Chapter 4 - THE SECOND VOICE
Marcus fired toward the ceiling.
The flash briefly lit the room.
No one stood behind Vincent.
The voice had come through the office intercom.
Emergency lights flickered on.
Red light filled the room.
Sophie pressed against Vincent.
Marcus tore the intercom speaker from the wall.
“Remote system.”
Vincent looked at the computer.
Daniel’s recording had stopped.
He pressed play.
Nothing.
The file was corrupted at that exact point.
“Can you recover it?”
“Maybe.”
Marcus moved the memory card into his pocket.
“But not while someone controls the electricity.”
Lydia stood beside the desk.
Her face had become strangely still.
Vincent noticed.
“You recognized the voice.”
“No.”
“You did.”
“I recognized the distortion.”
“What does that mean?”
She stared at the broken intercom.
“My father used the same system.”
“Explain.”
Lydia swallowed.
“When Bellgrave was renovated fourteen years ago, certain rooms were installed for private negotiations.”
“Private negotiations?”
“Places where politicians, executives, and foreign investors could meet without electronic surveillance.”
Marcus gave her a hard look.
“Secret rooms.”
“Yes.”
“Tunnels.”
“Yes.”
“Detention rooms?”
“No.”
“Room Nine?”
Lydia hesitated.
Vincent stepped forward.
“What is Room Nine?”
“My father called it the archive.”
Vincent felt the hairs rise along his arms.
“What archive?”
“Records that weren’t supposed to exist.”
“Whose records?”
Lydia’s eyes moved toward the dining room.
“Everyone’s.”
Vincent understood.
Bellgrave had not simply been an elite private club.
It had been a blackmail machine.
Politicians.
Judges.
Business leaders.
Old money families.
Secret meetings recorded without consent.
Deals.
Affairs.
Bribes.
Threats.
Maybe crimes.
“And your father built this?”
Lydia nodded.
“With someone else.”
Vincent stared at her.
“Who?”
Before she answered, the office door slammed shut.
Marcus tried the handle.
Locked from outside.
The computer screen came alive.
A live camera feed appeared.
The dining room.
The guests were standing.
The two guards Vincent had left behind were gone.
“Where are my men?”
Marcus demanded.
The camera angle changed.
A service elevator.
Both guards lay unconscious inside.
Then the feed returned to the dining room.
Eleven guests remained.
No Victor.
No visible attacker.
Vincent counted again.
Ten.
Someone else was missing.
“Harold Pierce.”
Lydia whispered.
The attorney.
Vincent looked at the feed.
Harold had disappeared.
The screen changed.
Gabriel appeared.
Still tied to the chair.
A black hood covered part of his face.
Water flowed behind him.
A man stepped into frame.
Only his torso was visible.
Dark suit.
Black gloves.
Then a distorted voice spoke.
“Vincent.”
Vincent moved closer to the screen.
“You want me.”
“I want what Daniel Carter stole.”
“You already have Sophie.”
“Not anymore.”
Vincent’s hand tightened.
“She knows nothing.”
“She knows enough.”
“She’s nine.”
“That didn’t stop Daniel from using her as a safe.”
Sophie looked at the floor.
Vincent said, “Let Gabriel go.”
The figure laughed softly.
“You still give orders like the world belongs to you.”
“No.”
Vincent’s voice hardened.
“I give orders like I know cowards hide behind children.”
The laughter stopped.
Marcus glanced at Vincent.
The figure moved closer to the camera.
“You have thirty minutes to give me Daniel’s key.”
“The memory card?”
“No.”
Vincent frowned.
“What key?”
“If you don’t know, ask Sophie.”
The screen went black.
Sophie shook her head quickly.
“I don’t have anything else.”
Vincent knelt beside her.
“I believe you.”
“Dad didn’t give me a key.”
“Maybe they mean something else.”
She began breathing faster.
Vincent kept his voice level.
“Sophie.”
She looked at him.
“You are not responsible for what grown people did.”
“You are not responsible for your father’s investigation.”
“You are not responsible for Gabriel.”
“You only need to remember anything your dad said that seemed strange.”
She closed her eyes.
For several seconds, nothing.
Then she whispered, “He told me a story.”
“What story?”
“The night before he died.”
“About what?”
“A lighthouse.”
Vincent waited.
“He said there was a lighthouse that kept ships safe.”
“But one night bad men came because they wanted the light.”
“So the lighthouse keeper took the flame out.”
“And hid it where nobody would look.”
“Where?”
Sophie opened her eyes.
“In the thing everyone thought was broken.”
Vincent and Marcus looked at each other.
Marcus asked, “Did Daniel own something broken?”
Sophie thought.
“His watch.”
Vincent’s pulse changed.
Daniel Carter had always worn an old mechanical watch.
A gift from his father.
The crystal had been cracked for years.
“Where is the watch?”
Sophie’s eyes widened.
“My mom has it.”
Vincent stood.
“If they kidnapped Hannah, they may already know.”
Sophie shook her head.
“No.”
“What?”
“Mom hid it.”
“Where?”
“She told me after Dad died that it was somewhere safe.”
“Did she tell you where?”
“No.”
The office door suddenly unlocked.
Marcus raised his weapon.
Nobody entered.
Vincent looked at Lydia.
“Someone wants us moving.”
“Or wants us out of this room.”
Marcus opened the door carefully.
The corridor was empty.
They returned toward the dining room.
Every guest stared at them.
Vincent went directly to the center of the room.
“Harold Pierce.”
No answer.
Victor still missing.
Harold missing.
Two security guards gone.
Vincent looked at the remaining guests.
“From this point forward, nobody moves alone.”
One guest, Celia Grant, folded her arms.
“This is absurd.”
“My husband is waiting downstairs.”
Vincent looked at her.
“If your husband is downstairs, he is safer than we are.”
A woman near the fireplace spoke.
“Vincent, you need to explain what’s happening.”
It was Evelyn Hale.
Vincent’s aunt.
His father’s younger sister.
Seventy-one.
Elegant.
Silver hair.
Diamond earrings.
She had barely spoken since the doors locked.
She had also been on Hale Meridian’s board for thirty-three years.
Vincent looked at her.
“Aunt Evelyn.”
She held his gaze.
“Does Gabriel’s name mean anything to you tonight?”
A small murmur moved around the table.
Evelyn’s expression did not change.
“Your brother has been dead fourteen years.”
“Have you seen proof?”
“I attended his funeral.”
“There was no body.”
“You know why.”
“Do I?”
She looked almost offended.
“Grief does strange things to intelligent men.”
Sophie suddenly squeezed Vincent’s hand hard.
He looked down.
Her eyes were locked on Evelyn.
“What?”
Sophie whispered.
“That voice.”
Vincent crouched.
“What voice?”
“The woman who talked to Mr. Shaw yesterday.”
Evelyn’s face did not move.
Sophie pointed.
“It was her.”
Every head turned toward Evelyn Hale.
She smiled faintly.
May you like
Then she said something no innocent person should have known.
“Sophie, sweetheart, you were supposed to be asleep.”
