Chapter 4 - THE LOCKED NURSERY
Victoria had kept Rosalind’s nursery closed after the disappearance. Charles said the room upset her, and he was right. She had opened it only twice in eight years.
But it had never been locked.
Or so she thought.
At dawn, Victoria returned to the Hale house with Detective Bell and two officers. Rosie remained at the station with a child specialist. Bruno stayed nearby. Charles had gone in a separate car after agreeing to answer more questions.
The house was quiet. The staff had been told to stay home.
Victoria climbed the stairs to the nursery. The brass handle turned, but the door would not open.
“I don’t understand,” she said.
Bell showed her the small key recovered from Ada.
It fit.
The room smelled faintly of dust and the lavender soap Victoria had once bought for Rosalind. Stuffed animals sat on the shelves. A painted wooden horse stood beside the bed.
At first, nothing seemed different.
Then Victoria saw the wall behind the closet.
Someone had put up a new panel. The paint was close to the original color, but not close enough.
An officer photographed it. Bell had the panel removed.
Behind it stood a narrow steel door.
Victoria gripped the closet frame. “What is that?”
“A safe,” Bell said.
Inside were folders, a small hard drive, and a stack of receipts. The top folder contained invoices from a private pediatric clinic. Each bill listed the patient as R. Ortiz.
The earliest date was eight years ago, eleven days after Rosalind had supposedly drowned.
Victoria sat down on the nursery floor.
Bell crouched beside her. “We’ll confirm what these mean.”
Victoria pointed at the first bill. “I know what it means.”
The clinic address was in a town two hours away. Someone had paid for Rosalind’s care after the funeral. The account name at the bottom was Charles Hale.
Bell took the documents. “Why keep these here?”
A floorboard creaked behind them.
Charles stood in the doorway.
“I didn’t,” he said. “Lena did.”
Bell rose. “You need to stay downstairs.”
Charles looked past her at Victoria. “Lena came back here six months ago. She broke in. She hid all of that to make it look like I knew.”
Victoria picked up a receipt. “She hid eight years of payments in your locked nursery?”
“I can explain the payments.”
“Then do it.”
Charles’s gaze moved to the officers. “With my attorney present.”
Victoria’s phone vibrated. A message had arrived from an unknown number.
A photograph filled the screen: Rosie asleep in what looked like a bare bedroom, a few years younger. On the wall behind her was a small window with bars.
Below it, one sentence:
ASK HIM WHO OWNED THE HOUSE ON BRIAR ROAD.
Victoria showed Bell.
Charles took one step back. Bell noticed.
“Do you know that house?” she asked.
Charles said nothing.
May you like
A second message appeared.
I CAN SHOW YOU WHERE LENA REALLY DIED.
