Chapter 5 - Vincent DeLuca
Vincent DeLuca had been Julian’s father’s older brother.
He had been charming.
Educated.
Patient.
And dangerous.
For years, Julian had thought Vincent was the uncle who brought gifts to Christmas.
He had never imagined him as the man behind Claire’s disappearance.
Marco arrived with a file.
“We found something.”
Julian opened it.
Vincent had not died overseas.
His passport had been used in Montreal eight months after his supposed death.
Then Prague.
Then Miami.
Then Chicago.
Always one step ahead.
Julian looked up.
“Why didn't anyone find this?”
Marco gave him a grim smile.
“Someone paid to keep the records buried.”
Julian looked toward Nora.
She was holding Lily.
The child was awake now.
She was coloring on the back of an old receipt.
Julian walked over.
“Lily.”
She looked up.
“Yes?”
“Do you remember a man?”
She thought for a moment.
“He had a bird.”
“What kind?”
“A black bird.”
“Did he talk to your mother?”
Lily nodded.
“He made Mama cry.”
Nora closed her eyes.
Julian felt his stomach tighten.
“What did he call her?”
Lily frowned.
“Claire.”
Julian almost stopped breathing.
She knew the name.
“Where did he take her?”
Lily looked at the drawing in her lap.
Then she pointed toward the house.
“Downstairs.”
Julian’s eyes narrowed.
“There is no downstairs room.”
Lily smiled faintly.
“There is.”
She turned the paper around.
She had drawn a crooked staircase.
At the bottom was a blue door.
May you like
And beside it stood a little black bird.
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