Chapter 5 - The Box Beneath the Floor
By the time they returned to the Hart residence, smoke was pouring from the upstairs windows.
Firefighters crowded the lawn. Neighbors stood beneath umbrellas recording the scene. Malcolm shouted at a police officer near the driveway while Lorraine sat wrapped in a blanket inside an ambulance.
Vivian left Elena inside the sedan with instructions to remain hidden.
Elise followed Vivian toward the house.
“What happened?” Vivian asked the nearest officer.
“Fire started in the second-floor office. The occupants were outside when the alarm activated.”
“Was anything removed?”
The officer looked toward Malcolm.
“He claims no.”
Malcolm saw Vivian.
“You did this.”
Vivian ignored him.
“Where is the metal box?”
His anger faltered.
“What box?”
“The one beneath your office floor.”
“There is no box.”
Elise stepped closer.
“Mr. Hart, destruction or concealment of trust property after a preservation notice is a felony.”
Malcolm laughed bitterly.
“Your threats don’t frighten me.”
Lorraine suddenly shouted from the ambulance.
“He took it.”
Malcolm spun around.
“Shut up.”
Lorraine pulled the blanket tighter around herself.
“He made me help him lift the floor panel. He took a black case and carried it through the back door.”
Malcolm lunged toward her.
Two officers restrained him.
“You stupid woman.”
Lorraine began sobbing.
“You said Vivian was going to put us in prison.”
“She will now.”
Vivian walked toward her mother.
“Where did he take it?”
“I don’t know.”
“You helped him.”
“He put it in the trunk.”
“Which car?”
“The blue one.”
Vivian looked at the driveway.
Both family vehicles remained parked near the garage.
“The blue sedan is here.”
Lorraine shook her head.
“Not ours. A man was waiting behind the alley.”
“What man?”
“I couldn’t see his face.”
Malcolm continued struggling against the officers.
“You are destroying everything.”
Vivian faced him.
“What did you give them?”
“Nothing.”
“What is the primary ledger?”
His expression froze.
Lorraine looked between them.
“Malcolm?”
He said nothing.
Lorraine slowly stood.
“You told me the box contained adoption papers.”
Malcolm glared at her.
“You never needed to know.”
“You said it proved she wasn’t ours.”
“Lorraine.”
“What did you give them?”
“Be quiet.”
Lorraine struck him across the face.
Everyone fell silent.
For thirty-two years, Lorraine had obeyed Malcolm whenever his voice carried that tone.
Tonight, she struck him again.
“You said they would protect us.”
Malcolm’s cheek reddened.
“They protected us until Vivian became greedy.”
Vivian almost responded, but Elise touched her arm.
A firefighter was approaching with a clear evidence bag.
“We recovered this near the office,” he said.
Inside the bag was a small fragment of black metal.
The seven-line symbol remained visible on its surface.
Elise photographed it.
Vivian turned to Malcolm.
“Who was waiting in the alley?”
He smiled.
“You should ask your dead aunt.”
Vivian felt a chill.
“Miriam?”
Malcolm’s smile widened.
“She was always terrible at staying buried.”
Elise looked sharply at him.
“You know she is alive?”
“Was.”
Vivian stepped closer.
“What does that mean?”
Malcolm lowered his voice.
“It means you arrived at St. Orison too late.”
Vivian struck him.
The sound cracked through the rain.
Malcolm stared at her in disbelief.
She had never hit him.
Even when he slapped her at seventeen for hiding scholarship applications.
Even when he grabbed her by the throat at twenty-four because she refused to guarantee one of his loans.
Even when he threw a glass near her head after learning she had created the trust.
She had never hit him.
“You will tell me where Miriam is,” Vivian said.
Malcolm touched his split lip and laughed.
“Now you finally look like a Vale.”
The police placed him inside a patrol car.
Lorraine called Vivian’s name.
Vivian did not turn.
She returned to the sedan.
Elena sat in the back seat with her hood pulled low.
“The box is gone,” Vivian said.
“Then we have less time than I feared.”
“My father knows Miriam was alive.”
Elena’s eyes narrowed.
“He said we arrived too late.”
Elena took out an old phone and entered a coded number.
No one answered.
She tried again.
Then a third time.
“What is it?” Vivian asked.
“Miriam checks in every six hours.”
“When was the last time?”
“Seven hours ago.”
Elise entered the driver’s seat.
“Where is she?”
Elena gave her an address.
They drove to a narrow townhouse near the river.
The front door stood open.
Inside, furniture had been overturned. Blood marked the hallway wall.
Vivian found a broken pair of glasses near the stairs.
She recognized them.
Miriam had worn the same tortoiseshell frames when Vivian was a child.
Elena searched the rooms.
“She’s gone.”
Elise knelt beside the blood.
“Not all of this is hers.”
A man lay unconscious behind the kitchen island. His black tactical clothing matched the men from the hospital.
Elise checked his pulse.
“Alive.”
They bound his hands.
Vivian searched his pockets and found a folded note.
It contained two lines.
DELIVER MIRIAM TO SITE 7.
THE BENEFICIARY WILL FOLLOW.
A sound came from the basement.
Three slow knocks.
Then two.
Then three again.
Elena ran to the door.
“Miriam?”
The knocking stopped.
Elise opened the basement cautiously.
The stairs descended into darkness.
At the bottom, they found a chair facing an old television.
No one occupied it.
The television switched on by itself.
A live video filled the screen.
Miriam sat bound to a chair in a concrete room. Blood ran from her temple. Behind her stood a digital clock counting down from eleven hours.
A masked man moved into view.
“Vivian Vale,” he said, looking directly into the camera. “Bring the key from St. Orison and your parents to Bellweather Courthouse.”
Vivian stared at the screen.
“The courthouse burned down.”
May you like
The masked man tilted his head.
“Only the part above ground.”
