Chapter 3 - A House Full of Eyes
Elise didn't sleep.
At three in the morning she sat on the edge of a bed large enough for six people and stared at the reinforced guest-room door.
Caleb had stationed two guards outside.
She hated it.
Not because she believed the protection was unnecessary.
Because part of her was grateful.
That frightened her more.
She had spent most of her adult life learning not to need anybody.
Her father had disappeared when she was eleven.
Her mother had died eight years later.
A series of jobs, cheap apartments and broken promises had taught Elise one rule:
Depending on somebody was only borrowing security from a person who could take it back.
Caleb Rowan looked like a man who had built his entire life around the same rule.
At seven, someone knocked.
“Who?”
“Caleb.”
She opened the door halfway.
He sat alone in his wheelchair.
“No guards?”
“They're at the end of the corridor.”
“What do you want?”
“Breakfast.”
“I work here.”
“Not today.”
“Why?”
“Because somebody put a knife through your eviction notice.”
She folded her arms.
“So I'm being promoted?”
“You're being protected.”
“That wasn't funny.”
“I wasn't joking.”
She looked at him.
“You're terrible at comforting people.”
“I don't generally comfort people.”
“I noticed.”
He started to turn his chair.
“Come eat.”
The breakfast room overlooked manicured gardens surrounded by stone walls and cameras.
Martha served coffee, then deliberately disappeared.
Elise suspected Caleb had ordered it.
He placed her eviction notice on the table.
A clean copy.
“You made another one?”
“My attorney did.”
“Why?”
“Because your original is evidence.”
Elise took coffee.
Caleb watched her.
“Your landlord has received three payments from a company called Delmore Holdings during the past year.”
“What?”
“Small amounts. Administrative fees.”
“I've never heard of them.”
“Neither has he, apparently.”
“Then why accept money?”
“Because they appeared as processing credits.”
Elise frowned.
“Why are you investigating my landlord?”
“Because somebody entered my house and threatened you using information from your room.”
“You think my eviction is connected?”
“I think coincidence is an expensive habit.”
She hated how reasonable that sounded.
“What is Delmore Holdings?”
“A shell company.”
“Owned by?”
“We don't know yet.”
“That's comforting.”
Caleb's eyes remained on her.
“You joke when you're frightened.”
“I complain when I'm comfortable. Consider yourself lucky.”
Something shifted in his expression.
Then Jonah entered.
“Found the renovation records.”
He placed a folder on the table.
“The west wing renovation after your accident was managed by Harrow Construction. Harrow dissolved six months later.”
“Owners?”
“Three. Two dead.”
“And the third?”
Jonah turned the photograph.
A man in his midforties.
Dark hair.
Thin smile.
“Victor Sloane.”
Caleb went absolutely still.
Elise noticed.
“You know him.”
Caleb didn't answer immediately.
Jonah did.
“He used to work for Caleb's father.”
“Used to?”
Caleb's voice was quiet.
“He betrayed him.”
Elise looked between them.
“What happened?”
Caleb rolled toward the window.
“My father believed fear was loyalty.”
“And?”
“He discovered the difference too late.”
Jonah continued.
“Victor disappeared twelve years ago. We thought he left the country.”
“Apparently not,” Elise said.
Caleb stared outside.
“Victor doesn't make accidents.”
Elise understood.
“He makes them look like accidents.”
Caleb nodded.
The room became colder.
“Why now?” she asked.
Caleb turned.
“That is the question.”
Elise looked at Victor's photograph.
Something about the man bothered her.
Not recognition.
Something smaller.
His jacket.
A dark blue blazer.
Nothing unusual.
Then she noticed a lapel pin.
A silver triangle.
Her stomach tightened.
“I've seen that.”
Jonah looked at her.
“Where?”
“I don't know.”
“Think.”
She closed her eyes.
Hotel corridors.
Restaurant uniforms.
Guests.
Maintenance technicians.
Then it came.
“The man at the service elevator.”
Caleb moved closer.
“What man?”
“Yesterday morning. Before the wheelchair technician arrived.”
“Describe him.”
“Maybe fifty. Gray hair. Carrying flowers.”
Jonah frowned.
“Flowers?”
“He said he was delivering arrangements for the foyer.”
Martha entered.
“No flowers were delivered yesterday.”
Elise felt cold.
“He wore that pin.”
Jonah swore.
“Why didn't you report him?”
“Because a man carrying flowers didn't seem like an assassination attempt!”
Caleb lifted a hand.
“She's right.”
Jonah looked frustrated but nodded.
Elise stared at the photograph.
“What does the symbol mean?”
Caleb answered.
“Victor used it on companies he controlled.”
“He walked through your house?”
“Maybe.”
Jonah was already issuing orders.
Elise remembered something else.
“He asked where the accessible entrance was.”
Caleb's face changed.
There it was.
The connection.
Whoever had posed as a deliveryman had been studying Caleb's exit route.
The marble.
The slope.
The wheelchair.
Elise stood.
“We need to check the flower tables.”
“Why?” Jonah asked.
“If he was pretending to deliver arrangements, he would've needed somewhere to stop without looking suspicious.”
Martha led them into the foyer.
Two large porcelain vases sat on narrow tables.
Elise examined the floor.
Nothing.
Then she noticed one table stood slightly farther from the wall than its twin.
She looked behind it.
A tiny camera had been attached beneath the molding.
Pointed directly toward Caleb's normal route.
Jonah removed it.
“Wireless.”
“Still transmitting?”
“Possibly.”
Caleb's voice became sharp.
“Don't disable it.”
Jonah understood.
“If they think we haven't found it—”
“We control what they see.”
Elise looked at Caleb.
For the first time, she saw the strategist beneath the reputation.
He wasn't dangerous because people feared him.
People feared him because his mind never stopped moving.
“Can you feed old footage?” she asked.
Jonah stared.
Caleb smiled faintly.
“See?”
Jonah sighed.
“I see why she's annoying you.”
“She's not annoying me.”
Elise looked at Caleb.
“You threw a glass at me two nights ago.”
“You're moderately annoying.”
She nearly laughed.
Then a guard entered.
“We traced Delmore Holdings.”
Caleb's amusement disappeared.
“To who?”
“Not Victor.”
“Who?”
The guard hesitated.
“Adrian Rowan.”
Caleb's cousin.
The only Rowan family member still welcome in the mansion.
Elise had met Adrian once.
Charming.
Expensive suit.
Perfect smile.
He had kissed Martha's cheek and tipped a delivery driver a hundred dollars.
Caleb looked toward Jonah.
“Bring him in.”
“He's already here.”
Everyone froze.
“Where?”
“Upstairs.”
Elise's pulse jumped.
Caleb's gaze moved toward the ceiling.
“Doing what?”
“He arrived twenty minutes ago. Said you requested him.”
“I didn't.”
Jonah reached for his weapon.
Caleb said, “No.”
“No?”
“If Adrian is involved, I want him comfortable.”
Elise understood what Caleb meant.
A frightened liar protected himself.
A comfortable liar talked.
They found Adrian in the upstairs drawing room pouring whiskey.
He smiled when they entered.
“Cousin.”
Caleb didn't return the greeting.
Adrian looked at Elise.
“And the famous housekeeper.”
Elise's stomach tightened.
“Famous?”
Adrian smiled.
“Apparently you saved Caleb from a tragic housekeeping accident.”
Nobody had publicly announced what happened.
Caleb's voice became quiet.
“Who told you?”
Adrian paused.
For one second.
One tiny second.
Then smiled again.
“People talk.”
Caleb said nothing.
Elise noticed Adrian's right cuff.
A faint smear of gray dust.
Plaster.
Like the dust behind the security panel.
She also noticed a tiny blue thread caught on his watch.
Her heart began hammering.
He followed her gaze.
And his smile disappeared.
Caleb noticed that.
So did Jonah.
Adrian slowly set down his drink.
“Elise,” Caleb said.
“Yes?”
“Leave the room.”
She didn't.
Caleb looked at her.
“Now.”
This time she obeyed.
The doors closed behind her.
She took three steps.
Then stopped.
At the opposite end of the hallway, a security guard she didn't recognize stood near the staircase.
He looked directly at her.
His hand moved inside his jacket.
Elise's instincts screamed.
She turned toward the drawing-room door.
“CALEB!”
The stranger drew a gun.
May you like
And the first bullet shattered the chandelier above her.
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