Chapter 2 - THE LOCKED ROOM
Detective Rachel Morales entered the house ten minutes later with another officer.
Ethan had contacted her that afternoon after receiving the old police records.
Rachel had warned him not to confront Vanessa alone.
He had planned to follow that advice.
Then he had returned home early and heard Sophie screaming.
Now Rachel stood in the kitchen while Vanessa sat silently at the dining table.
Sophie refused to leave Ethan’s arms.
Rachel crouched several feet away from the child.
“Hi, Sophie.”
Sophie watched her carefully.
“My name is Rachel.”
No response.
“I like your pajamas.”
Sophie looked down at the tiny blue whales printed across them.
“My daddy bought them.”
“He has good taste.”
Sophie almost smiled.
Rachel did not push.
Instead, she looked at Ethan.
“You mentioned a room.”
Ethan nodded.
“Sophie just told me about it.”
Vanessa immediately interrupted.
“She’s talking about a storage closet.”
Rachel turned toward her.
“I wasn’t asking you.”
Vanessa leaned back.
“This is my home too.”
“And right now I need you to remain seated.”
Ethan carried Sophie toward the hallway.
“Can you show me?”
The child hesitated.
Then she pointed upstairs.
They followed her to the second floor.
At the end of the hallway was the guest bedroom.
Ethan had been inside it dozens of times.
Nothing seemed unusual.
Sophie pointed toward a large painting hanging beside the closet.
“There.”
Ethan stared at it.
Rachel removed the painting.
Behind it was a narrow wooden door painted the same color as the wall.
Ethan felt his stomach turn.
“What the hell?”
He had lived in this house for six years.
He had never known the door existed.
A small keypad was built into the frame.
Vanessa appeared in the hallway behind them.
“You need a warrant to open that.”
Rachel turned.
“Interesting.”
Vanessa stopped.
Rachel looked at the keypad.
“You called it a storage closet downstairs.”
Vanessa’s face tightened.
“It is.”
“Then why is it hidden behind a painting?”
Vanessa said nothing.
Sophie whispered.
“Four-two-six-one.”
Ethan looked at her.
“What?”
“That’s the number.”
Vanessa rushed forward.
“No!”
Rachel blocked her.
Ethan entered the numbers.
Four.
Two.
Six.
One.
A green light appeared.
The lock clicked.
Ethan opened the door.
The space beyond was small.
There were no windows.
A narrow chair stood against one wall.
Beside it sat a plastic container.
Ethan put Sophie down outside the doorway.
“Stay with Detective Morales.”
He stepped inside.
The room smelled faintly of cleaning solution.
On the shelf were several children’s toys.
A stuffed rabbit.
A red hair ribbon.
A small plastic bracelet.
Ethan recognized all of them.
They belonged to Sophie.
Then he saw the notebook.
He opened it.
Dates were written down the left side.
Beside each date were short descriptions.
CRYING.
REFUSED DINNER.
ASKED FOR DADDY.
LIED.
BROKE CUP.
WOULD NOT APOLOGIZE.
Ethan’s hands began shaking.
Each entry had a number beside it.
Five minutes.
Ten minutes.
Twenty minutes.
Thirty minutes.
He turned toward Vanessa.
“What is this?”
She remained silent.
Sophie began crying.
“I was bad.”
Ethan rushed back to her.
“No.”
He dropped to his knees.
“No, sweetheart.”
She pointed toward the little room.
“She said good girls don’t make Daddy worried.”
Ethan closed his eyes.
Rachel quietly photographed the notebook.
Then the other officer called from inside the room.
“Detective.”
Rachel entered.
He was staring at the upper shelf.
A small black camera had been hidden behind several boxes.
Rachel carefully removed it.
Vanessa suddenly moved.
She ran.
The officer caught her before she reached the stairs.
“Let go of me!”
Rachel examined the camera.
“There’s a memory card.”
Vanessa stopped struggling.
For the first time, she looked genuinely frightened.
Ethan noticed.
“What’s on it?”
Vanessa said nothing.
Rachel sealed the card inside an evidence bag.
Then Sophie pointed toward the floor.
“There’s another one.”
Everyone looked down.
She pointed beneath the chair.
Ethan crouched.
A loose floorboard was visible.
He pulled it upward.
Underneath was a small metal box.
Inside were photographs.
Bank statements.
A second phone.
And an envelope bearing a name Ethan had never seen before.
LUCY GRANT.
Rachel stared at Vanessa.
“Who is Lucy?”
Vanessa whispered something Ethan could barely hear.
“My first husband’s daughter.”
Ethan looked at her.
“You told me Michael didn’t have children.”
Vanessa closed her eyes.
Rachel opened one of the photographs.
A teenage girl stood beside Michael Grant.
May you like
On the back, someone had written a date.
The photograph had been taken only three days before Michael died.
