Chapter 2 - THE LOCKED ROOM
I moved first.
The gun came out before I consciously decided to reach for it.
Grace pulled the girls behind her.
“Stay here,” I ordered.
Olivia shook her head.
“No.”
I looked at her.
She was terrified.
But she didn't move.
That frightened me more than the footsteps.
Children should run from danger.
My daughters had learned to freeze.
I lowered my weapon.
“Grace.”
She understood.
She took them toward the library's adjoining sitting room.
I walked into the hallway.
Nothing.
The mansion was silent.
Too silent.
I checked the staircase.
Empty.
Second floor.
Empty.
I checked the security monitors.
Nothing unusual.
Every camera showed an empty corridor.
That should have reassured me.
Instead, it made my stomach tighten.
Because I knew my system.
I had installed it myself.
There were no blind spots.
Except one.
The wine cellar.
Its camera had stopped transmitting fourteen months earlier.
I had ordered maintenance twice.
Nobody had fixed it.
I had never questioned why.
Now I knew why.
I returned to the library.
Grace stood with the girls.
“Who has access to the cellar?”
“Me,” I said.
“Who else?”
I thought.
“Mrs. Donnelly. Security. My brother Marco.”
Grace stared at me.
“Anyone else?”
I shook my head.
Then Nora whispered:
“Uncle Marco.”
I froze.
“What about him?”
“He came to Mommy's room.”
“When?”
“Night.”
“What night?”
“The night before.”
I crouched.
“What did he do?”
Nora looked at Grace.
Grace nodded gently.
Nora whispered:
“He told Mommy Daddy couldn't know.”
My pulse slowed.
Not from calm.
From rage.
I called Marco.
He answered on the second ring.
“Dom?”
“Where are you?”
“At the club.”
“Stay there.”
A pause.
“Why?”
“Because I said so.”
I ended the call.
Grace watched me.
“You think it's him.”
“I think everyone is innocent until I know otherwise.”
“That isn't what your face says.”
I walked toward the library doors.
Grace followed.
“Where are you going?”
“To the cellar.”
She caught my arm.
“Don't.”
I turned.
“Why?”
“Because Isabelle didn't leave that key for you to find alone.”
“What does that mean?”
Grace's eyes filled with tears.
“She knew something was going to happen.”
“You knew her?”
Grace didn't answer.
I stared at her.
“You knew my wife.”
She finally whispered:
“Yes.”
The world seemed to tilt.
“How?”
Grace looked at the girls.
Then back at me.
“She saved my life.”
I said nothing.
“When I was nineteen, I was working at a restaurant in Garden City. A man followed me into the parking lot one night. Isabelle saw him. She called the police. Then she stayed with me until they arrived.”
My jaw tightened.
“That was eleven years ago.”
“Yes.”
“And you never told me?”
“I didn't know you would hire me.”
“Who recommended you?”
“Mrs. Donnelly.”
I turned.
“Of course.”
We walked downstairs.
The cellar door was behind a paneled wall.
I inserted the key.
The lock clicked.
The door opened.
Cold air rolled across my face.
The room smelled like dust and old wood.
There were wine racks.
Crates.
Shelves.
Nothing unusual.
Then Grace pointed.
“Behind there.”
A wooden cabinet stood against the wall.
I pulled it aside.
A narrow doorway appeared.
My heart began pounding.
Isabelle had never mentioned a second room.
I opened it.
Inside was a desk.
A chair.
Three filing cabinets.
And a small monitor.
The monitor flickered on.
A video began playing.
Isabelle appeared on screen.
She was sitting exactly where I was standing now.
Her eyes were red.
She looked exhausted.
“Dominic,” she said.
My knees nearly gave out.
“If you're watching this, something happened to me.”
Grace covered her mouth.
Isabelle continued.
“I need you to listen carefully.”
She leaned closer to the camera.
“The person who wants me dead isn't after me.”
A pause.
“They're after the girls.”
My blood turned to ice.
Isabelle looked behind her.
Then whispered:
“Because one of our daughters isn't who you think she is.”
The video ended.
Nobody moved.
Then Nora screamed.
Not from fear.
From recognition.
“That man!”
I spun around.
She was pointing at the screen.
“That's the man who came with Mommy.”
“Who?”
Nora pointed toward the dark doorway behind us.
I turned.
A shadow moved.
Then the cellar door slammed shut.
The lights went out.
And somebody whispered my name from the darkness.
May you like
“Dominic.”
It was my brother's voice.
