Chapter 2 - The House on Maple StreetClaire drove Daniel's sedan through the snow.
She hated every second of it.
She hated the black leather interior.
She hated the two armed men following them.
Most of all, she hated the fact that she had trusted a stranger because bullets had given her no better option.
Emma sat in the back seat beneath a blanket.
“Mom?”
“I’m here.”
“Is Daniel coming with us?”
Claire looked in the rearview mirror.
Daniel was in the passenger seat.
He had said almost nothing since leaving the café.
“Yes.”
“Good.”
Claire clenched the steering wheel.
She didn't understand her daughter anymore.
Daniel seemed equally confused.
When they reached the apartment building, Daniel ordered his men to stay outside.
Claire unlocked the door.
Everything looked normal.
The Christmas tree still stood beside the window.
Emma's stockings were hanging over the radiator.
A half-wrapped present sat on the kitchen table.
Claire exhaled.
“See?”
Daniel didn't move.
“Stay behind me.”
“Why?”
He pointed toward the floor.
A single drop of blood.
Claire stared.
The front door had been cleaned.
The hallway had been cleaned.
But someone had missed that.
Daniel stepped inside.
He opened every room.
Empty.
Claire followed.
Then she saw the bedroom.
The mattress had been cut open.
Drawers were overturned.
The closet had been emptied.
And on Emma's bed was a red Christmas ribbon.
Claire froze.
“What is that?”
Daniel walked toward it.
His face changed.
“Where did you get this?”
“I've never seen it.”
Daniel didn't touch the ribbon.
Instead, he took out a handkerchief.
He lifted it carefully.
On the underside was a symbol.
Three black lines crossed by a silver circle.
Claire frowned.
“What does that mean?”
Daniel stared at it.
“It means this isn't random.”
“What isn't?”
“The shooting.”
He looked at Emma's room.
“They were searching for something.”
Claire's fear became anger.
“Searching for what?”
Daniel didn't answer.
He walked into the living room.
A picture frame lay broken on the floor.
It showed Claire, Michael, and Emma at a lake.
Daniel picked it up.
His eyes stopped on Michael.
“Your husband.”
Claire's chest tightened.
“What about him?”
“When did he die?”
“Two years ago.”
“How?”
“Construction accident.”
Daniel stared at the photograph.
“Who investigated it?”
“The company. The police.”
“Any insurance dispute?”
“No.”
“Any enemies?”
Claire's expression hardened.
“Michael was an ordinary man.”
Daniel said nothing.
Claire stepped closer.
“You know something.”
“Yes.”
“What?”
Daniel turned the photograph over.
There was a handwritten number behind it.
He recognized the handwriting.
His own hands went cold.
Claire saw his face.
“What is it?”
Daniel answered slowly.
“That number belonged to my father.”
Claire stared.
“Your father?”
“My father died eleven years ago.”
Silence filled the room.
Daniel turned toward Emma.
The little girl was asleep on the couch.
He lowered his voice.
“Where did your husband work?”
“Keegan Construction.”
Daniel's eyes narrowed.
He already knew the name.
Keegan Construction had been one of the companies his family secretly used years ago.
But there was more.
His father had once accused the company's owner of stealing from him.
Then Daniel's father died.
The file vanished.
The accusation disappeared.
And nobody spoke about Keegan again.
Daniel suddenly understood why someone had tried to kill Emma.
Someone believed Claire possessed something Michael had taken.
Something important enough to kill for.
Claire folded her arms.
“You’re going to tell me everything.”
Daniel looked at her.
“I will.”
“Now.”
“Not here.”
“Why?”
“Because this apartment is compromised.”
As if summoned by the word, the lights went out.
Emma woke up.
“Mom?”
A noise came from the hallway.
A soft metallic click.
Daniel grabbed Claire and pulled her behind the wall.
The bedroom door slowly opened.
A silhouette appeared.
Daniel raised his weapon.
“Don't move.”
The intruder didn't.
Then a child's voice came from the hallway.
“Emma?”
Claire's blood ran cold.
It sounded exactly like her daughter.
But Emma was standing beside her.
Daniel looked toward the hallway.
For the first time, genuine horror entered his eyes.
“That's not a person.”
A second voice whispered from the darkness.
“Claire Bennett.”
Then every light in the apartment came back on.
May you like
And on the wall above the Christmas tree was a message written in red:
WE KNOW WHAT YOUR HUSBAND HID.
