Mason continued.
"Untreated.
She'd been restrained.
She was — " He paused.
"Anthony said she was in bad shape when she left.
He didn't expect her to survive the first night."
"But she did."
"She did."
"Who gave Anthony his orders?"
Mason was quiet for a moment.
"He says Vincent."
The word sat in the room.
Lorenzo had known it was coming.
He had known since the PORT FILES, since the dental records, since the Castellan payments.
He had built the case brick by brick in his mind and each brick had pointed the same direction.
Knowing didn't make the word smaller.
Twenty-two years.
"He'll testify?"
"He's asking for a deal.
Rachel's team is working it."
"What does he want?"
"Reduced charges.
Relocation.
He says he has documentation — payments from a shell account, burner phone records, a farmhouse rental tied to a Moretti vendor."
Lorenzo stood at the window.
The garden.
The bench.
The east wall.
"Tell Rachel whatever Anthony needs to testify truthfully, she has my full cooperation."
"There's one more thing."
"Say it."
Mason's voice dropped slightly.
"Anthony says they told Isabella something when they took her.
To keep her from contacting you."
"What did they tell her?"
"That if she reached out to you — through any channel — Sophia Walker and Emma would be h*rt first."
The silence that followed was complete.
Lorenzo stood very still.
Sophia.
Emma.
A three-year-old girl with a stuffed rabbit who had walked into his study and handed him back his wife.
Isabella had stayed hidden to protect them.
She hadn't called because she was afraid for a child who brought Bruno pieces of biscuit from the kitchen.
He set the phone down on the desk.
Picked it up again.
"Mason."
"Yes."
"Double the security on Sophia and Emma.
Tonight.
Don't tell them why.
Just make sure."
"Already done."
Of course it was.
Lorenzo looked at the photograph on his desk.
Isabella laughing.
One hand up against the sun.
*I'm coming*, he thought.
*Stay where you are.
May you like
I'm coming.*
* * *
