Chapter 3 - The Room Behind Arthur’s Wall)
The hidden staircase descended between the walls.
Not up.
Down.
Alex stared into darkness.
Detective Monroe joined him with a flashlight.
“When was this house built?”
“1928. Renovated before Clara and I bought it.”
“Who handled the renovation?”
“My mother recommended the contractor.”
Monroe looked back toward the hallway.
“Of course she did.”
They descended together.
Twenty-three steps.
At the bottom was a steel door.
Unlocked.
The room beyond was no larger than a storage closet.
But it was not used for storage.
There were monitors.
Cables.
A recording device.
And shelves filled with labeled folders.
Alex stared.
Every monitor displayed a different part of his house.
The kitchen.
Living room.
Front driveway.
Clara’s study.
Lily’s bedroom.
His bedroom.
He felt physically sick.
“They were watching us.”
Monroe stepped closer to a monitor.
“Not were.”
She pointed.
One feed displayed the living room downstairs in real time.
“They still are.”
A technician was called.
Nobody touched the equipment until everything had been photographed.
Alex scanned the folder labels.
Some were dates.
Some initials.
Then he found one labeled A.C.
He opened it.
Photographs.
Alex leaving for work.
Alex meeting clients.
Alex at restaurants.
Alex boarding flights.
Emails printed from his corporate account.
His employment contract.
Personal banking information.
At the bottom was a document titled FAMILY CONTINGENCY.
His name appeared beside a figure.
$18,000,000.
“What is this?”
Monroe took the page.
“It looks like a payout schedule.”
“To whom?”
She read.
“Beneficiary: T. Carter.”
Alex stopped breathing.
Teresa.
His mother would receive eighteen million dollars under certain conditions.
“What conditions?”
Monroe turned the page.
Clause A: termination of marriage through death.
Clause B: transfer of guardianship of minor dependent.
Clause C: assumption of Voss Meridian voting proxy.
Alex read the third line twice.
“I don’t own enough shares to matter.”
“You might.”
“I know what I own.”
“Do you know what your wife owned?”
He stared at her.
Clara had inherited some investments from her grandfather.
She had never cared much about them.
Richard Voss had once jokingly referred to her as his “quietest shareholder.”
Alex had assumed it meant nothing.
Monroe opened another folder.
C.C.
Clara Carter.
Inside were legal records, medical records, and photographs.
The earliest photograph was dated eight years ago.
Before Lily was born.
Someone had been tracking Clara for nearly a decade.
Alex’s phone rang.
Richard Voss.
He stared at the screen.
Monroe saw the name.
“Answer it.”
Alex did.
“Richard.”
The CEO’s voice sounded warm and concerned.
“Alex, thank God. I heard about Clara. I’m so sorry.”
Alex said nothing.
“I tried reaching you earlier.”
“No, you didn’t.”
A pause.
“I must have had the wrong number abroad.”
“You’ve had my number for eleven years.”
Another pause.
“Alex, grief can make everything feel confusing.”
Alex looked at the surveillance screens.
“My house has cameras in it.”
Silence.
He continued.
“My mother arranged them.”
Richard’s voice changed slightly.
“You should contact security.”
“I’m looking at an eighteen-million-dollar contingency contract with your company logo on it.”
Monroe held up one finger.
Keep him talking.
Richard sighed.
“That document is probably being misunderstood.”
“Explain it.”
“Not over the phone.”
“Then come here.”
“I don’t think that’s wise.”
“Why?”
“Because the police will twist this.”
Alex smiled without humor.
“You already know police are here?”
Richard said nothing.
Alex’s eyes moved to the camera feeds.
Then he realized.
“Can you see me?”
The call disconnected.
Monroe cursed.
A technician immediately began tracing the surveillance system.
Alex searched the shelves faster.
Clara’s folder contained another envelope.
Inside was a photograph of Richard and Teresa standing outside an unfamiliar brick building.
Written on the back in Clara’s handwriting:
BLUE BIRD.
Alex called Lily downstairs.
He showed her the picture.
“Is this what Mommy meant?”
Lily stared at it.
Then nodded.
“That’s the blue bird place.”
“How do you know?”
“Mommy took me there.”
“When?”
“When Grandma said we were at ballet.”
Alex’s heart kicked.
“You weren’t at ballet?”
Lily shook her head.
“Mommy said I had to pretend.”
“What happened at the blue bird place?”
Lily looked toward the door.
Then whispered.
“Mommy showed me the lady who looks like her.”
Alex froze.
“The lady in the coffin?”
May you like
Lily nodded.
“She was alive.”
