There was a beat, and then he whispered back. “Yes.”
Kenzi never believed Christian. She never wanted to kill me.
“She loves you very much, Ava.” Matthias voiced my thoughts. “Kenzi hated that we didn’t bring you in on the plan.”
“Why didn’t you?” I asked.
“Because you needed a push,” he admitted. “You’ve always been someone’s pawn. I wanted you to become your own person. Even if I told you about our plan, I could have easily made you the queen of my empire, but if you knew I was there, behind the scenes, you would have never taken it into your own hands. You would have questioned every decision and leaned on me for support. I didn’t want that, and it wasn’t something you needed. What you needed was to be pushed out of your comfort zone.”
“I might have gone a little overboard.” I shrugged my shoulder shyly, glad the dim lights hid the flush that crept up my cheeks.
“Oh, I’ve heard everything about you, my little psycho.” There was a smile in his voice. “It was a turn on hearing about your little exploits. My hand and I were very busy imagining all the ways you kept kneecapping people.”
“I didn’t kneecap the last one.”
He chuckled. “That’s true.”
We fell into a companionable silence as we walked along the long stretch of hallway, peering into the worn, cleared out rooms. I didn’t know what the hell Kenzi was talking about. There wasn’t anything here. Not of any worth, anyway. So she found an old trafficking barn; good for her. I was about to suggest we turn back when something caught my eye.
“I know that symbol.” I pointed to the all-seeing eye carved inside of the Seal of Solomon. “Vas showed this to me. It’s the crest for this secret society thing.”
“Potestas Omnis,” Matthias breathed, coming up behind me.
“You’ve heard of it.” Duh, Ava, obviously he had.
“We’ll compare notes when we get back,” he said, running his hand over the symbol. Pressing onto the wooden door, I pushed. It slid open with a groan. The room was empty, just like the others.
“There might be hidden compartments.” I ran my hand up and down the brick on the right side of the wall, stretching tall before moving toward the floor. He followed suit on the other side. Inch by inch, I searched for any type of false or loose brick.
“Pay dirt,” Matthias called out. He shifted one of the bricks from its spot. It didn’t look like the rest of its counterparts, which had grayed with age. This one was certainly duller, but it was slightly misshapen, most likely from weather damage. The fake brick was barely a few inches long, and the other bricks on either side of it had been carved out to make room for something else.
A small wooden box.
Carefully, he removed it from its hiding place and handed it to me. The design was Irish. I had seen something like this before, but I couldn’t place where. On the top, molded from silver, was the Celtic love knot.
My breathing stilled as I opened the lid, the wood of the box soft from being exposed to the elements for who knows how long. Inside, there were small trinkets and baubles, things a child would have. I removed them, one by one, and placed them in Matthias’s outstretched hand. Rings, a baby tooth in a small, clear baggy, a lock of red hair, some crayons, a photo of a baby and a young woman I didn’t recognize.
“Oh my god,” I gasped.
“What is it?” Matthias leaned in to get a better look.
“Holy fuck,” he whispered. “That can’t be—”
At the bottom of the small box, beneath the first photo, was a grainy photo that was dated March 1990. It wasn’t hard to recognize the young girl in the photo with her long strawberry blond hair and brown eyes. She had the same angular features now as she did back then. Was even wearing the same necklace she’d worn in all the photos I’d seen of her.
“Marianne.” I finished his sentence, horror rushing through me. The girl in the photo couldn’t be any older than twelve or thirteen. Not long before my mother became friends with her. “I don’t understand.”
“Let’s get this back to the hotel, and we can go from there.” Matthias emptied the trinkets in his hand back into the box and shut the lid before ushering me out of the room.
The rain had stopped, the sky empty of clouds, allowing the stars to shine through. It was such a peaceful place for such tragic memories. This time, we weren’t alone. Several of our men waited for us, along with my father and Sully.
“You two were taking too long, so we thought we’d come and find you.” My father approached me. His eyes scanned my body, checking for injuries.
“I’m okay,” I placated him. “We found a few things that—” God, how was I going to tell him? He hadn’t taken it very well the first time I had suggested Marianne had something to do with Mom’s kidnapping and murder. How was he going to take this?
“Where did you get that?” he asked, pointing at the box in my house.
“Umm,” I stuttered, holding the box tighter in my hand. This was the proof I needed to bring my mother’s murderer to justice. I wasn’t going to let anyone take it from me. Not even him. “In one of the rooms downstairs. It was hidden in a wall.”