Chapter 4 - the door beneath the stairs)
It took Daniel twelve minutes to find the hidden latch.
The decorative panel beneath the staircase looked identical to the surrounding wood.
Martha remembered her late husband opening it years earlier during plumbing repairs.
Daniel pressed near the carved edge.
Nothing.
He tried again.
A narrow section moved inward.
Cold air escaped through the gap.
Aaron immediately stopped him.
"We don't go charging in."
"My employee may be inside."
"My missing person may be inside. That's why we do this carefully."
Two deputies retrieved flashlights.
The panel opened into a stone stairway descending beneath the villa.
Vanessa remained in the foyer.
Richard had called an attorney.
The guests had finally begun leaving after receiving vague explanations about a medical emergency.
Rumors spread anyway.
Several people had seen police vehicles.
One photographer had taken pictures of Sophie crying.
Daniel did not care.
The wedding had become irrelevant.
He followed Aaron underground.
The temperature dropped.
Blackwood Villa looked warm and magnificent above ground.
Below it was another world.
Stone walls.
Copper pipes.
Old electrical lines.
Dust.
The passage split in two.
Daniel remembered the left corridor leading toward the former wine cellar.
The right corridor connected to the archive wing.
They went right.
Halfway down, Aaron raised a hand.
A piece of fabric hung from a rusty nail.
Green.
Rachel's scarf.
Daniel's chest tightened.
Aaron photographed it before placing it in an evidence bag.
They continued.
The document vault door stood at the end.
Solid steel.
A large brass lock waited at the center.
Daniel inserted the key from Sophie's basket.
It turned.
The door opened.
The room beyond was not empty.
Someone had been there recently.
A folding chair stood beside a wooden desk.
A plastic water bottle sat on the floor.
Fresh footprints crossed the dust.
Daniel rushed forward.
"Rachel?"
Nothing.
Aaron checked the adjoining chamber.
Empty.
But on the desk lay a phone.
Rachel's phone.
Daniel recognized the cracked corner of the case.
Aaron put on gloves.
The battery was dead.
Beside it lay a notebook.
Most pages had been torn out.
One remained.
Three numbers were written on it.
14.
15.
16.
Below them was a word.
Arthur.
Daniel's father had been named Arthur Reed.
He died nine years earlier.
Daniel stared at the writing.
"What does it mean?"
Aaron asked.
"I don't know."
They searched the room.
Behind the desk was a metal cabinet.
Empty.
A second brass door connected the vault to a narrower corridor.
It was unlocked.
The corridor led toward the carriage house.
Aaron examined the floor.
"Tire marks?"
Daniel looked.
Two parallel tracks ran through the dust.
"Something with wheels."
"A cart?"
"Maybe."
Daniel imagined Rachel being moved through the tunnel.
He pushed the image away.
They reached another stairway.
At the top was a locked wooden door.
Daniel recognized it.
It opened into an abandoned storage room behind the carriage house.
The door had been secured from the outside.
Someone had used the underground passage recently.
Someone who knew Blackwood.
Aaron called for additional officers.
Daniel returned upstairs.
Vanessa was waiting in the library with her attorney.
Her wedding gown looked surreal now.
Too bright.
Too perfect.
She stood as Daniel entered.
"Did you find her?"
The question sounded appropriate.
Almost caring.
Daniel placed Rachel's dead phone on the table inside an evidence bag.
Vanessa's eyes dropped to it.
Only briefly.
"Where was that?" she asked.
Daniel did not answer immediately.
He watched her.
"In the old vault."
Richard looked genuinely surprised.
Vanessa did not.
Daniel noticed.
"So you've been there?"
"No."
"Then why aren't you surprised it exists?"
"I grew up visiting this house."
"No, you didn't."
Vanessa's eyes narrowed.
"We've been together for three years."
"The vault has been closed for more than twenty."
Her attorney interrupted.
"Daniel, this conversation isn't productive."
Daniel ignored him.
"You knew."
Vanessa crossed her arms.
"Knew what?"
"That there was a room under the east wing."
"Your grandmother mentioned old tunnels once."
"When?"
"I don't remember."
"Funny."
"What's funny?"
"She hated you."
The words struck harder than Daniel intended.
Vanessa's face tightened.
Richard stepped forward.
"Enough."
Daniel turned toward him.
"Did Eleanor hate you too?"
Richard said nothing.
Daniel continued.
"She wrote a letter."
Vanessa's attorney looked at her.
That was another reaction.
Small.
But unmistakable.
He knew something too.
Daniel felt the room tilt beneath him.
"How many of you knew?"
Richard's voice became colder.
"Daniel, grief is making you reckless."
"My grandmother left evidence."
"Of what?"
"You tell me."
Richard almost smiled.
"You don't even know, do you?"
Daniel stopped.
Richard had made a mistake.
He knew what Eleanor had found.
Daniel stepped closer.
"No."
Richard's smile disappeared.
"But I'm starting to understand why Rachel vanished."
A deputy entered.
"Aaron needs you downstairs."
Daniel turned.
The deputy lowered his voice.
"They found blood."
Daniel's stomach dropped.
"Where?"
"Carriage house."
Vanessa inhaled.
Daniel looked at her.
She had gone pale.
He ran.
The trace was small.
A few dark spots near the storage room door.
Aaron immediately warned Daniel not to assume the worst.
It could belong to anyone.
It could be old.
But Daniel noticed another object on the floor.
A broken bracelet.
Silver.
Tiny stars around the chain.
Sophie had given it to Rachel on Mother's Day.
Daniel knew because Sophie had proudly shown it to him.
He leaned against the wall.
Aaron placed a hand on his shoulder.
"We're going to find her."
Daniel nodded.
Then he noticed something carved into the wooden door frame.
Three numbers.
Fresh scratches.
14.
15.
16.
The same numbers from Rachel's notebook.
Arthur.
Daniel stared.
A memory surfaced.
His father loved codes when Daniel was young.
Treasure hunts.
Birthday puzzles.
Hidden messages.
Arthur Reed had taught his son one simple substitution method.
Numbers represented letters.
1 was A.
2 was B.
3 was C.
14 was N.
3 was C.
9 was I.
NCI.
Daniel frowned.
It made no sense.
Unless the numbers were not letters.
Then he remembered his father's study.
Books were cataloged by shelf, row, and position.
14.
15.
16.
Daniel looked at Aaron.
"I know what she was trying to tell me."
"Where?"
"My father's library."
They ran upstairs.
Arthur Reed's private study had remained mostly untouched since his death.
Daniel went directly to bookshelf fourteen.
Third shelf.
Ninth book.
A leather-bound volume about American architecture.
He pulled it out.
Something fell from behind it.
A small black memory card.
Daniel stared at it.
Rachel had not simply been trying to escape.
May you like
She had been leaving a trail.
And whoever took her had failed to find the most important piece.
