Chapter 2 - The Portrait With the Missing Child)
Mrs. Doyle would not say another word.
She hurried away before Ethan could stop her.
He considered forcing the issue.
Instead, he returned to his room.
In business, pressure worked best when the other side did not know how much you knew.
At two fifteen in the morning Ethan called Marcus again.
"You still awake?"
"I work for you."
"Find every photograph you can of Claire Bennett."
A pause.
"Why?"
"Because I think she may be inside this house."
Marcus laughed once.
Then stopped.
"You're serious."
"Completely."
"Ethan, if you think someone is being held against their will, call the police."
"I will."
"Now."
"Not until I know what I'm looking at."
"That is an exceptionally bad sentence."
"Get the photographs."
Marcus sighed.
"I'll call you."
Ethan left his room again.
This time he went downstairs.
The main library occupied the north side of the ground floor.
Hundreds of leather bound books lined shelves stretching from floor to ceiling.
Family photographs covered one wall.
Ethan turned on a small reading lamp.
He began examining them.
Vivian at charity dinners.
Grant at boarding school.
The late Eleanor Bennett as a young woman.
Claire appeared in three photographs.
In the first she was a baby.
In the second, around three.
In the third, five years old.
The picture had been taken on the lawn outside Ashford Manor.
Claire stood beside Vivian.
The little girl had dark blonde hair.
Wide gray blue eyes.
A small crescent shaped mark near her right eyebrow.
Ethan remembered the pale hand taking food through the hatch.
His phone vibrated.
Marcus.
"I found a police archive image."
"Send it."
The photograph appeared seconds later.
Claire at age five.
Same eyes.
Same mark.
"What else?"
"The disappearance was bizarre."
"How?"
"Vivian said Claire wandered away during a summer garden party."
"From this house?"
"Yes."
"Search?"
"Massive. Dogs. Helicopters. Volunteers. Coast Guard because of the cliffs."
"Body?"
"Never found."
"Any suspects?"
"One groundskeeper questioned. Cleared."
"Family?"
"Vivian was portrayed as devastated."
Ethan stared at the photograph.
"Of course she was."
Marcus lowered his voice.
"There's more. Claire's trust becomes irrevocably controlled by Claire herself at age twenty five if she is alive and mentally competent."
Ethan looked toward the library door.
"She's twenty five now."
"Her birthday was three months ago."
"And if she's legally dead?"
"A final transfer petition becomes possible after her twenty fifth birthday."
"To whom?"
Marcus exhaled.
"Vivian Ashford and Grant Ashford."
Ethan's eyes narrowed.
"Has the petition been filed?"
"Sealed probate proceeding. Two weeks ago."
Now the dinner invitation made sense.
Vivian needed money because something was happening.
Maybe legal expenses.
Maybe debts.
Maybe she was preparing to gain control of Claire's fortune.
"Ethan?"
"I'm here."
"Get out."
"Not yet."
"You're in a house with people who may have hidden a missing child for twenty years."
"Which means leaving without her would be a problem."
Marcus swore.
"Call me every twenty minutes."
Ethan ended the call.
A soft voice came from the doorway.
"You should listen to him."
Mrs. Doyle stood there.
She had removed her apron.
She looked older than Ethan had realized.
"How long?" he asked.
She closed the door behind her.
"Twenty years."
The answer felt impossible even though he had expected it.
"Claire?"
Mrs. Doyle nodded.
"She's alive?"
"Yes."
"Why didn't you call anyone?"
"I tried."
"When?"
"The first year."
"What happened?"
Mrs. Doyle's eyes filled.
"My husband lost his job. My son was arrested on false theft charges. Vivian told me next time it would be worse."
"So you kept feeding a child behind a wall."
"I brought food. Books when I could. Medicine."
"That doesn't answer me."
"No."
Mrs. Doyle's face crumpled.
"It doesn't."
Ethan kept his voice low.
"Where exactly is she?"
"Behind the east corridor. The hidden room connects to an old servants' passage."
"Locked?"
"From outside."
"Can Claire leave the room?"
"Sometimes Vivian lets her into an enclosed attic courtyard for sunlight."
"Does she know who she is?"
"Some of it."
"What does she think happened?"
Mrs. Doyle looked toward the door.
"Vivian told her the world believed she murdered her mother."
Ethan stared at her.
"Claire was five."
"Vivian told her police were waiting to lock her away."
"Why would a child believe that for twenty years?"
"Because when you're five and the woman feeding you says everyone outside wants to hurt you, the world becomes whatever she says it is."
Ethan felt anger rising.
"Why keep Claire alive?"
Mrs. Doyle whispered, "Because Vivian needed her signature."
"For what?"
"I don't know."
The library door suddenly opened.
Grant stood there.
Mrs. Doyle froze.
Grant looked from her to Ethan.
"What are you two discussing?"
Ethan smiled calmly.
"Your family history."
Grant's eyes shifted to the photograph of Claire on the table.
The silence lasted too long.
Ethan touched the frame.
"Beautiful child."
Grant said nothing.
"Terrible what happened."
Grant forced a smile.
"Yes."
"Your cousin?"
"Yes."
"You remember her?"
"I was eighteen."
"Must have been difficult."
"It was."
Mrs. Doyle quietly left.
Grant watched her go.
Then he turned back.
"You should get some sleep."
"I probably should."
Grant reached for the photograph.
Ethan stopped his hand.
"Interesting thing about missing people."
Grant looked at him.
"What's that?"
"Sometimes everyone searches in the wrong direction."
For the first time, Grant's pleasant expression disappeared completely.
"Ethan."
"Yes?"
"Stay out of the east wing."
The warning was no longer polite.
Grant walked away.
Ethan waited until his footsteps faded.
Then he noticed something behind the picture frame.
A small folded piece of paper had been taped to the back.
He removed it.
The handwriting was old.
Childish.
Two words.
HELP CLAIRE.
May you like
Underneath was a rough drawing of a staircase.
And beside it, a small circle marking a door behind the library shelves.
