Chapter 1 - THE WOMAN ON THE MARBLE FLOOR
The scream came from the grand foyer at exactly 8:17 p.m.
By the time Daniel Whitmore reached the staircase, his wife was lying motionless on the white marble floor.
“Claire!”
He nearly slipped as he ran toward her.
Claire Whitmore lay beside the bottom step in a gold evening gown, one arm twisted beneath her and a thin line of blood running from her temple.
Beside her knelt Vanessa Cole.
Vanessa wore a bright red dress.
Her hands were shaking.
Her breathing came in short, frightened bursts.
“Oh my God, Daniel.”
Daniel dropped beside his wife.
“What happened?”
Vanessa looked at Claire.
Then she looked at Daniel.
“She fell.”
“What?”
“She was coming down the stairs and she slipped.”
Daniel touched Claire’s cheek.
“Claire, can you hear me?”
Claire made a weak sound.
Her eyes opened for barely a second.
Then they closed again.
Daniel grabbed his phone.
“Call an ambulance.”
“I already did.”
Vanessa reached toward him.
Daniel pulled away.
“Don’t touch her.”
Vanessa froze.
“I was trying to help.”
Guests began gathering at the entrance to the foyer.
The Whitmore Foundation’s annual charity dinner had filled the mansion with more than eighty people.
Now nobody spoke.
Daniel looked at the stairs.
Something bothered him.
Claire’s right shoe was lying near the third step.
Her left shoe was still on her foot.
Her champagne glass sat upright on a small table near the railing.
Nothing looked like someone had simply slipped.
Daniel slowly turned toward Vanessa.
“Where were you when she fell?”
Vanessa swallowed.
“Behind her.”
“How far behind?”
“I don’t know.”
“Three feet?”
“Daniel, I wasn’t measuring.”
“Five feet?”
“I said I don’t know.”
Her voice had become sharper.
Then Daniel noticed something else.
A red mark crossed Claire’s wrist.
It looked like fingers had grabbed her.
Vanessa followed his eyes.
Her face changed.
Only for a second.
But Daniel saw it.
“Did you grab her?”
“No.”
The answer came too quickly.
Daniel stood.
“Vanessa.”
“I said no.”
“Then why is there a mark on her wrist?”
Vanessa stared at him.
“I tried to catch her.”
“You just said she fell.”
“She did.”
“And then you grabbed her?”
“Yes.”
“Before or after she fell?”
Vanessa opened her mouth.
Nothing came out.
A low mechanical hum sounded above them.
Daniel looked up.
Mounted beneath the second-floor railing was a small black security camera.
Its green indicator light was blinking.
Daniel stared at it.
Then he looked at Vanessa.
The color drained from her face.
“No.”
It was barely a whisper.
Daniel slowly stood.
“What did you just say?”
Vanessa backed away.
“Nothing.”
Daniel pointed toward the camera.
“That records the entire staircase.”
Vanessa’s eyes widened.
For the first time that night, Daniel saw something stronger than fear in them.
Panic.
Pure panic.
“Daniel, wait.”
He stepped toward the security office.
Vanessa grabbed his sleeve.
“Don’t.”
Daniel stopped.
Everyone in the foyer went silent.
Vanessa realized what she had done.
Her hand slowly released him.
Daniel stared at her.
“Why don’t you want me watching that recording?”
Sirens sounded beyond the mansion gates.
Vanessa whispered something under her breath.
Daniel almost missed it.
“You weren’t supposed to find it tonight.”
He turned.
“What?”
Vanessa said nothing.
But behind them, Claire’s eyes opened.
Her fingers moved weakly against the marble.
And she whispered one word.
“Daniel.”
He dropped beside her.
“I’m here.”
Claire’s lips trembled.
“Don’t trust…”
Her eyes closed again.
“Claire?”
She didn’t finish the sentence.
May you like
Daniel looked up.
Vanessa was gone.
