Chapter 5 - Room 317
The east wing smelled like dust and cedar.
Arthur unlocked the main door using an old servant’s key.
Clara followed him through rooms covered with white sheets.
Her mother’s belongings were everywhere.
Paintings.
Books.
Boxes of clothes.
Daniel had lied.
He had donated nothing.
“He was hiding her,” Clara whispered.
“Or hiding something she owned.”
They found Evelyn’s writing desk in the final room.
Clara ran toward it.
The upper drawers were empty.
Then she saw tiny brass numbers inside the lower section.
312.
313.
314.
Her hands shook.
317.
She inserted the key.
The compartment opened.
Inside was an envelope.
Arthur removed it carefully.
Three words were written across the front.
FOR MY CLARA.
Clara opened it.
Inside was a photograph of Evelyn standing beside a red storage locker.
On the back were six numbers.
Arthur recognized the location immediately.
“Grand Central Station.”
Clara looked confused.
“Your mother used private luggage storage there whenever she traveled.”
A second item fell from the envelope.
A memory card.
Arthur looked at it.
“This may be what she was protecting.”
They found an old laptop in the room.
Arthur inserted the card.
Several folders appeared.
BANK.
TRUST.
VANESSA.
DANIEL.
And one labeled NIGHT.
Clara clicked it.
A video appeared.
The recording came from Evelyn’s home office security camera.
The timestamp showed three nights before the crash.
Daniel entered.
Vanessa followed.
They believed the house was empty.
Vanessa placed documents on the desk.
Daniel signed Evelyn’s name.
Clara stopped breathing.
Then Vanessa kissed him.
Not the quick kiss of a new relationship.
It was familiar.
Intimate.
Old.
Arthur stared at the screen.
“The affair began before your mother disappeared.”
The video continued.
Daniel said, “Once the trust amendment is registered, Evelyn becomes irrelevant.”
Vanessa replied, “Unless she discovers it first.”
Daniel smiled.
“Then we make sure she can’t stop us.”
Clara’s skin turned cold.
Suddenly the laptop screen went black.
Arthur frowned.
The lights in the room went out.
Then the east-wing door slammed shut somewhere behind them.
Clara grabbed Arthur.
“Power failure?”
Arthur listened.
“No.”
Footsteps moved through the dark corridor.
Slowly.
May you like
Deliberately.
Someone else was inside the east wing.
