Chapter 13 - The House by the Sea|
The drive to Newport took forty-five minutes down the winding, rain-slicked coastal highway.
The Moretti beach house was a sprawling, three-story Victorian estate built on a cliff overlooking the dark, thrashing waters of the Atlantic Ocean. It had remained shuttered and empty since Lorenzo Moretti’s death six years ago.
The black SUV pulled onto the overgrown gravel driveway. Sea spray misted against the windshield as the storm roared off the coast.
Vincent and Paul stepped out into the freezing wind, their coats snapping around their legs.
Paul drew his weapon, holding a heavy tactical flashlight as they walked up the rotting wooden steps of the wrap-around porch.
Vincent unlocked the front door using his master key. The heavy oak door swung open with a long, agonizing creak.
The interior smelled of damp salt, old dust, and decaying wood. Sheets covered the furniture in the grand living room like white ghosts in the beam of Paul's flashlight.
They walked up the grand staircase to the second-floor study—Lorenzo's private retreat.
Vincent walked directly to the massive marble fireplace. He reached behind the heavy brass clock resting on the mantelpiece.
May you like
His fingers brushed against cold metal.
He pulled out a small, tarnished brass key.
