Chapter 4 - The Cellar Beneath the Barrels
The paramedics tried to wheel me straight to the ambulance gurney, but I refused to lie down until I saw what was happening. I sat on the rear bumper of the ambulance with a tight bandage wrapped around my head, watching the chaos unfold.
Adrian was screaming profanities from the back of the first squad car, kicking the reinforced plastic partition with his designer Italian leather shoes. Charles was on his cell phone, pacing the manicured lawn, barking at his high-powered defense attorneys to wake up and get an emergency injunction.
Two additional backup cruisers rolled up the gravel driveway, their spotlights cutting through the misty night, illuminating the rustic wooden carriage house behind the estate.
Deputy Miller walked over to Maya with a flashlight. "Show me the door."
Maya led the way, her steps shaky but deliberate. I slid off the ambulance bumper and followed close behind, ignoring the paramedic’s call to stay seated.
Inside the carriage house, the smell of aged oak, motor oil, and damp earth hung thick in the air. Maya walked past a vintage Jaguar covered in a canvas tarp, heading straight toward the far back wall where dozens of empty wine barrels were stacked high on iron racks.
She reached behind the third barrel on the bottom and pushed a concealed wooden latch. The entire rack shifted forward with a rusty groan, revealing a heavy, reinforced steel cellar door with an electronic keypad lock.
"The code is Adrian's birthdate," Maya said, her voice shaking. "He never changed it."
Deputy Miller looked back at Charles, who had just rushed into the carriage house doorway, flanked by Eleanor.
"Deputies, this is private property! You do not have a warrant for that sub-structure!" Charles yelled, sweating through his collar.
"Under exigent circumstances regarding an active domestic assault investigation involving threats to life, I am authorized to conduct a protective sweep," Miller answered without looking back. He punched in the six digits.
A sharp electronic beep sounded. The heavy magnetic lock released with a loud thud.
Miller pulled his sidearm from its holster, flicked his high-powered tactical light on, and pulled the heavy steel door open.
A wave of cold, stagnant, chemical-laced air rolled up from the darkness below.
"Sheriff’s Department! Anyone down there, identify yourself!" Miller shouted down the concrete stairs.
Nothing answered except the faint, rhythmic sound of a dripping pipe.
Miller started down the steps, his partner covering him from behind. I stood at the threshold beside Maya, staring into the dark abyss.
May you like
Then, Deputy Miller’s flashlight beam hit the center of the subterranean concrete floor.
"Mother of God..." his partner gasped.
