Chapter 29 - Domestic Ordinary
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By mid-afternoon, a heavy rainstorm rolled over the valley, tapping a rhythmic beat against the high glass windows of the estate.
Inside, the grand house was warm and peaceful. Lorenzo sat in the library listening to classical music while reviewing a stack of property deeds. Isabella was curled up on the large leather sofa nearby, working on her laptop.
Suddenly, the landline phone on the side table chimed softly.
Lorenzo reached over and picked up the receiver. "DeLuca."
"Mr. DeLuca?" a polite voice came through the speaker. "This is Arthur from the main gatehouse. There is a delivery courier here with a wooden crate marked for priority personal delivery to Mrs. Isabella DeLuca."
Lorenzo frowned slightly, his instincts instantly sharpening. "Who is the sender?"
"The manifest says it originated from the Municipal Archives Department at the New York Supreme Court," Arthur reported. "It’s labeled as archived evidence from the 2026 State v. Vincent case that was cleared for release."
Isabella looked up from her laptop, hearing the exchange. "The old evidence vaults?"
"Bring it up to the main entrance, Arthur," Lorenzo instructed, setting the phone down.
Five minutes later, two security guards delivered a medium-sized, weathered wooden crate into the library, placing it carefully on the central coffee table before bowing politely and stepping out.
Lorenzo approached the table, picking up a brass crowbar from his tool set in the side closet.
"This evidence was supposed to be destroyed five years ago," Isabella said, stepping up beside him with a look of intense curiosity.
"Evidently, someone in the county clerk's office found it during a vault renovation," Lorenzo said, wedging the crowbar under the wooden lid.
With a sharp creak, the nails gave way, and Lorenzo lifted the heavy wooden top off the crate.
Inside, resting on a bed of faded foam packaging, were several sealed evidence bags containing items from the original investigation that had never been introduced in open court.
Isabella reached in, her hand brushing past old financial ledgers and taped cassette recordings, until her fingers touched a small, rusted metal tin locked with an antique brass padlock.
Attached to the handle of the tin was a small, faded yellow tag written in precise, elegant handwriting.
Isabella read the tag out loud, her voice suddenly dropping an octave:
May you like
"Property of Claire Vance. To be opened only by Isabella DeLuca."
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