Chapter 6 - The Security ChiefThe Man Who Had Keys to Everything
Vincent didn't point the gun directly at anyone.
He didn't need to.
The message was enough.
Caleb moved in front of Mia.
Grace grabbed Lily.
I stepped between Vincent and my family.
“You've been lying to me for eleven years.”
Vincent's expression barely changed.
“I've been protecting this house.”
“From whom?”
“From you.”
The answer stunned me.
Caleb laughed bitterly.
“Still saying that?”
Vincent glanced at him.
“You should have stayed quiet.”
“You buried me alive.”
Vincent's eyes narrowed.
“Technically, I left you alive.”
“What's the difference?”
“The difference is that you ruined it by escaping.”
My hands curled into fists.
“Why did Adrian order Caleb's death?”
Vincent didn't answer.
I took one step forward.
“Where is Daniel?”
His face changed.
Only for a second.
But I saw it.
Fear.
Not for himself.
For someone else.
“You're asking the wrong question,” he said.
“Then tell me the right one.”
“Ask why your father hid him.”
The words hit the room like another gunshot.
Caleb looked at me.
“I tried to tell you.”
I turned.
“You knew?”
“Not everything.”
Vincent took a breath.
“Your father discovered Elena's child was alive.”
“Daniel.”
“He didn't know where the boy was.”
“Then how did Adrian find him?”
Vincent's mouth tightened.
“He didn't.”
Silence.
“Then who did?”
Vincent looked at me.
“You.”
I frowned.
“What?”
He lowered the gun slightly.
“Daniel has been living under your protection for years.”
I stared.
“That is impossible.”
“You paid for his school.”
“I sponsor hundreds of children.”
“He's one of them.”
Caleb whispered,
“No.”
I turned toward him.
“What?”
“He isn't in Boston.”
Vincent laughed.
“Of course he isn't.”
He took one step backward.
“He's in Cambridge.”
I thought of the foundation.
A boy.
Sixteen.
Reserved.
Frequently absent.
There was one student who matched the description.
Daniel Mercer.
I had met him once at a charity event.
He'd looked at me strangely.
I thought he'd simply been shy.
Vincent raised the gun again.
“You need to stop looking into the family.”
“Or what?”
“People around you get hurt.”
He looked at Mia.
Grace stepped forward.
“Don't.”
Vincent smiled.
“Your daughter hears too much.”
I moved.
Caleb tackled Vincent.
The gun fired.
The bullet struck the ceiling.
Grace screamed.
I grabbed Vincent's wrist.
The weapon fell.
Caleb shoved him into the wall.
Vincent twisted free and ran into the passage.
I chased him.
But when I reached the corner, he was gone.
I found only an open hatch.
A second exit.
He had planned it.
Of course he had.
I returned to the hidden room.
Grace was crying.
Mia stood beside Caleb.
Then she said something that made all three of us freeze.
“Daddy.”
Caleb looked at her.
“What?”
“Mr. Vincent wasn't the one knocking.”
We stared.
“Then who was?”
Mia pointed at the wall.
“The knocking came from farther away.”
“Farther?”
She nodded.
“There's another room.”
Caleb's face changed.
“No.”
“You know it,” I said.
He looked away.
“Mia's right.”
“How many rooms are there?”
Caleb swallowed.
“Three.”
“Where is the third?”
“Under the house.”
I stared at the floor.
“And how do we get there?”
Caleb pointed downward.
“Through the library fireplace.”
We returned to the study.
I examined the old stone fireplace.
Nothing seemed unusual.
Then Mia walked toward it.
She touched one brick.
“This one.”
I pressed it.
Nothing.
Mia pressed beside it.
A mechanism clicked.
The fireplace shifted six inches.
Behind it was a staircase descending into darkness.
At the bottom, something metallic reflected my flashlight.
A chain.
And attached to the chain was a small silver bracelet.
Grace recognized it immediately.
She screamed.
“That belonged to my sister.”
Caleb went pale.
I looked at him.
“Your sister?”
Grace was shaking.
“My sister Elena.”
The woman from the photograph.
The woman everyone said was dead.
The woman whose child had disappeared.
The woman whose bracelet was now hanging in a secret room beneath my house.
I took one step down.
Then another.
And from below came a voice.
A woman's voice.
Weak.
Older.
But unmistakably alive.
“Harriet's son?”
I stopped.
The voice whispered,
“Please.”
“I know who you are.”
Silence.
Then she answered.
“No.”
May you like
A pause.
“I know who your father was.”
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