Chapter 2 - The Red Watch
Julian Archer had the same eyes as Roman.
That was the first thing Claire noticed.
The difference was what lived behind them.
Roman’s eyes, even when cold, carried weight.
Responsibility.
Years of having too many people depend on him.
Julian’s eyes were lighter.
Easier.
The kind that smiled before the rest of his face decided whether it should.
He stepped into the blue room and looked around.
“I heard there was trouble.”
Roman folded Amelia’s letter.
“Who told you?”
“Malcolm called.”
Claire remembered the radios going dead.
Interesting.
Roman seemed to notice the same thing.
“Our internal communications are down.”
Julian shrugged.
“He used his personal phone.”
“At twelve-thirty in the morning?”
“He said Eli was missing.”
Eli moved behind Claire.
Julian saw it.
“Hey, buddy.”
Eli didn’t answer.
Julian’s brow creased.
“What’s wrong with him?”
Roman took one step forward.
“Where were you tonight?”
Julian blinked.
“What?”
“Between eleven-thirty and twelve-fifteen.”
A faint smile returned.
“Seriously?”
“Answer.”
“At home.”
“Alone?”
Julian’s smile vanished.
“You think I had something to do with this?”
“I asked where you were.”
“My house.”
“Anyone see you?”
“My housekeeper.”
“At midnight?”
“She lives in.”
Roman nodded toward the watch.
“New?”
Julian glanced down.
The watch had a deep crimson dial.
“No.”
“Eli says the man who took him was wearing one with a red face.”
Silence.
Julian slowly looked at the boy.
“Eli told you that?”
Roman’s expression changed almost imperceptibly.
Claire saw it.
Not because of what Julian asked.
Because of how he asked it.
He hadn’t asked whether Eli was okay.
He wanted to know what Eli had said.
Julian caught himself.
“Oh, come on. Roman, half of Charleston owns a red-faced watch.”
“Not that one.”
Julian laughed once.
“This is getting ridiculous.”
Roman knew the watch.
“It was Dad’s.”
Julian’s face hardened.
“So?”
“He had two custom-made. One for me. One for you.”
“You sold yours.”
“I gave mine to a charity auction six years ago. Yours is the only one left.”
Julian took a step backward.
“This is insane.”
Eli whispered, “Claire.”
She crouched beside him.
“What?”
“That’s not the watch.”
Julian heard.
His shoulders loosened.
Roman looked at Eli.
“What do you mean?”
“The man’s watch had red around the outside too.”
Julian lifted his wrist.
His watch had a red dial but a silver bezel.
Roman frowned.
Julian exhaled.
“Wonderful. Can we stop accusing me of attempted murder now?”
Roman didn’t apologize.
Instead, he said, “Why are you here?”
“I told you. Malcolm called.”
Right on cue, footsteps approached.
A broad-shouldered man in his late forties entered with two guards behind him.
Claire recognized him from the dock.
Malcolm Reed.
Roman’s head of security.
Military posture.
Closely cut gray hair.
Calm face.
He looked like a man built to handle disasters.
“Mr. Archer.”
Roman held up a hand.
“Where were you during the outage?”
“Security center.”
“Who disabled communications?”
“We’re still determining that.”
“Who opened the west gate?”
“Same answer.”
Claire watched Malcolm.
Nothing moved except his mouth.
No frustration.
No embarrassment.
A child had been taken from under his protection.
The estate had been breached twice.
Yet he seemed almost too controlled.
Roman held up Amelia’s necklace.
“Recognize this?”
Something flickered in Malcolm’s eyes.
Barely.
But Claire saw it.
“Yes.”
“Where was it stored?”
“In Mrs. Archer’s memorial cabinet.”
“Who has access?”
“You.”
“Who else?”
“My master security override could open the room.”
Roman’s eyes narrowed.
“Anyone else?”
“Julian has family-level access.”
Julian threw up his hands.
“There we go again.”
Malcolm continued.
“Mrs. Delaney has an emergency key. No one else should.”
Roman looked toward the hallway.
“Bring Delaney.”
A guard left.
Julian walked to the windows.
“This is madness. Roman, call the police.”
“I have.”
“No, you called Archer’s private liaison.”
Roman looked at him.
“How do you know?”
Julian hesitated.
Malcolm answered for him.
“I told him.”
Claire filed away another detail.
Malcolm and Julian were talking to each other before Roman knew Julian was coming.
A woman in her sixties arrived several minutes later wearing a robe beneath a heavy coat.
Mrs. Delaney.
The longtime housekeeper looked terrified.
“Mr. Archer?”
“When was the last time you entered this room?”
“Three months ago. For cleaning.”
“Did you open Amelia’s cabinet?”
“No, sir.”
“Where is your key?”
“In my bedroom safe.”
“Bring it.”
Her hands trembled.
“I will.”
“Mrs. Delaney.”
She stopped.
Roman softened slightly.
“My son was almost killed tonight.”
Tears filled her eyes.
“I know.”
“If you know anything—anything—you tell me now.”
The housekeeper looked around.
Her gaze landed on Julian.
Then Malcolm.
Then Claire.
“I heard someone on this floor two nights ago.”
Roman went still.
“Who?”
“I didn’t see them.”
“Why didn’t you report it?”
“I thought it was you.”
“I haven’t been up here in four years.”
“I know.”
“Then why would you think that?”
Mrs. Delaney looked embarrassed.
“Because the piano was playing.”
Eli squeezed Claire’s fingers.
Roman stared at the old woman.
“You heard Amelia’s song?”
“Yes.”
“Exactly the same song?”
Mrs. Delaney nodded.
Claire turned toward the piano.
A black rectangular device sat beneath it.
She hadn’t noticed it before.
She crouched.
“What is that?”
Malcolm crossed the room quickly.
“Don’t touch it.”
Claire looked at him.
“Why?”
“Could be connected to the electrical system.”
Roman walked over.
“Is it?”
Malcolm hesitated.
Roman picked it up.
A small wireless speaker.
Someone had hidden it beneath the piano.
Claire turned it over.
There was a blinking blue light.
“Bluetooth.”
Roman’s jaw hardened.
“So nobody played that piano.”
“No,” Claire said. “Somebody wanted Eli to believe they did.”
Eli stared at the speaker.
“They wanted me upstairs.”
Roman looked at his son.
“Yes.”
The realization seemed to break something inside him.
He crossed the room and crouched.
“I’m sorry.”
Eli frowned.
“For what?”
“For building a house I thought no one could get into and forgetting to ask whether the danger was already inside.”
Eli touched his father’s cheek.
“Claire got me.”
Roman looked over at her.
Something passed between them.
Gratitude.
Fear.
And something neither of them had time to understand.
Mrs. Delaney returned with her key.
Malcolm inspected it.
“Not used recently.”
Julian sighed.
“So we have no answers.”
Claire looked at the necklace.
“Maybe we do.”
Everyone turned.
“The woman wore Amelia’s necklace.”
“We know,” Roman said.
“She knew Amelia’s song. She knew about the brass key. She knew about this room.”
Claire pointed toward the hidden speaker.
“This wasn’t random. She knew enough about Amelia to recreate something emotionally specific.”
Roman followed her reasoning.
“So someone who knew my wife.”
“Personally.”
Malcolm said, “Mrs. Archer had hundreds of employees.”
“But how many knew about the key?”
Roman looked down at the letter.
“Almost none.”
Claire turned toward the photographs on Amelia’s desk.
Most were family photos.
Roman.
Eli.
Charity events.
Vacations.
Then one photograph caught her attention.
Amelia stood on the deck of a sailboat beside another woman.
Same dark hair.
Same height.
The woman wore sunglasses and laughed at the camera.
On her finger was a silver star-shaped ring.
Claire picked up the photograph.
“Roman.”
His face changed.
“Daphne.”
“Who?”
“Daphne Rowe. Amelia’s closest friend.”
“Where is she now?”
Roman didn’t answer immediately.
Julian did.
“Gone.”
Claire looked at him.
“Gone where?”
Julian leaned against the desk.
“Nobody knows.”
Roman took the photograph.
“She disappeared six days after Amelia died.”
Claire’s pulse quickened.
“Police question her?”
“She gave a statement after the accident. Then she resigned from Amelia’s foundation and left Charleston.”
“Why?”
Roman’s expression darkened.
“I thought grief.”
Julian added, “Amelia and Daphne were practically sisters.”
Claire studied the photograph.
“You have a current picture?”
Roman shook his head.
“That’s four years old.”
Eli peeked around Claire’s shoulder.
“That’s her ring.”
Everyone went silent.
“What?” Roman asked.
Eli pointed.
“The woman at the dock had that ring.”
Roman stared at the silver star.
“You’re sure?”
“Yes.”
Malcolm stepped forward.
“Mr. Archer, if Daphne Rowe is involved, we need to find her immediately.”
Claire looked at him.
Something about his eagerness bothered her.
Roman noticed.
“What?”
She hesitated.
“Nothing.”
“Say it.”
“You said someone had master access.”
Roman glanced toward Malcolm.
Claire continued carefully.
“Whoever did this needed to know the estate security system. Daphne may have known Amelia. But she hasn’t worked here in four years.”
Malcolm’s face remained calm.
“You’re implying she had help.”
“I’m saying she couldn’t erase modern security logs unless she learned a lot about your system very recently.”
Roman’s expression sharpened.
Malcolm nodded once.
“That’s reasonable.”
Too reasonable.
Claire’s eyes drifted toward his wrist.
A heavy black watch.
No red face.
Then she saw something else.
A faint line of mud along the inside hem of Malcolm’s trousers.
Roman noticed her looking.
“Malcolm.”
“Yes?”
“Were you outside tonight?”
“Briefly.”
“When?”
“After Eli was reported missing.”
“Where?”
“East grounds.”
Claire asked, “Near the harbor?”
His gaze moved to her.
“No.”
“Then why is there sand on your shoes?”
Every head turned.
Malcolm looked down.
A few pale grains clung to the leather.
He laughed softly.
“This estate sits less than a mile from marshland.”
Claire didn’t laugh.
“So does half of Charleston.”
Roman’s voice became ice.
“Remove your shoes.”
Julian stared at him.
“Roman.”
“Stay out of it.”
Malcolm didn’t move.
Roman repeated, “Shoes.”
The security chief slowly removed them.
Claire knelt.
Embedded in the tread was black grit.
Not pale garden sand.
Black.
Oily.
Industrial.
She had seen the same substance when she crawled across the abandoned ferry dock.
Roman saw her expression.
“What?”
Claire stood.
“That isn’t from your garden.”
“How do you know?”
“Because it was all over my knees when I pulled Eli out of the harbor.”
Nobody breathed.
Malcolm looked at Claire.
For the first time, his calm disappeared.
Only for a second.
Then he said, “I was at the ferry dock after your call.”
Roman frowned.
“You never came down to the water.”
“I checked the perimeter.”
Claire remembered the five SUVs.
Guards pouring out.
Chaos.
Could Malcolm have gone toward the warehouse?
Possibly.
Roman stared at him.
“How long?”
“Two minutes.”
“Alone?”
“Yes.”
“Convenient.”
Malcolm’s face hardened.
“I have protected you for thirteen years.”
“And tonight my son nearly died.”
Roman held out his hand.
“Your phone.”
Malcolm didn’t move.
Roman’s voice lowered.
“Give me your phone.”
The security chief finally handed it over.
Roman passed it to another guard.
“Take him downstairs. Stay with him.”
Malcolm stared at him.
“You’re detaining me?”
“I’m removing your access until I know who betrayed my family.”
The guards hesitated.
Malcolm looked around.
For the first time, Claire understood something terrifying.
Those guards didn’t know who to obey.
Roman saw it too.
“Do we have a problem?”
“No, sir.”
They escorted Malcolm away.
Julian shook his head.
“You’re destroying your own people.”
Roman looked at him.
“If one of my own people put Eli in that water, I’m going to destroy a lot more than their employment record.”
Julian left soon afterward.
Claire watched him go.
Then she turned to Roman.
“You don’t trust him.”
“My brother?”
“Yes.”
Roman stared at the open door.
“I don’t trust anyone tonight.”
Eli yawned against Claire’s shoulder.
Roman looked at his son and his expression softened.
“Except maybe one person.”
Claire understood he meant her.
That frightened her more than she expected.
Because she was beginning to understand something too.
She should have left this house the moment Eli was safe.
Instead, she wanted answers.
Roman took Amelia’s letter and the flash drive from the box.
“We check these before anyone else sees them.”
Claire nodded.
Roman looked at the old phone.
The screen was cracked.
Battery dead.
He pressed the power button anyway.
Nothing.
Then Claire noticed an engraving on the case.
Two initials.
A.A.
Amelia Archer.
Roman picked it up.
“She never used this phone.”
“How do you know?”
“I bought her every phone she owned.”
“So maybe somebody else gave it to her.”
Roman turned it over.
A tiny strip of tape covered the battery compartment.
Written across the tape were three words.
DO NOT TRUST M.
Roman stared.
“M.”
Claire looked toward the hallway Malcolm had just disappeared down.
“Malcolm?”
Roman didn’t answer.
Because there was another possibility.
Amelia’s maiden name had been Mercer.
Her father’s name had been Michael.
Her attorney had been Margaret Hayes.
And one of Roman Archer’s largest companies was called Meridian Shipping.
“M could be anyone,” Claire said.
Roman nodded slowly.
Then the old phone suddenly vibrated.
Both of them jumped.
The screen lit.
Impossible.
It should have been dead.
A scheduled message appeared.
One sentence.
May you like
If Roman opened the box, they know. Get Eli out of the house.
Then every lock in the mansion clicked open at once.
