Chapter 9 - The Night the Lake House Went Dark
The darkness was complete.
Claire heard Hélène gasp.
A chair struck the floor.
Margaret called her daughter’s name.
“I’m here.”
“Do not move,” Antoine said.
Luca’s phone light appeared, casting a narrow beam across the dining room.
The brass key was still in Claire’s hand.
“Someone was outside,” she whispered.
“Where?”
“Near the side windows.”
Antoine moved toward the kitchen.
“Stay together.”
A crash came from the study.
Luca turned the light.
The terrace doors stood open.
Wind moved the curtains.
The leather envelope was gone.
“So is the recorder,” Élodie said.
Claire looked down.
She had been holding the key so tightly that its edges had marked her palm.
“They did not get this.”
A motor started near the dock.
Antoine ran outside.
Luca followed.
By the time they reached the terrace, the dark wooden boat was moving away from the pier.
Another smaller boat sped across the lake ahead of it.
“Someone took mine,” Antoine said.
The lake house lights flickered back on.
Hélène stood in the doorway, pale.
“The power panel is in the basement. Someone had access to the house.”
Margaret looked at her.
“Who knew we were here?”
“Family staff. Philippe’s office. The property manager.”
“And Armand Voss?” Claire asked.
Hélène did not answer.
Luca called the police.
The nearest station was more than forty minutes away.
Antoine returned to the study and searched the shelves.
The documents he had displayed remained on the table.
Only the leather envelope and the recordings were missing.
“They knew exactly what to take,” he said.
Élodie sat near the fireplace.
She looked strangely calm.
“You made copies,” Margaret said.
“Of the documents.”
“Not the recordings?”
Élodie reached beneath her scarf.
A thin chain hung around her neck.
Attached to it was a memory card inside a clear protective case.
“I am old, not foolish.”
Antoine stared at her.
“You told me the recorder was the only copy.”
“I did not know who would betray whom tonight.”
Her eyes moved from Antoine to Hélène.
No one objected.
Claire examined the key.
A number had been engraved along one side.
417-93-8.
Antoine photographed it.
“We should leave before whoever entered returns.”
Margaret agreed.
But the tires on all three remaining vehicles had been cut.
The landline no longer worked.
Cell signal returned intermittently, too weak for a stable call.
The intruder had not merely stolen the envelope.
Someone wanted them trapped.
They locked the doors.
Luca found an old hunting rifle in a cabinet, but Margaret insisted it remain unloaded unless there was clear danger.
“No one here knows how to use it safely.”
“I do,” Antoine said.
That raised another set of questions no one had time to ask.
They gathered in the living room.
Claire sat beside Luca but did not take his hand.
He looked at her.
“I swear I did not know how we met was arranged.”
“I believe you.”
Relief moved across his face.
“But believing you does not make everything normal.”
“I know.”
“Do you?”
He looked down.
“My name may not be my name. My parents stole me. My biological father watched me from a distance. My entire career was built inside a company I legally own because a criminal used me as a financial shield.”
Claire’s expression softened.
“I am sorry.”
“I do not need you to apologize.”
“What do you need?”
“I do not know.”
That honesty hurt less than false reassurance would have.
Across the room, Margaret confronted Hélène.
“Did Philippe order the theft?”
“I do not know.”
“You were married to him for thirty-five years.”
“That does not mean I knew him.”
“You knew enough to lie for him.”
Hélène lowered her eyes.
“I believed silence protected Luca.”
“It protected you.”
“Yes.”
The admission surprised Margaret.
Hélène looked older than she had at dinner.
“I was afraid he would hate me.”
“He might.”
“I know.”
“What else have you hidden?”
Hélène hesitated.
“Philippe received a letter last month.”
“From Julien?”
“No. From David Bennett.”
Margaret stood.
“Claire’s father?”
Hélène nodded.
“He asked Philippe to meet him in Montreal.”
“Did they meet?”
“Yes.”
“How do you know?”
“I followed Philippe.”
Claire had been listening.
“What happened?”
“I saw them enter a hotel. Philippe came out alone two hours later.”
“And my father?”
“I never saw him leave.”
A sound came from the second floor.
A floorboard creaked.
Everyone looked upward.
Luca lifted the rifle.
Antoine took a fireplace poker.
The sound came again.
May you like
Slow footsteps crossed the hallway above them.
But everyone who belonged in the house was already in the living room.
