Chapter 2 - THE NORTH WING
Dominic reached for his gun.
Clara had never seen a man move so quickly from shock to violence.
“Marcus.”
“Sir.”
“Lock the estate.”
Marcus touched his earpiece.
“Nobody enters.”
Dominic's eyes remained on the dark doorway upstairs.
“Nobody leaves.”
Mrs. Hargrove's face changed.
It was subtle.
But Clara saw it.
Fear.
Real fear.
Dominic started toward the staircase.
Mrs. Hargrove grabbed his arm.
“Don't.”
Dominic looked down at her hand.
She released him immediately.
“What is inside that wing?”
“Nothing.”
The humming continued.
Dominic's eyes darkened.
“That doesn't sound like nothing.”
“It could be a recording.”
“Then somebody turned it on.”
Mrs. Hargrove said nothing.
Dominic climbed the stairs.
Marcus followed.
Clara remained beside Noah.
The boy was trembling.
She crouched.
“You don't have to go.”
Noah looked at Dominic.
Then at the doorway.
He whispered one word.
“Daddy.”
Dominic stopped halfway up the stairs.
For a moment, the feared billionaire looked like somebody had driven a knife through his chest.
He slowly turned.
Noah had not called him Daddy since Elena died.
Dominic came back down.
He knelt.
“What is it, buddy?”
Noah pointed upstairs.
“Don't.”
Dominic swallowed.
“Why?”
Noah's eyes filled with tears.
“Lady.”
“What lady?”
Noah looked at Mrs. Hargrove.
Then he covered his mouth with both hands.
Clara's stomach twisted.
Someone had taught him not to speak.
She gently touched the floor beside his shoe.
Not him.
Just close enough to remind him she was there.
“Noah, did someone tell you not to talk?”
The boy nodded.
Dominic's face became terrifyingly calm.
“Who?”
Noah shook his head violently.
Mrs. Hargrove spoke.
“This interrogation is harmful.”
Clara turned on her.
“He's four.”
“Exactly.”
“So why does he act like someone will punish him for answering?”
Mrs. Hargrove stared at her.
“You have been employed here for less than an hour.”
“And I've already noticed something eighteen nannies apparently didn't.”
Mrs. Hargrove stepped toward her.
Dominic blocked her path.
“Enough.”
Marcus returned with two guards.
“North wing is clear to the first junction.”
“To the first junction?”
“The steel door beyond the old nursery is locked.”
Dominic frowned.
“What steel door?”
Marcus looked uncomfortable.
“You didn't know?”
Dominic's expression answered him.
Mrs. Hargrove closed her eyes.
Dominic turned toward her.
“Keys.”
She remained still.
“Now.”
Marcus searched her pockets.
Nothing.
Clara noticed Mrs. Hargrove's left hand.
It remained closed.
“Her hand.”
Everyone looked.
Mrs. Hargrove tried to step backward.
Marcus caught her wrist and opened her fingers.
A small brass key lay in her palm.
Dominic took it.
Noah began crying.
Not screaming.
Crying.
Silent tears rolled down his cheeks.
Dominic stared at the key.
Then at his son.
“I need to know.”
Noah shook his head.
Dominic's voice broke slightly.
“I need to know what happened to your mother.”
Mrs. Hargrove whispered behind him.
“Sometimes knowing is worse.”
Dominic turned.
“If you say another word, Marcus will put you in the basement until I decide what to do with you.”
She finally became silent.
Dominic entered the north wing.
Marcus followed.
Clara stayed with Noah.
Ten seconds passed.
Then Noah pulled away.
He started upstairs.
“Noah.”
He kept moving.
Clara followed.
The north wing smelled different from the rest of the mansion.
Dust.
Old wood.
Something medicinal.
Plastic sheets covered furniture.
Portraits had been removed from the walls, leaving pale rectangles behind.
At the far end stood Dominic and Marcus.
Between them was a steel door.
Dominic inserted the brass key.
It turned.
The humming stopped.
Everyone froze.
Dominic opened the door.
The room beyond was small.
No windows.
White walls.
A child's bed sat against one side.
Leather straps hung from its rails.
Clara stopped breathing.
There were scratches on the walls.
Hundreds of them.
Some were low enough for a child to have made.
Dominic stepped inside.
“What the hell is this?”
Marcus looked sick.
Noah appeared behind Clara.
The second he saw the bed, he screamed.
He dropped to the floor.
Clara grabbed him.
“Noah!”
He kicked desperately.
“NO!”
Dominic spun around.
“Noah!”
The boy pointed at the bed.
“Bad room!”
Dominic looked as if the floor had disappeared beneath him.
“You've been here?”
Noah nodded frantically.
Dominic turned toward Mrs. Hargrove.
She had followed them.
Marcus raised his weapon.
Dominic crossed the room in three strides.
He grabbed Mrs. Hargrove by the collar.
“You put my son in here?”
“No.”
“Don't lie to me!”
“I never strapped him to that bed.”
“Then who did?”
Her mouth remained closed.
Dominic shoved her against the wall.
Clara had never seen rage so controlled.
That made it worse.
“Give me a name.”
Mrs. Hargrove finally whispered.
“You should ask Dr. Mercer.”
Dominic froze.
Dr. Samuel Mercer had been Noah's primary trauma specialist.
He had treated the boy for eighteen months.
Dominic released her.
“Marcus.”
“Already calling.”
Marcus stepped away.
Then Clara noticed something beneath the bed.
A small corner of blue fabric.
She knelt.
Noah whimpered.
Clara reached underneath and pulled it out.
A stuffed blue elephant.
Its fur was dirty.
One ear had been torn.
Dominic stared at it.
“Elena bought that before Noah was born.”
Noah reached for it.
Clara handed it to him.
The boy crushed it against his chest.
Then something hard clicked inside the toy.
Clara frowned.
She squeezed its stomach.
There was an object hidden inside.
Dominic took a knife from Marcus and carefully opened the seam.
A tiny flash drive fell onto his palm.
Everyone stared.
Mrs. Hargrove whispered.
“Oh, God.”
Dominic looked at her.
“You know what this is.”
She shook her head.
“No.”
But Noah pointed at the drive.
“Mom.”
Dominic's hand started trembling.
Marcus returned.
“Sir.”
“What?”
“Dr. Mercer isn't answering.”
“Find him.”
Marcus looked at the screen of his phone.
“We already did.”
Dominic waited.
May you like
Marcus's face hardened.
“His car exploded twenty minutes ago.”
