Chapter 6 - The Statement Mark Signed
Mark stood between Oliver and the only exit.
“Put the poker down,” he said.
Oliver tightened his grip.
“Open the door.”
“Everyone needs to calm down.”
Claire stared at her husband.
“Your mother tried to drug me.”
Mark looked at Diane.
She held the empty vial loosely in one hand.
“She became violent,” Diane said. “Vale restrained her for her own protection.”
Oliver pointed toward the hidden staircase.
“You built a cell under the kitchen.”
“It was a wine cellar.”
“With leather restraints?”
“For medical emergencies.”
Oliver gave a disbelieving laugh.
“Open the door, Mark.”
Mark did not move.
Diane stepped beside her son.
“Claire has been suffering from delusions. Mark signed a statement this morning confirming it.”
Claire looked at him.
“What statement?”
Mark’s face collapsed.
Diane walked to the dining table and lifted a document from a folder.
She read aloud.
“My wife, Claire Bennett, has displayed paranoia, aggression, false memories, and threats of self-harm. I believe temporary private care is necessary for her safety.”
Oliver’s expression turned murderous.
“You signed that?”
Mark whispered, “She said it was the only way to delay the debt collection.”
“You declared your wife mentally unstable for money?”
“I was going to destroy it later.”
Diane held up the paper.
“You signed three copies.”
Claire felt strangely calm.
The betrayal was so complete that anger could no longer contain it.
She walked toward Mark.
He flinched before she touched him.
“You knew about the room downstairs,” she said.
“No.”
“You knew she was locking the doors.”
“I found out this morning.”
“You left anyway.”
“I was trying to get help.”
“You went to a meeting.”
“I went to the bank.”
Oliver stepped forward.
Mark raised both hands.
“Listen to me. My mother has transferred money through accounts in my name. If I call the police without proof, she gives them the statement and says Claire is unstable. Then she disappears the records and blames everything on me.”
“You already blamed everything on Claire,” Oliver said.
A low alarm began sounding somewhere in the house.
Diane turned toward Vale.
He had recovered and was holding a small remote control.
“What did you do?” Mark demanded.
Vale touched his injured arm.
“Activated the perimeter.”
Metal shutters began descending over the ground-floor windows.
Oliver ran toward the front door.
Mark blocked him.
“Move.”
“If you go outside now, the security system records you as an intruder.”
“I am an intruder.”
“My mother will claim you broke in and attacked her employee.”
“I did break in, and I’ll do worse if you don’t open this door.”
Claire grabbed Oliver’s arm.
“Wait.”
She looked around the foyer.
The house had cameras.
Diane had always watched everything.
That meant there might be recordings of the basement, the locked doors, the vial, and the threats.
“Where is the security office?” Claire asked.
Diane’s eyes narrowed.
Mark looked toward the east wing.
Claire saw it.
“The cameras are controlled from there.”
“No,” Mark said.
“Open the east wing.”
“I don’t have the key.”
Diane turned to Vale.
“Take them downstairs.”
Vale stepped forward.
Oliver raised the poker.
Mark suddenly moved.
He did not attack Oliver.
He grabbed Diane’s wrist and twisted the ring of keys from her hand.
Diane slapped him hard across the face.
“You pathetic little coward.”
Mark stumbled but held on to the keys.
Vale lunged.
Oliver intercepted him.
The two men crashed into the dining table.
Claire caught the keys as Mark threw them.
“East wing,” he shouted.
She ran.
Diane followed.
Claire reached the locked corridor and tried the first key.
Wrong.
The second would not turn.
Behind her, Diane’s footsteps drew closer.
Claire tried a third.
The lock clicked.
She pushed the door open and entered darkness.
Diane stopped on the other side.
For the first time, fear crossed her face.
“Claire,” she said softly. “Do not go in there.”
Claire backed into the corridor.
“You said it was empty.”
“It is.”
“Then why are you afraid?”
Diane’s expression changed from fear to hatred.
“Because some doors cannot be closed twice.”
Claire turned on the wall light.
The east wing was not under renovation.
It was a private medical ward.
Four doors lined the corridor.
One stood open.
Inside was a hospital bed.
Leather straps hung from its sides.
May you like
On the wall above it, someone had scratched a message into the plaster.
MARK PROMISED HE WOULD COME BACK.
