Chapter 4 - The darkness lasted three seconds.It felt like three years.
Officers drew weapons.
Someone shouted for everyone to stay where they were.
Emergency lights flickered on.
Red.
Dim.
Unnatural.
The basement suddenly looked like a crime scene from another world.
“Who has access to this property?” the detective asked.
Charles said, “My staff.”
“Names.”
He hesitated.
“Five people.”
“Call them.”
“They may be asleep.”
“Call them.”
Charles pulled out his phone.
No signal.
He looked at it.
“That's strange.”
The detective's expression changed.
“Your security system is down too.”
Nobody answered.
Then Maya whispered,
“He did this before.”
I turned.
“Who?”
She looked at Charles.
“My father.”
Charles shook his head.
“I have never done anything like that.”
“Then why are you lying?”
Maya's eyes filled with tears.
“You always cut the power when Evelyn screamed.”
Adrian froze.
“What?”
Maya covered her mouth.
She hadn't meant to say it.
The detective stepped toward her.
“Tell me everything.”
Maya shook her head.
“I can't.”
“You can.”
“No.”
The detective crouched slightly so he could meet her eyes.
“People are protected when they tell the truth.”
Maya laughed softly.
“Not in this family.”
Then a sound came from behind the wall.
Three knocks.
Everyone froze.
Three more.
Knock.
Knock.
Knock.
My heart hammered.
The detective pointed toward the wall.
“Move the cabinet.”
Two officers shoved the old wooden cabinet aside.
Behind it was another door.
No handle.
Only a keypad.
Adrian stared.
“I've never seen that.”
Charles closed his eyes.
Maya whispered,
“I have.”
The detective looked at her.
“How do we open it?”
Maya gave him a six-digit number.
The keypad flashed green.
The door unlocked.
Cold air poured into the hallway.
The detective entered first.
We followed.
The passage was narrow.
Concrete walls.
No lights.
Someone had installed cameras every few feet.
One officer checked a monitor.
“Live feed.”
He pointed.
There were cameras covering the dining room.
The study.
The front gate.
The basement.
And one room I didn't recognize.
The detective zoomed in.
A woman was sitting on a chair.
Her hair covered her face.
Her hands were tied.
I couldn't breathe.
“Is that…”
Maya nodded.
“Evelyn.”
Adrian stumbled toward the screen.
“No.”
The woman lifted her head.
The feed was live.
She looked directly into the camera.
Then she smiled.
The screen went black.
“Get me that room,” the detective ordered.
They followed the camera cables.
At the end of the passage was a reinforced steel door.
Locked.
The detective shouted,
“Open it!”
No response.
He nodded toward the officers.
They broke the lock.
The door opened.
Empty.
One chair.
One pair of restraints.
Fresh blood on the floor.
The woman was gone.
Adrian dropped to his knees.
“No.”
The detective searched the room.
“Find the exit.”
There was none.
Then an officer shouted.
“Window.”
A tiny opening in the ceiling.
Too small for an adult.
The detective stared.
“Not possible.”
I saw something on the floor.
A piece of red fabric.
I picked it up.
It was from Evelyn's coat.
Then my phone rang again.
Unknown number.
I answered.
This time the woman's voice was unmistakable.
Evelyn.
“You're looking in the wrong room.”
“Where are you?”
“Closer than you think.”
“Who are you hiding from?”
Silence.
Then she whispered,
“Not Charles.”
My throat tightened.
“Then who?”
The line went dead.
A second later, every officer's phone vibrated simultaneously.
A message appeared on each screen.
CHECK THE MASTER BEDROOM.
We ran upstairs.
The door was open.
The bed had been moved.
Beneath it was a trapdoor.
May you like
And on the wood, written in fresh red paint, were four words:
CLAIRE WAS NEVER THE TARGET.
Related Stories
