Chapter 6 - THE RED ROOM
The lake house sat beside sixty acres of Connecticut forest.
My father had built it before I was born.
I had spent summers there.
Learned to swim there.
Broken my arm there.
Kissed Isabelle for the first time beneath the old oak tree near the water.
Now Victor was using it to hold my daughter.
Grace and I arrived shortly after midnight.
Alone.
At least, that was what Victor believed.
Nico's team was positioned beyond the property line.
No radios.
No visible weapons.
Victor knew every standard procedure.
So we abandoned standard procedures.
The front door opened before I knocked.
Samuel Pike stood there.
The supposedly dead security officer.
He searched me.
Then Grace.
He removed my handgun.
“Phones.”
We surrendered them.
“Walk.”
The house smelled exactly as I remembered.
Cedar.
Dust.
Old stone.
We entered the living room.
Victor stood beside the fireplace.
He was sixty-one.
Silver hair.
Perfect suit.
The same calm expression he'd worn at my father's funeral.
And beside him—
Lucy.
My body forgot how to move.
She was taller.
Of course she was.
Her hair reached her shoulders.
A small scar crossed her eyebrow.
She was clutching a stuffed rabbit.
I knew that rabbit.
I had won it for her at a carnival when she was three.
“Lucy.”
Her eyes lifted.
Gray-green.
Isabelle's eyes.
She stared at me.
No recognition at first.
Then something flickered.
Her fingers tightened around the rabbit.
“Princess Bug.”
Her lips parted.
Victor touched her shoulder.
She stepped backward.
That nearly destroyed me.
“It's okay,” I said softly.
She looked at Victor.
“Is he my daddy?”
Victor smiled.
“He was.”
I looked at my uncle.
“Take your hand off her.”
Victor laughed.
“You haven't changed.”
Grace shifted beside me.
Lucy noticed her.
“Who are you?”
Grace smiled gently.
“My name is Grace.”
Lucy looked at her longer.
Then frowned.
“Amara's mommy?”
Grace went still.
“How do you know Amara?”
Victor's smile vanished.
Lucy hugged the rabbit.
“A lady showed me pictures.”
“What lady?”
Victor interrupted.
“Enough.”
There it was.
Something Victor didn't want discussed.
I remembered Michael's warning.
Someone closer than him.
“Who showed her the pictures?” I asked.
Victor ignored me.
“We're going downstairs.”
He led us toward the cellar.
Behind an old wine rack was a door I had never seen.
Painted dark red.
The red room.
Victor entered a code.
Inside were steel cabinets.
A desk.
An old safe.
And photographs.
Hundreds.
Politicians.
Judges.
Businessmen.
Police officials.
Members of my family.
My father had collected insurance on everyone.
Victor looked at Lucy.
“Tell your father what Mommy taught you.”
Lucy stared at the floor.
I crouched several feet away.
“You don't have to tell me anything.”
Victor's jaw tightened.
Lucy looked at me.
“Mommy said if the bad men came, I should remember the song.”
“What song?”
She whispered.
“Twinkle, Twinkle.”
Victor watched closely.
I understood.
A code hidden inside something a four-year-old could remember.
Victor couldn't access the safe without Lucy.
For two years, he'd kept her alive because Isabelle had taught her the combination.
Victor approached her.
“Sing it.”
Lucy stepped away.
“No.”
“Lucy.”
“No.”
I stood.
“You heard her.”
Victor turned toward me.
“You're in no position to give orders.”
“I don't need a position to tell you not to intimidate my daughter.”
He smiled.
“Your daughter barely knows you.”
The words hurt.
He knew they would.
Victor continued.
“She remembers the explosion. She remembers her mother dying. She remembers men carrying her away. Do you know what I told her?”
“I can imagine.”
“I told her the truth.”
“You've never been acquainted with the truth.”
“I told her you chose your empire over Isabelle.”
I looked at Lucy.
Her eyes filled with tears.
“Did Mommy leave because of you?”
There are questions a father dreams of answering.
That wasn't one.
I could have lied.
I could have blamed Victor.
Instead I said, “Partly.”
Victor looked surprised.
Lucy stared at me.
“Mommy was scared.”
“I know.”
“You made her scared?”
“Not of me hurting her.”
“Then what?”
I looked around the red room.
“Of the life I gave her.”
Lucy hugged the rabbit.
“Did you love her?”
“More than anything.”
“Then why didn't you come?”
My throat closed.
“Because they told me you were dead.”
“Uncle Victor said you stopped looking.”
“I never started because I believed there was nobody left to find.”
Tears rolled down her cheeks.
“I waited.”
I couldn't breathe.
“I know.”
“You took too long.”
“Yes.”
No excuse.
No explanation.
Just truth.
“I did.”
Lucy began crying.
Every instinct demanded that I grab her.
I didn't.
She had spent two years without control.
I wouldn't take another choice from her.
So I stayed where I was.
“I am sorry, Princess Bug.”
Her face crumpled at the nickname.
Then she ran toward me.
I caught her.
Six years old.
Heavier than I remembered.
Arms around my neck.
Face buried against my shoulder.
My daughter.
Alive.
I closed my eyes.
For one impossible moment, nothing else existed.
Then Victor spoke.
“Touching.”
Lucy stiffened.
I stood with her in my arms.
Victor drew a gun.
Grace whispered, “Julian.”
Victor pointed it at her.
“Now open the safe.”
I looked at him.
“No.”
He aimed at Lucy.
My body went cold.
“Don't.”
Victor smiled.
“There he is.”
I placed Lucy behind me.
Victor gestured toward Grace.
“Daniel copied the access sequence.”
Grace shook her head.
“I don't have it.”
“He mailed it to you.”
“No.”
Victor's eyes hardened.
“Your husband died refusing to cooperate. Don't repeat his mistake.”
Lucy gasped.
Grace stared at Victor.
“You killed Daniel.”
“Technically Samuel did.”
Pike smiled from the doorway.
Grace's face changed.
Not fear.
Rage.
“You murdered my husband.”
Victor shrugged.
“He chose badly.”
Grace stepped toward him.
I grabbed her wrist.
“Not now.”
Victor nodded toward the safe.
“Lucy.”
“No.”
“Sing the song.”
She shook her head.
“Lucy.”
Then she looked at me.
And something strange happened.
She winked.
Tiny.
Almost invisible.
Then she began singing.
“Twinkle, twinkle, little star…”
Victor listened.
Lucy tapped her fingers against my arm.
One.
Four.
Three.
Two.
Not matching the lyrics.
A different code.
I realized what Isabelle had done.
The song wasn't the combination.
The finger taps were.
Lucy finished.
Victor entered numbers into the safe.
Red light.
ACCESS DENIED.
His expression changed.
“What did you do?”
Lucy smiled through her tears.
“Mommy said bad men don't listen carefully.”
For the first time in two years, I laughed.
Victor did not.
He raised the gun.
Then every light in the house went out.
Nico.
I shoved Lucy toward Grace.
“Run!”
Gunfire erupted.
Pike shouted.
Glass shattered.
I tackled Victor.
The weapon slid across the floor.
We hit the wall.
He punched me once.
Twice.
I drove him into the desk.
“Where are the rest of the files?”
He laughed.
“You still don't understand.”
I hit him again.
“Understand what?”
“Isabelle didn't discover me by accident.”
He smiled through blood.
“Someone gave her the files.”
“Who?”
“Someone who wanted you destroyed.”
“Who?”
Victor looked toward the dark doorway.
Then said four words that stopped me cold.
“Ask the woman upstairs.”
Before I could respond, an explosion rocked the rear of the house.
Smoke flooded the hall.
Victor disappeared through a hidden passage.
By the time Nico reached us, he was gone.
But Lucy was safe.
Grace was safe.
And the safe had opened automatically during the power failure.
Inside sat a red leather folder.
Isabelle's folder.
On top was a photograph.
A woman stood beside Isabelle outside a Manhattan café.
I recognized her immediately.
She had worked in my home for twenty-three years.
She had helped raise me.
She had been the person I trusted to protect Amara while we were gone.
Mrs. Donnelly.
My cook.
May you like
And written beneath the photograph in Isabelle's handwriting were five words.
SHE KNOWS WHAT VICTOR DID.
