Chapter 5 - The Men at the Gate
Vincent did not rush toward the gate.
That surprised me.
Everything about him suggested he wanted to.
Instead, he became very still.
“Do not let them leave.”
Thomas Reed nodded.
“Security has already closed the outer gate.”
“Do they know?”
“Not yet.”
Vincent looked at me.
“Stay with the boys.”
“No.”
His expression sharpened.
“Claire.”
“I’m not getting in the middle of whatever business dispute you have with Mercer. But Blake prescribed pills to Lucas. If he says anything about the boys, I want to hear it.”
Vincent considered arguing.
Then Mrs. Harper spoke.
“She should be there.”
He looked at her.
Mrs. Harper had spent four years frightened.
Now there was steel in her voice.
“Isabella trusted observation,” she said. “So do I.”
Vincent exhaled.
“Fine.”
We met Daniel Mercer and Harrison Blake in the library.
Mercer looked exactly like the kind of man magazines described as effortlessly successful.
Late forties.
Tailored navy suit.
Silver at his temples.
Warm smile.
The smile disappeared when he saw police vehicles outside.
“Harrison told me there was some kind of emergency.”
Vincent stood by the fireplace.
“Sit down.”
Daniel looked around.
“Where are the boys?”
“Sit.”
Blake glanced at me.
“This is becoming absurd.”
Vincent ignored him.
Daniel sat.
Blake remained standing.
Vincent placed Isabella’s notebook on the coffee table.
Daniel stared at it.
One second.
Maybe less.
But I saw recognition.
“Where did you find that?” he asked.
Vincent’s voice was quiet.
“You know it?”
“No.”
“You just asked where I found it.”
“Because it obviously belonged to Isabella.”
“Her name isn’t on the cover.”
Daniel stopped.
Blake looked toward him.
The smallest mistake.
But important.
Vincent sat across from his oldest friend.
“Isabella wrote about you.”
Daniel’s face softened.
“Vincent, I know you’re hurting.”
“Don’t.”
“I loved her too.”
“Don’t say her name like that.”
Daniel leaned back.
“All right.”
Vincent opened the notebook.
“She found payments to a shell maintenance company.”
Daniel sighed.
“Is that what this is about?”
“You remember them?”
“I manage hundreds of vendors.”
“You remembered quickly.”
“I remember Isabella questioning me about expenses. She was anxious near the end.”
Blake stepped in.
“She was experiencing severe stress.”
I looked at him.
“There it is again.”
Blake frowned.
“What?”
“The same phrase. Severe stress. Anxiety. Unreliable perception.”
He scoffed.
“I’m a physician.”
“And she was investigating a real ventilation problem.”
His mouth closed.
Vincent placed the black dispenser photograph on the table.
Daniel stared at it.
“We found this in my sons’ air duct.”
“I have no idea what that is.”
“A lab does.”
Blake’s face lost color.
Vincent saw it.
“The substance inside could explain the boys’ symptoms.”
Blake adjusted his cuff.
“That’s premature.”
“So were the pills?”
Daniel turned toward him.
“What pills?”
For the first time, his reaction looked genuine.
Vincent watched him carefully.
“Lucas collapsed this morning.”
Daniel’s composure disappeared.
“What?”
“The medication Harrison prescribed contained something else.”
Daniel stood.
“Harrison?”
Blake’s voice became sharp.
“Sit down.”
Daniel stared at him.
“What did you give that child?”
“I prescribed exactly what was appropriate.”
“The tablets were switched,” I said.
Daniel looked from me to Blake.
Then back.
“You told me you were keeping them stable.”
Every person in the room froze.
Daniel realized what he had said.
Too late.
Vincent slowly rose.
“Keeping them stable?”
Daniel’s face changed.
“That’s not what I meant.”
“What did you mean?”
“I meant medically.”
“Harrison is the doctor.”
“I was repeating what he told me.”
Vincent stepped closer.
“Why was he discussing my children’s condition with you?”
Blake moved between them.
“This has gone far enough.”
Vincent looked at him.
“You’re right.”
He nodded toward Reed.
“Call the investigators in.”
Blake suddenly reached into his jacket.
Three guards moved instantly.
“Hands where we can see them!”
“It’s my phone!”
The device hit the carpet.
Nobody relaxed.
Blake raised both hands.
“You people have lost your minds.”
The investigators entered.
Daniel looked at Vincent.
“You seriously think I hurt your children?”
“I don’t know what to think.”
“You’ve known me thirty years.”
“I knew my wife fourteen.”
That silenced him.
“And apparently,” Vincent continued, “I didn’t know what was happening to her either.”
Daniel’s expression shifted.
Guilt?
Fear?
Something.
Then he said something unexpected.
“I told her to stop.”
Vincent stared at him.
“You admit it.”
“I told Isabella to stop investigating the payments.”
“Why?”
“Because they weren’t what she thought.”
“What were they?”
Daniel looked at the police.
“I want an attorney.”
Blake closed his eyes.
That was when I knew.
These two men were connected.
But not equally.
One of them was afraid of the other.
I just didn’t know which.
The investigators separated them.
Blake was questioned in the study.
Daniel remained in the library.
I returned to the guesthouse to check on the twins.
Lucas was awake.
Leo sat beside him.
“You missed our movie,” Lucas complained.
“I’m a terrible nanny.”
“Yes.”
“Fire me tomorrow.”
He grinned.
That grin mattered more than all the expensive furniture surrounding us.
I checked his temperature.
Normal.
“Claire?”
“Hmm?”
“Are Dad and Dr. Blake fighting?”
“Adults are talking.”
“That means fighting.”
“Sometimes.”
Leo looked toward the window.
“Dr. Blake doesn’t like Dad.”
I paused.
“Why do you think that?”
“He gets mad when Dad asks questions.”
“When?”
“At appointments.”
Lucas nodded.
“He told Dad to leave once.”
“What?”
“Dr. Blake said we talked better when Dad wasn’t there.”
My stomach tightened.
“Did he ask you questions?”
“Yes.”
“What kind?”
Leo looked at his brother.
“He asked if we remembered Mommy.”
I sat down.
“What did you say?”
“I said yes.”
“What did he ask about her?”
Lucas answered.
“If she ever gave us medicine.”
I felt cold.
“Did she?”
“No.”
“Anything else?”
Leo nodded slowly.
“He asked if Mommy ever took us downstairs.”
“Downstairs where?”
“To her secret room.”
I stared at them.
“You knew about that room?”
Lucas smiled.
“Mommy called it the quiet place.”
Leo’s expression became serious.
“She hid something there.”
“What?”
“A yellow box.”
My heart started pounding.
“Did you see it?”
Leo nodded.
“Mommy told us never to touch it.”
“Where was it?”
“Behind the books.”
I stood so quickly my chair moved.
“Stay here.”
“Where are you going?”
“To look at books.”
Lucas groaned.
“Adults are weird.”
Mrs. Harper came with me.
We hurried back to Isabella’s hidden room.
Police had already photographed everything, but I explained what Leo remembered.
An investigator accompanied us.
Behind the second bookshelf, we found a false wooden panel.
Inside was a yellow metal box.
The key wasn’t in Isabella’s drawer.
Mrs. Harper remembered a small key she had found sewn into the lining of one of Isabella’s old handbags.
Ten minutes later, the box opened.
Inside were photographs.
Invoices.
A flash drive.
And several sealed envelopes.
One contained copies of laboratory results from four years earlier.
I read the first page.
Isabella had independently tested air samples from the east wing.
The report showed unusual chemical residues.
She had evidence.
She had possessed evidence four years ago.
Another envelope contained photographs taken through a car windshield.
Dr. Blake meeting Daniel Mercer in a parking garage.
Daniel handing Blake something.
Then a third man entering the frame.
I didn’t recognize him.
Mrs. Harper did.
Her hand flew to her mouth.
“No.”
“What?”
She pointed at the photograph.
“That man worked here.”
“When?”
“Before Isabella died.”
“What was his job?”
“Estate maintenance.”
Vincent entered behind us.
He saw the photograph.
His face changed.
“I know him.”
“Who?”
“Michael Vane.”
The investigator looked up.
“Where is he now?”
Vincent didn’t answer.
Mrs. Harper whispered it.
“He died.”
“How?”
“Car accident.”
I looked at Vincent.
“When?”
He swallowed.
“Three weeks after Isabella.”
Two people connected to the ventilation system.
Both dead in traffic accidents.
That no longer sounded like coincidence.
The flash drive contained financial files.
Fake vendors.
Payments.
Internal transfers.
Millions of dollars moved quietly through companies connected to Moretti Hospitality.
Isabella had stumbled onto something far larger than a strange smell.
But the most disturbing file was audio.
We played it.
Isabella’s voice filled the small room.
“I’m recording this because I don’t know who else I can trust.”
Vincent closed his eyes.
Four years vanished from his face.
“I found another device inside the nursery duct. Harrison says it’s harmless, but he took it before I could have it tested.”
A pause.
Then Isabella continued.
“Daniel says I’m misunderstanding the payments.”
Another pause.
“I don’t think Daniel is stealing from Vincent.”
We all looked at one another.
“I think someone is using Daniel’s accounts.”
Vincent leaned closer to the speaker.
“And I think Harrison knows who.”
The recording crackled.
Then Isabella whispered:
“I saw Thomas leaving Harrison’s office at midnight.”
Everyone turned toward the doorway.
Thomas Reed stood there.
Our security chief.
The man controlling every camera on the estate.
The man who had told us the footage was deleted.
His face had gone completely white.
Vincent stared at him.
“Thomas.”
May you like
Reed did not move.
Then his hand slowly reached toward the gun on his belt.
