Chapter 4 - Beneath the Estate
Grant grabbed Lily and carried her toward the stairs.
I followed with the drawing pressed against my chest.
Emergency lights flickered along the hallway.
Smoke curled from the vents in thin gray streams.
The fire alarm screamed through the estate.
“West exit,” Grant ordered.
Staff members emerged from rooms throughout the house.
Cooks.
Servers.
The gala coordinator.
Two musicians who had arrived early.
Everyone moved toward the rear courtyard.
Detective Ruiz intercepted us at the landing.
“Where is the fire?”
“Basement,” Grant said.
Ruiz looked at Lily.
“Take her outside.”
Grant hesitated.
“I am not leaving her.”
“Then stay with her.”
“I’m going downstairs,” I said.
Grant turned toward me.
“No.”
“The basement stairs are beside the laundry room.”
“I know the layout better than the officers.”
“You are not running into another dangerous situation.”
“There may be evidence connected to your wife’s death.”
“And you may die trying to save it.”
Ruiz handed the drawing to another officer.
“Both of you go outside.”
Then she disappeared down the service stairs with two firefighters.
Grant carried Lily into the courtyard.
Rain had become heavier.
The gala tents shuddered beneath the wind.
Guests had not yet arrived.
The estate staff stood together beneath the stone veranda.
Lily clung to Grant’s neck.
Her eyes remained fixed on the lower windows.
“Someone is down there,” I said.
Grant nodded.
“Mercer knows every entrance.”
“Why would your security chief help Renata?”
“I don’t know.”
“Did he work for you when Claire died?”
“Yes.”
“How long?”
“Almost twelve years.”
That answer frightened me more than anything else.
Mercer had been trusted.
He had access to the cars.
The cameras.
The gates.
He could have hidden a crime and spent two years making sure no one discovered it.
Flames appeared behind a narrow basement window.
Firefighters rushed around the west wing.
Grant’s phone rang.
He answered.
His expression changed immediately.
“What do you mean she has been discharged?”
I stepped closer.
“What happened?”
Grant ended the call.
“Your mother’s dialysis clinic says her insurance was terminated this afternoon.”
My chest tightened.
“That is impossible.”
“The policy was connected to your employment.”
“I haven’t been formally fired.”
“Someone submitted termination paperwork in your name.”
Renata had promised to destroy me.
She had started before leaving the house.
“My mother has treatment tomorrow.”
“I will pay for it.”
I shook my head.
“No.”
“This is not charity.”
“She is being targeted because you protected my daughter.”
Grant looked at me directly.
“That makes it my responsibility.”
Before I could argue, Detective Ruiz emerged from the basement.
Soot covered her jacket.
A firefighter followed carrying a scorched metal box.
“We contained it to one storage room,” Ruiz said.
“Someone used an accelerant.”
Grant looked toward the box.
“What was inside?”
“Vehicle maintenance records.”
My heart began pounding.
“From the year Claire died?”
“Some of them.”
Ruiz opened the lid carefully.
Most of the files had burned.
One folder near the bottom was only partially damaged.
The label was still readable.
CALLAHAN, CLAIRE — MERCEDES GLE.
Grant reached for it.
Ruiz pulled it back.
“This is evidence now.”
He lowered his hand.
“What does it say?”
“We will need to examine it.”
A firefighter approached.
“We found someone unconscious near the service tunnel.”
Grant looked toward the basement entrance.
“Mercer?”
“No.”
Two paramedics emerged carrying a woman on a stretcher.
She was older, perhaps in her early sixties.
Her clothes were dirty.
Her wrists were marked with deep bruises.
An oxygen mask covered her face.
Grant stared at her.
“Margaret?”
The woman’s eyes opened.
She saw Grant.
Panic exploded across her face.
She ripped the oxygen mask away.
“Lily,” she gasped.
Grant tightened his hold on his daughter.
“She is safe.”
Margaret began crying.
“No.”
“No, she isn’t.”
Ruiz moved closer.
“Who did this to you?”
Margaret looked toward the burning basement window.
“Renata.”
Grant went still.
“You know her?”
Margaret nodded weakly.
“I knew her before Claire died.”
Grant’s face seemed to lose all color.
“She came here that night.”
“The night of the accident?”
Margaret’s eyes closed.
“Yes.”
“She and Mercer were in the garage.”
“I saw them near Claire’s car.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
Margaret began shaking.
“They had my son.”
Grant stared at her.
“What?”
“They said they would kill him.”
“They made me leave.”
“They kept watching us.”
Ruiz crouched beside the stretcher.
“Where is your son now?”
Margaret opened her eyes.
“They took him again three days ago.”
“Why?”
“Because Lily started drawing.”
Grant looked at his daughter.
Margaret’s voice weakened.
“Renata knew she remembered.”
The paramedics tried to replace her mask.
She fought them.
“There is something else.”
Ruiz leaned closer.
“What?”
Margaret stared at Grant.
“Claire’s death was not only about Renata.”
“She was working for someone inside your company.”
Grant’s expression hardened.
“Who?”
Before Margaret could answer, a gunshot echoed from the trees beyond the courtyard.
The stretcher jolted.
Margaret gasped.
A red stain spread across the blanket covering her shoulder.
Staff members screamed.
Grant dropped behind the stone railing with Lily.
Ruiz drew her weapon.
I threw myself over Margaret as a second bullet shattered the glass door behind us.
May you like
Somewhere in the darkness beyond the estate, a shooter was watching.
And Margaret had nearly spoken the name of the person who had ordered Claire’s death.
