Chapter 8 - The Fire in the Records Room
Claire ran to the east-wing door and pounded on it.
“Oliver!”
No one answered.
Smoke began creeping beneath the door.
Diane was burning the records.
Claire returned to the vent.
“Who are you?”
The woman behind the wall coughed.
“My name is Ruth.”
“How do I reach you?”
“There’s a passage behind the cabinets.”
Claire pulled open drawers and threw files onto the floor.
Smoke thickened in the corridor.
She shoved one cabinet.
It did not move.
“Which one?”
“Claire!”
Mark’s voice came from beyond the locked door.
She ran back.
“I’m trapped!”
“Move away!”
A heavy impact struck the door.
Again.
On the third blow, the frame splintered.
Oliver burst through with the fireplace poker.
Mark followed, blood running from his forehead.
“Where is Diane?” Claire asked.
“She took Vale and left through the garage,” Mark said.
“Ruth is behind the wall.”
Mark froze.
“Who?”
“A woman named Ruth.”
Claire pulled him toward the records room.
Together, they pushed the cabinet aside.
Behind it was a narrow metal door.
Oliver forced it open.
A passage descended between the walls.
Smoke poured from the office.
“Fire first,” Oliver said. “We need to get out.”
“No,” Claire answered. “She may not be able to walk.”
Oliver took off his jacket and wrapped it around his face.
“I’ll go.”
Claire caught his arm.
“Be careful.”
He disappeared into the passage.
Mark stood staring at the opening.
“Ruth,” he whispered.
“You know her.”
“She was Elena’s sister.”
Claire turned.
“You told me Elena had no family.”
“That’s what my mother said.”
“You believed everything she told you.”
Mark looked at the files scattered across the floor.
“No. I believed what allowed me to survive.”
Claire had no time to answer.
Flames appeared at the far end of the corridor.
Mark grabbed an armful of files.
Claire did the same.
They carried them toward the main house.
The foyer was filled with smoke.
The front door stood open.
The alarm screamed.
Outside, a black car sped through the gates.
Diane was escaping.
Mark started after it.
Claire stopped him.
“Help Oliver.”
They returned to the east wing.
Oliver emerged from the passage carrying a thin woman in his arms.
Ruth’s hair had been cut close to her scalp. Her face was pale, and her wrists were covered in old scars. She looked toward Mark and began to panic.
“No. No, keep him away.”
Mark stepped back.
“I’m not going to hurt you.”
“You left us.”
“I thought you were dead.”
Ruth stared at him.
“That is what she wanted you to think.”
A section of the ceiling collapsed behind them.
They ran.
Outside, rain had begun to fall.
Oliver carried Ruth across the lawn while Claire dragged the salvaged files behind her in a tablecloth.
Mark called emergency services.
Within minutes, fire engines entered the estate.
Police arrived soon afterward.
Claire told the first officer about the cellar, the restraints, the medical ward, and Diane’s escape.
The officer listened carefully.
Then another patrol car arrived.
A senior detective stepped out.
Mark’s face changed.
“What is it?” Claire asked.
“That man works with my mother.”
Detective Paul Mercer approached.
He looked at the burning east wing, then at Claire.
“Mrs. Bennett,” he said, “we received a report that you attacked your mother-in-law and set fire to her home.”
Claire felt the old trap closing around her.
Mercer turned toward Mark.
“Your signed statement says your wife has suffered violent delusions.”
Oliver stepped between them.
“We have a witness.”
Ruth had been placed inside an ambulance.
Mercer glanced toward her.
Diane’s files lay on the wet grass.
The detective’s gaze lingered on them.
Then he smiled.
“I’ll take care of the evidence.”
Claire understood immediately.
She pulled the tablecloth toward herself.
“No.”
Mercer’s smile vanished.
“Those materials belong to an active investigation.”
“An investigation controlled by Diane?”
Two uniformed officers moved closer.
Mark stepped beside Claire.
For the first time, he did not lower his head.
“My mother paid you,” he said.
Mercer looked at him coldly.
“Be careful.”
Mark lifted his phone.
Its screen showed an active audio recording.
“You first.”
Mercer’s face tightened.
Ruth screamed from inside the ambulance.
Everyone turned.
A paramedic stumbled backward through the open doors.
Ruth was holding a scalpel to her own throat.
“Don’t let them take me,” she cried.
Claire approached slowly.
“No one is taking you back.”
Ruth’s eyes locked on Mercer.
“He helped bury Elena.”
Mercer reached for his weapon.
Oliver saw it.
May you like
So did Claire.
But Mark moved first.
