Chapter 2 - THE DEAD MAN'S SECRET
The gunshot had come from the second floor.
Owen reacted instantly.
He pulled Claire behind the stone wall beside the vault entrance.
Thomas dropped to the floor.
Security rushed through the corridor.
For several seconds, nobody spoke.
Then another sound came.
A woman screaming.
Claire's blood turned cold.
“That came from the east wing.”
Owen was already moving.
“Stay here.”
Claire grabbed his sleeve.
“My room is in the east wing.”
Owen stopped.
Thomas stared at him.
“You can't leave her here.”
“I won't.”
Owen looked at Claire.
“You're coming with me.”
They moved through the darkened hallway.
Emergency lights flickered red along the walls.
The mansion, which had always seemed enormous and luxurious to Claire, suddenly felt like a maze.
At the end of the corridor, a security guard was lying unconscious beside a shattered camera.
Owen crouched beside him.
“Alive.”
Thomas looked around.
“No shell casing.”
Owen stood.
“This wasn't a shooting.”
Claire frowned.
“But we heard—”
“Someone used a sound device.”
Thomas stared at him.
“Why?”
“To make us move.”
A door slammed upstairs.
Owen looked toward the staircase.
“They wanted us out of the vault.”
Claire's heart sank.
“The vault.”
They raced back.
When they reached it, the door was still open.
But the silver pocket watch was gone.
Claire stopped.
“No.”
Owen walked inside.
Thomas followed.
The drawers had been opened.
Nothing else seemed disturbed.
Claire looked at the empty spot where the watch had been.
“My grandfather's watch.”
Owen's expression was unreadable.
Then Thomas said something.
“It's not the watch they're after.”
Claire turned.
“What?”
Thomas pointed to the black wooden case.
It was still sitting untouched.
Owen opened it.
Inside was a stack of old photographs.
Claire leaned closer.
The first photograph showed four men standing outside a warehouse.
One was Owen's father.
Another was Thomas's father.
The third was a much younger Robert Bennett.
The fourth man had his face scratched out.
Claire stared.
“Who is that?”
Thomas looked away.
Owen picked up another photograph.
This one showed Robert Bennett standing beside a woman.
Claire stopped breathing.
She knew the woman.
It was her grandmother.
But Claire had never seen the photograph.
Her grandmother had died before Claire was born.
On the back were three words.
“THE FIRST WITNESS.”
Claire looked at Owen.
“What does this mean?”
He didn't answer.
She grabbed another photograph.
Her grandfather stood beside Owen's father.
Behind them was the same vault.
Claire's hands began shaking.
“You knew him.”
Owen nodded.
“How well?”
“Better than you think.”
“Did you kill him?”
The question escaped before Claire could stop it.
Thomas inhaled sharply.
Owen stared at her.
“No.”
Claire's eyes filled with anger.
“Then why did you say you watched him die?”
“Because I did.”
“What happened?”
Owen looked at the photograph.
“Your grandfather was supposed to deliver something to my father.”
“What?”
“A ledger.”
Thomas interrupted.
“Owen.”
Owen ignored him.
“The ledger contained names.”
“Whose names?”
“Judges. Police officers. Bankers. Politicians.”
Claire stared.
“And Mafia members.”
Owen nodded.
“Your grandfather discovered that my father's organization had been using legitimate businesses to move money for people who were supposed to be untouchable.”
Claire looked at Thomas.
“And your father?”
Thomas's face hardened.
“My father wasn't innocent.”
Owen stepped closer.
“Neither was mine.”
Claire suddenly noticed something.
A small red mark in the corner of the photograph.
The same crescent.
But there was another symbol beside it.
A number.
She looked at the pocket watch's missing place.
“Eleven seventeen.”
Owen's eyes narrowed.
Claire whispered, “It's a code.”
Thomas looked alarmed.
“What code?”
Claire picked up another photograph.
“Every picture has a number.”
They spread the photographs across the floor.
Then Claire noticed the dates.
They weren't random.
They corresponded to dates when people connected to the Mercer organization had died.
Thomas stepped backward.
“That's impossible.”
Claire looked at him.
“You recognize them.”
Thomas didn't answer.
Owen's voice became dangerous.
“Thomas.”
“I didn't know.”
“Know what?”
Thomas looked at Claire.
“The ledger wasn't a list of criminals.”
“What was it?”
Thomas swallowed.
“It was a list of witnesses.”
Silence.
Claire felt a cold pressure settle in her chest.
“Witnesses to what?”
Thomas looked at Owen.
Owen didn't speak.
Thomas finally whispered:
“The murders.”
Claire stared.
“Whose murders?”
“Everyone on that list.”
The room became completely silent.
Then Claire noticed something beneath the photographs.
A handwritten note.
Her grandfather's handwriting.
She picked it up.
This time there were only four words.
“ONE OF THEM LIVES.”
Claire looked at Owen.
“Who?”
Before Owen could answer, the vault door slammed shut.
A mechanical lock engaged.
Thomas screamed.
“We're trapped!”
Owen tried the controls.
Nothing.
Claire stared at the brass mechanism.
The old lock had activated again.
She knelt.
Then she noticed a fresh scratch in the dust.
Someone had written a single letter.
H.
Claire whispered it.
“H.”
Owen's face changed.
Because he knew exactly who H was.
“Harrison Hale.”
Thomas's brother.
A man officially declared dead twelve years ago.
But Claire didn't know that yet.
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And when Thomas saw the name, he whispered:
“My brother is alive.”
