Chapter 6 - The Housekeeper’s Lie
Isabella stared at the empty basement room.
Grace’s bandage lay on the floor.
There was no blood, no sign of struggle, and no indication she had been taken by force.
Grace had walked out voluntarily.
Isabella replayed their conversation in her mind.
Grace had known about the hidden office, the ledgers, and Marcus’s nightly routine. She had known Marcus intended to move her before sunrise.
She had also directed Isabella toward Schedule E.
Perhaps she had never been Marcus’s prisoner.
Perhaps the locked room had been staged.
Isabella searched the walls and found a small microphone attached beneath the table. Everything she and Grace discussed had been transmitted to someone else.
She contacted Bennett.
“Do not approach Grace at the airfield. She may be working with whoever owns the jet.”
“We lost visual contact,” Bennett said. “The vehicle entered a private hangar.”
“Can you stop the aircraft?”
“Not without legal grounds.”
“Grace was supposedly held against her will.”
“Supposedly?”
Isabella explained the open room and the message.
Bennett swore quietly.
“You need to leave.”
“I still need my father.”
“I’m working on an emergency warrant. The medical records and room access controls may be enough, but it will take time.”
“Marcus may return before then.”
“Which is why you should not be there.”
Isabella looked toward the service corridor.
A shadow moved at the top of the basement stairs.
She ended the call and stepped behind a support column.
Dr. Rusk descended alone.
He carried a medical bag and moved directly toward the steel room. When he saw the open door, he froze.
“Grace?” he called.
Isabella emerged.
The doctor turned.
His face lost color.
“What are you doing down here?” he asked.
“Looking for my father’s physician.”
“I was told a staff member had fallen.”
“By whom?”
“Mrs. Mercer.”
“Vivian is upstairs.”
Dr. Rusk glanced toward the staircase.
Isabella positioned herself between him and the exit.
“What did Marcus ask you to increase by five milligrams?”
“I don’t know what you mean.”
“I have the recording.”
The doctor gripped his bag.
“Your father’s medications are appropriate for his condition.”
“Which condition?”
“Post-traumatic cognitive impairment.”
“Does that explain why you administered drugs before legal documents were signed?”
“I did no such thing.”
“Does it explain why Richard’s confusion became worse only when you were present?”
Dr. Rusk’s composure began to crack.
“You are not a physician.”
“No. I investigate people who hide crimes behind professional titles.”
He tried to move past her.
Isabella blocked him.
“Marcus is preparing to leave the country.”
“That has nothing to do with me.”
“He took the ledger containing your payments.”
The doctor stopped.
“He promised to destroy it,” Dr. Rusk said.
The admission came quietly, almost unconsciously.
Isabella watched the realization spread across his face.
“Tell me what happened the night of the accident,” she said.
Dr. Rusk looked toward the open room.
“If I speak, you cannot protect me.”
“I’m not promising to protect you. I’m offering you the chance to tell the truth before Marcus decides you are evidence.”
The doctor’s eyes moved toward the surveillance microphone.
Isabella crushed it beneath her shoe.
“Talk.”
Dr. Rusk lowered the medical bag.
He had met Marcus eight months earlier through a private clinic. Marcus offered him money to evaluate Richard for memory problems. At first, Rusk believed they were preparing a legitimate succession plan.
Then Marcus demanded stronger medication.
“I refused,” Rusk said. “He showed me records from my clinic. Billing problems. Prescription errors. He said he could destroy my career.”
“So you helped him destroy my father.”
“I monitored Richard. I tried to keep the dosages below a dangerous level.”
“You injected him tonight.”
“Because Marcus was watching through the clock.”
“Who installed that camera?”
“I don’t know.”
“Who ordered the brakes damaged?”
Dr. Rusk shook his head.
“Marcus claimed the accident happened before his plan began.”
“That is a lie.”
“I suspected it was.”
“What about Grace?”
The doctor looked confused.
“Grace disappeared months ago.”
“I spoke with her tonight.”
“That wasn’t Grace.”
Isabella felt the room tilt.
“What did you say?”
“Grace Holloway is dead.”
“No.”
“I treated her after Marcus’s men brought her to the clinic. She had a fractured wrist and a head injury. She escaped before I could transfer her. Two days later, the police found a woman’s body near the river.”
“There was no report.”
“Marcus paid to keep her identity out of the records.”
Isabella remembered the uneven haircut, the bandage, the tired face.
The woman had resembled Grace, but the basement had been dim. Isabella had wanted so badly to believe Grace was alive that she ignored the differences.
“Who was in that room?”
“I don’t know.”
“Whoever she was knew details only Grace would know.”
“Then Grace told her before she died.”
Footsteps sounded above them.
Dr. Rusk looked upward in panic.
“They know I’m here.”
“Who?”
“Marcus has men inside the house.”
The basement lights went out.
In the darkness, a door slammed.
Isabella heard Dr. Rusk running.
Then came the sound of a struggle near the staircase, followed by something heavy striking the floor.
“Doctor?”
No answer.
Isabella activated her phone light.
Dr. Rusk lay at the bottom of the stairs, unconscious but breathing. His medical bag had opened, scattering syringes and bottles across the floor.
A figure stood at the top of the staircase.
Vivian.
She held Richard’s walking cane.
“I didn’t do that,” Vivian said.
A second figure appeared behind her.
Marcus stepped into the light.
“You never know when to leave,” he said to Isabella.
Vivian turned toward him.
“You were at the airfield.”
“I changed my plans.”
“Where is the ledger?”
“Safe.”
“And the money?”
Marcus smiled.
“Also safe.”
Vivian raised the cane.
“You used me.”
Marcus took it from her without difficulty.
“You were willing to betray your husband. Do not pretend you are offended because I negotiated a better arrangement.”
Vivian looked toward Isabella.
For the first time, they both understood the same thing.
Marcus had returned to eliminate every person who could expose him.
He reached inside his coat.
Isabella expected a weapon.
Instead, he removed Richard’s medication bottle.
“Your father missed his evening dose,” Marcus said. “We should correct that.”
A voice came from the darkness behind him.
“No.”
Richard stood in the corridor, one hand against the wall.
May you like
He was weak, pale, and unsteady.
But he was holding Marcus’s black ledger.
