Chapter 3 - THE DEAD WOMAN’S PHOTOGRAPH
Dominic tore the photograph from Clara’s hand.
“No.”
His voice was barely human.
He stared at the image.
Evelyn stood beside the restrained bed wearing a hospital gown.
Her hair was shorter than Dominic remembered.
Her face looked thin.
Terrified.
But it was her.
On the back, someone had written a date.
Three months after her funeral.
Dominic turned toward Mrs. Hargrove.
“You buried my wife.”
Mrs. Hargrove’s breathing quickened.
“I arranged the funeral because you ordered me to.”
“I identified her body.”
“No.”
Dominic stopped.
“What?”
Mrs. Hargrove closed her eyes.
“You identified jewelry.”
Memory hit him.
A burned vehicle.
A body so damaged the medical examiner advised against viewing it.
Evelyn’s wedding ring.
Her necklace.
The watch he had given her on their anniversary.
He had believed what grief wanted him to believe.
Dominic moved so fast the guards barely reacted.
He grabbed Mrs. Hargrove by the collar.
“Where is my wife?”
“I don’t know!”
“You will know before you leave this room.”
Noah screamed.
Dominic looked down.
His son was curled behind Clara, hands over his ears.
Dominic released Mrs. Hargrove.
He stepped back.
Clara noticed another object beneath the bed.
A red plastic block.
A child’s toy.
She picked it up.
Noah stared at it.
Then pointed to himself.
“You were here?”
He nodded.
Dominic’s face hardened.
“When?”
Noah whispered, “Night.”
Clara continued gently.
“With Mommy?”
Another nod.
Mrs. Hargrove snapped, “Stop questioning him!”
Clara looked at her.
“Why?”
“He’s confused!”
“No.”
Noah said it louder this time.
Everyone turned.
“No.”
He pointed at Mrs. Hargrove.
“Bad.”
Dominic’s expression changed.
The house manager’s composure cracked.
“He was sick!”
Noah flinched.
Dominic stepped between them.
“What did you do to him?”
“We were helping him!”
“We?”
Mrs. Hargrove realized her mistake.
Too late.
Dominic stared toward the syringes.
“Who is ‘we’?”
She refused to answer.
Dominic looked at his security chief, Marcus.
“Lock the estate.”
Mrs. Hargrove’s head snapped up.
“Dominic—”
“First name means you’re scared.”
The iron gates closed.
Phones were collected.
Staff were ordered into the ballroom.
Every vehicle was blocked.
Dominic called his private physician.
Clara remained with Noah in the hidden room.
She found a faded sticker under the bed.
A cartoon astronaut.
Noah touched it.
“Mommy gave you that?”
He nodded.
Then his fingers moved toward the wall.
Clara heard it.
A hollow sound.
She knocked again.
Hollow.
“Mr. Vale.”
Dominic turned.
“There’s space behind this wall.”
Marcus brought a crowbar.
They tore away a section of decorative paneling.
Behind it was a narrow compartment.
Inside sat a metal box.
Dominic forced the lid open.
Files.
Videotapes.
A burner phone.
And one envelope.
DOMINIC.
He knew the handwriting.
His hands started trembling before he opened it.
The letter contained only one sentence.
If you are reading this, they failed to kill me the first time.
May you like
Dominic looked up.
Then the burner phone inside the box began to ring.
