Chapter 5 - THE PENTHOUSE BECAME A CAGE
“You always wondered why I had so much private security.”
Julian’s voice came through ceiling speakers.
Emma stood alone in the darkened bedroom.
Emergency lights painted everything red.
She listened.
A door opened somewhere down the hallway.
Then another.
Julian had disappeared into the penthouse’s private security corridor.
Emma had seen the architectural plans.
But the plans the city possessed were incomplete.
Of course they were.
She moved toward the broken necklace.
The transmitter was under the dresser.
Still blinking.
Maybe damaged.
Maybe not.
She dropped to one knee.
Before she could reach it, the bedroom door opened.
A man entered.
Six-foot-four.
Black suit.
Julian’s head of security.
Caleb Shaw.
Emma knew him well.
He had driven her to charity events.
Carried shopping bags.
Once brought her tea when she had a cold.
Now he was holding a stun gun.
“Mrs. Cole.”
Emma rose.
“Caleb.”
“Mr. Cole wants you downstairs.”
“There is no downstairs.”
“There is.”
That chilled her.
“What’s down there?”
Caleb didn’t answer.
“Move.”
Emma looked at the stun gun.
“Do you know what he’s doing?”
“I know what I’m paid to know.”
“He’s planning to have me committed using false medical records.”
Caleb’s jaw tightened.
“He said you were having an episode.”
Emma laughed once.
“You’ve known me for two years.”
“That doesn’t mean I know you.”
“No.”
Her eyes hardened.
“It means you decided not to.”
Caleb stepped forward.
“Please don’t make this difficult.”
“Where’s Julian?”
“Safe.”
Emma heard footsteps behind Caleb.
Two more security men.
Bad odds.
She could fight.
But fighting three large men in a narrow hallway was not a movie.
Skill did not make bullets or electricity harmless.
She needed leverage.
So Emma lifted her hands.
“Fine.”
Caleb looked surprised.
“That easy?”
“I know when I’m outnumbered.”
He moved closer.
Emma smiled faintly.
“But so should you.”
She kicked the bedroom door hard.
It slammed into the second guard.
At the same time, she knocked Caleb’s stun-gun arm against the frame.
Electric current cracked through the air.
The third guard grabbed her gown.
Emma twisted.
The expensive fabric ripped from shoulder to waist.
She drove her elbow backward into his chest, broke his grip and ran.
Barefoot.
Wedding dress torn.
Hair falling loose.
She sprinted through the hallway.
Caleb shouted behind her.
“LOCK THE WEST CORRIDOR!”
A steel divider began descending from the ceiling.
Emma dove.
Her shoulder hit the marble.
She slid under with inches to spare.
The steel barrier slammed down behind her.
For three seconds, there was silence.
Then Emma heard a woman crying.
Not from a speaker.
From somewhere nearby.
She turned.
The sound came from behind a decorative wall panel.
Emma pressed it.
Nothing.
She searched the molding.
Found a hidden latch.
The panel opened.
Behind it was a narrow room.
Monitors.
Medical equipment.
Restraint straps.
A wheelchair.
And a woman sitting on the floor.
Her wrists were zip-tied.
Her mascara had run down her face.
Emma recognized her.
Rachel Ames.
Julian’s former executive assistant.
Rachel looked up in terror.
“Emma?”
Emma rushed to her.
“What are you doing here?”
Rachel began shaking.
“I tried to quit.”
Emma stared.
May you like
Rachel swallowed.
“And then I found Sarah’s original medical file.”
