Chapter 5 - THE FLASH DRIVEGrant spent the next hour asking questions.
Not accusing.
Not shouting.
Just asking.
Audrey told him everything.
The night before his father died, she had gone to the Whitmore estate.
His father was in his study.
He looked terrified.
He handed her a small black flash drive.
“Don't give this to Grant,” he told her.
“Why?”
“Because if he has it, they'll come after him.”
Then he had asked her to give it to Lenora.
Audrey obeyed.
The next morning, his father was dead.
The official cause was heart failure.
Grant had never questioned it.
Now he couldn't breathe.
“Did my mother ever give the drive back?”
“No.”
“Did she tell you what was on it?”
“No.”
“Then why did she lock you upstairs yesterday?”
Audrey looked confused.
“I don't know.”
Grant did.
His mother had been searching for something.
Something she thought Audrey might still have.
He called David.
“Find every digital backup my father ever made.”
David sighed.
“We're already doing it.”
“No.”
Grant's voice was firm.
“I want the original server.”
A pause.
“Grant, that server was destroyed after your father's death.”
“By whom?”
David didn't answer.
“David.”
“Your mother authorized the destruction.”
Grant closed his eyes.
“Of course she did.”
He ended the call.
Then he stood.
“We're going home.”
Audrey looked alarmed.
“Grant, no.”
“We need to get my father's files.”
“But Lenora—”
“Won't be there.”
“How do you know?”
Grant smiled without humor.
“Because I had her removed.”
They returned to the estate just after midnight.
The party decorations were still everywhere.
Half-empty champagne bottles.
Wilted flowers.
Dirty plates.
A dead Christmas tree had begun shedding needles across the floor.
The house looked beautiful.
And rotten.
Grant walked directly to his father's old study.
The room had been untouched for years.
Or so he thought.
A bookshelf stood against the far wall.
He remembered his father always keeping the bottom shelf locked.
Grant crouched.
The lock was already broken.
Inside was an empty compartment.
Audrey touched his shoulder.
“Someone's been here.”
Grant nodded.
Then he noticed something.
A scratch on the floor.
The shelf had been moved.
He pushed it.
Nothing.
He pushed harder.
The bookshelf shifted.
Behind it was a narrow door.
Audrey gasped.
Grant opened it.
A stairway descended into darkness.
“Your father had a basement?”
“No.”
He turned on the flashlight.
They went down.
At the bottom was a small room.
No windows.
One desk.
One chair.
And a wall covered in photographs.
Grant stopped breathing.
Photographs of his father.
Photographs of Lenora.
Photographs of Grant.
Photographs of Audrey.
And photographs of Caleb.
Recent ones.
Taken before Caleb was even born.
Audrey stepped backward.
“They've been watching us.”
Grant walked toward the desk.
There was a folder on it.
Inside were bank records.
Medical records.
Travel records.
And one photograph of Grant's father taken the day before he died.
On the back was written:
HE KNEW TOO MUCH.
Grant's phone rang.
David.
“Grant, where are you?”
“At my father's house.”
“Get out.”
“Why?”
“We found a transfer.”
“From who?”
“Lenora.”
“To whom?”
David's voice lowered.
“An account connected to the security company.”
Grant frowned.
“What security company?”
“The one that installed your cameras.”
Grant's blood ran cold.
He looked up.
The camera in the corner was blinking.
Red.
Recording.
David shouted through the phone.
“Grant, listen to me. Your mother had remote access.”
Grant turned toward Audrey.
A sound came from upstairs.
Footsteps.
Grant froze.
Someone was inside the house.
He turned off the flashlight.
The footsteps came closer.
One.
Two.
Three.
Then someone stopped outside the hidden room.
Silence.
Grant reached for Audrey's hand.
The doorknob slowly turned.
May you like
And a man's voice whispered from the other side:
“I know you're in there.”
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