Chapter 5 - THE PERSON THEY TRUSTED
Edward immediately ordered the estate locked down.
Every door was secured.
Every employee was questioned.
Nobody was allowed to leave.
Chloe sat with the girls in the library.
Sophia was curled against her.
Isabella sat beside them, unusually quiet.
After nearly an hour, Edward entered.
“We're leaving.”
Chloe looked up.
“Where?”
“Somewhere secure.”
“Are the girls safe?”
“For now.”
“For now isn't good enough.”
Edward looked at her.
“I know.”
Isabella suddenly spoke.
“Daddy.”
“Yes?”
“Can I tell Chloe something?”
Edward hesitated.
Then nodded.
Isabella leaned toward Chloe.
“Mommy used to hide in the pantry.”
“Why?”
“When people came to the house.”
“What people?”
“I don't know.”
“Did your mother ever tell you?”
Isabella shook her head.
“She told me if I ever heard three knocks, I had to take Sophia and hide.”
Chloe's stomach tightened.
“Three knocks?”
Isabella nodded.
“Always three.”
Edward stared at his daughter.
“Why didn't you tell me this?”
“Because Mommy told me not to.”
“When?”
“Before she died.”
Edward closed his eyes.
Chloe suddenly heard something.
Knock.
Knock.
Knock.
Everyone froze.
Sophia screamed.
Edward pulled both girls behind him.
The sound came again.
From the pantry.
Knock.
Knock.
Knock.
Edward opened the door.
Nobody was there.
Only darkness.
Then a small device fell from the shelf.
A recording began playing.
Laura's voice filled the room.
“Edward, if you're hearing this, then they found us.”
Edward's face crumpled.
Laura continued.
“Don't trust the person who tells you they are helping.”
The recording stopped.
Chloe looked at Edward.
“Who has access to this house?”
“Everyone in this room.”
The employees stared at one another.
Mrs. Whitmore began crying.
Edward looked at her.
“You.”
She shook her head.
“I swear—”
“Then explain how this got here.”
“I don't know.”
Chloe noticed something.
A small smear of white paint on Mrs. Whitmore's sleeve.
She looked at the pantry door.
The inside frame had the same paint.
“Mrs. Whitmore.”
The older woman looked at her.
“You were in here.”
“No.”
“You have paint on your sleeve.”
Mrs. Whitmore glanced down.
Her face changed.
Then she whispered:
“I was trying to protect them.”
Edward stepped toward her.
“From whom?”
She began sobbing.
“From you.”
Silence.
Chloe stood.
“Why?”
Mrs. Whitmore looked at Edward.
“Because your wife didn't trust you anymore.”
Edward's voice broke.
“Why?”
“She discovered what your father had been doing.”
Edward froze.
“My father?”
Mrs. Whitmore nodded.
“Your father was involved in something enormous.”
“What?”
“Money laundering.”
Edward stared at her.
“That has nothing to do with Laura.”
“It does.”
“How?”
Mrs. Whitmore swallowed.
“Laura found the accounts.”
Chloe's eyes widened.
“And she was going to expose them.”
Mrs. Whitmore nodded.
“Then someone threatened her.”
Edward whispered:
“Who?”
Mrs. Whitmore looked directly at him.
“The threat came from inside this house.”
Suddenly, the library doors slammed shut.
A security alarm erupted.
Edward turned.
The girls screamed.
Someone had locked them inside.
And from the other side of the door came a familiar voice.
“Edward.”
It was Daniel.
“Open the door.”
Edward stared at Chloe.
“That's impossible.”
“Why?”
“Daniel doesn't have access to this house.”
The voice outside laughed.
Then came three knocks.
Knock.
Knock.
Knock.
May you like
Isabella whispered:
“Mommy was right.”
