Page 43 of Take A Chance

“Sir, Katelyn is settled now. I thought you should know. I did what you asked. She is resting.” Greta and I had concocted a story about Emma being on a trip somewhere. Katelyn wasn’t having it at first, but Greta and Marta managed to convince her that it was okay. Heaven help us if Emma didn’t come back.

My throat constricted at the thought. I felt tears sting my eyes, and then the rage that followed. “That’s good,” I managed.

“Sir, what if they come back? What if it wasn’t just Emma they wanted?” Greta sounded terrified, as if she’d have some reason to fear being taken too.

“Why would they want someone else? Who is this ‘they’ you are afraid of?” I wanted to calm her fears, but part of me believed them to be irrational. There was no proof that anyone was after my family or home. Everything pointed to the fact that Emma had people in her life that we didn’t know about, including the fact that since she’d been taken, no one had bothered me, my property, or my family.

“I’m just saying the people who took her. What if they come back for Katelyn? Sir, I’m so scared for her.” I could hear the fear in her voice. I knew that feeling well. I’d feared that for a moment too, until Wilem assured me that he would not let anyone on the property, promising even his own life to protect my Katelyn’s.

“You have a right to fear that, Greta, but Wilem has promised me he won’t let it come to that. The police know what has happened. As long as you stay on the property, you, Marta, and Katelyn will all be safe. The police have even increased patrols to once an hour, so they’re never far away. And Wilem has tripled the security now. He is personally staying in the guest wing. You know this. You’re safe.”

“I don’t know, sir. It doesn’t feel right.” She mumbled something in Italian, a prayer maybe, and sighed. “I’m going to check on Katelyn and make sure she is still napping. Please call me if the investigator gives you any news.”

“I will.” I hung up, but part of my heart was still there in that conversation.

There were times when Greta expressed her fears that I felt like she was still hiding something, but I knew her. If she knew something, she’d tell me... unless she feared for her life, perhaps, but how could Emma’s disappearance make Greta so afraid she’d lie to me?

Gary pulled the car into the parking garage, stopping by the elevator. The window between the compartments slowly lowered and he spoke over his shoulder. “I’ll be waiting on level three for you, sir. Just send a message.”

I climbed out without speaking. I didn’t trust my voice. When the investigator told me what he had to share should be done in person, not over the phone, I had a gut-wrenching feeling I wouldn’t like it. I smoothed my tie, buttoning my suit coat, and walked to the elevator. As the doors opened, a few college students trickled out clad in NYU sweatshirts, and I stepped in and pressed the button for the fifth floor.

The ominous feeling I was about to walk into an ambush gnawed at my chest. Emma wasn’t really Emma, but I didn’t know who she was or what she’d done to get into trouble. Part of me didn’t want to know. I wanted to stay naïve, just have her back and move forward like none of this had happened. But part of me needed every painful detail, everything she’d lied about, hidden, was too scared to tell me. It was the only reason I could fathom her lying—that she was scared.

The elevator chimed and arrived at my floor. The doors opened and a petite, plump redhead smiled at me. “Mr. Emmerson, Mr. Harrison will see you. Right this way.” She gestured and started moving, and I followed her. Each step felt like a lead weight was attached to my feet. We walked down a long corridor toward the back of the office. I’d been here only once, when I was searching for Katelyn’s mother. The feelings and memories stirred, compounding what I was already feeling.

The woman opened the door and announced me. “Mr. Harrison, Mr. Emmerson to see you.” She stepped aside, and I moved past her on autopilot. I heard the door click shut and sat, numb and stoic. The room was cold. It smelled like cigars and some sort of air freshener.

Harrison sat across from me, flyaway hair combed over his balding head. “Well, Blake, you’re not going to like me.”

I took a deep breath, bracing myself. “How bad?”

“It’s pretty bad.” He nodded, reaching for his keyboard. With a few clicks, he brought up a screen with Emma’s image on it. With a few more, it was projected onto the whiteboard behind his desk. I looked up at it, trying to make sense of it all. What I saw didn’t actually surprise me as much as he thought it might. I could tell by the look on his face. I recognized the name instantly and felt simultaneously sick and enraged.

“Amelia Bonetti, daughter of Joseph Bonetti, head of the Caruso crime family.” His words didn’t fall on deaf ears, just dead ones. Murdered by my own logic. I refused to believe that Emma would have wrapped me up in this mess of her own volition. She was either terrified and running, hoping I could be her escape, or she was put up to it. I’d had a few fringe encounters with the mob but always managed, with the help of my security crew and Harrison, to avoid it.

This was unavoidable.

I was getting her back.

“Sir, she is his daughter. He’s in a fit of a mess right now. He’s probably calling her back home to sort things out and—”

“Calling her home?” I growled. “You think he just called her and she went?” I clenched my jaw, and Harrison backpedaled.

“Uh, no, sir. I was saying...”

“You were wrong. Emma—Amelia...” I had to take a deep breath. “She is in trouble.”

“As I was saying, I had to cross-reference her diploma, which was doctored too. The original document on record with the school has her legal name. She was the only one who graduated with that same degree and specializations that year. And when I looked up her student ID and the image on it, there was no mistaking it. Emma Clarke is Amelia Bonetti.”

I saw the evidence for myself, and everything was starting to make sense. She was terrified. The image of her face that day at the ice-cream shop was seared into my brain. That had to have been the man who’d taken her, or one of her father’s men at the very least. They were hunting her, and they got her. I just didn’t know why they wanted her.

“Anything else?” I asked gruffly.

“No, sir. But I’m still looking.”

I stood, saying nothing further, and sent Gary a message that I was coming back already. I needed to get to my apartment and think. I wandered out of the office and down the hall, dazed. The receptionist scurried after me, but I ignored her. I got to the elevator and pressed the button for Level 1, then slumped into the corner. When the doors slid open, I felt my phone vibrating. I almost ignored it, thinking it was the investigator.

But when I looked down and saw a number I didn’t recognize, I swiped right immediately. I hoped it was someone calling for ransom or something. I’d pay whatever they asked.

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