Chapter 7: Behind the Wall
The message on my phone was still glowing when Detective Lewis read it again.
“Look inside the kitchen wall.””
My father stared at me.
“No.””
I looked at him.
“Dad?””
“We're not going back there.””
“Why?””
“Because if someone knew about that wall before tonight, then whoever sent that message wants us to find something.””
Detective Lewis nodded.
“He's right.””
I looked at both of them.
“My mother hid something in my kitchen eight years ago. Julian knew about it. And tonight he tried to get me out of that house.””
I pushed myself higher against the hospital pillows, ignoring the pain.
“Whatever is behind that wall, I need to know.””
Detective Lewis sighed.
“I can have officers search the house.””
“No.””
My answer came faster than I expected.
“I want to be there.””
“You can barely walk.””
“I don't need to walk.””
My father looked at me.
“Emily…”
“I spent seven years being afraid of that house.””
I held up the letter.
“I'm done being afraid of a kitchen.””
Three hours later, an officer drove us back.
The blue sedan was gone.
The street looked exactly as it always had.
That almost made it worse.
My father carried my crutches while Detective Lewis unlocked the front door.
The kitchen smelled faintly of spilled soup and disinfectant.
The overturned chair was still there.
A dark mark remained on the floor where my head had struck.
I looked away.
“Which wall?”” Detective Lewis asked.
I pointed toward the cabinets.
“The one behind the pantry.””
He examined it.
“Why there?””
I remembered something.
“Mom used to stand there.””
My father frowned.
“What?””
“When I was little. She'd tap the wall three times before opening the pantry.””
He stared at me.
“I thought it was a game.””
Detective Lewis knocked against the drywall.
Tap.
Tap.
Tap.
A hollow sound answered.
We all froze.
My father whispered, “Oh my God.””
The officer removed a section of trim.
Behind it was a narrow wooden box.
My hands shook.
Detective Lewis pulled it free.
There was no lock.
Inside were photographs.
A flash drive.
And a small red notebook.
I recognized the notebook immediately.
“My mother's handwriting.””
I opened it.
The first pages contained dates and numbers.
Bank transfers.
Names.
Payments.
Then one name appeared again and again.
*Julian Mercer.*
My stomach dropped.
My father leaned closer.
“He knew her?””
I turned another page.
There was a sentence underlined twice.
Julian knows about Emily's inheritance.
Another page.
Margaret told him.
Another.
He has begun following Emily.
I couldn't breathe.
“He was following me before we even met.””
Detective Lewis took photographs of every page.
Then he found a sealed envelope at the bottom.
My name was written on it.
I opened it.
Inside was a single photograph.
My mother had written beneath it:
This is the man Julian works for.
The photograph showed an older man standing beside Julian.
I stared.
I knew him.
Not personally.
But I knew his face.
He was the owner of the construction company where Julian had worked before we met.
I looked at Detective Lewis.
“Richard Vale.””
His expression changed.
“You know him?””
“He employed Julian.””
My father shook his head.
“Vale's company was investigated years ago.””
“For what?””
“Fraud. Bribery. Missing funds.””
Detective Lewis looked at the notebook again.
“There's more.””
He turned several pages.
Then stopped.
“Emily.””
I leaned closer.
At the bottom of one page was a date.
The day before my mother died.
Beside it were four words.
Richard threatened Emily.
My blood went cold.
“What does that mean?””
Detective Lewis didn't answer.
He was staring at the final entry.
It read:
If anything happens to me, Julian will marry Emily. He believes that will give him access to everything.
My father stepped backward.
“No.””
I looked at him.
“What?””
He pointed toward the page.
“Your mother knew.””
A sound came from the hallway.
A floorboard creaked.
Detective Lewis immediately reached for his weapon.
“Stay here.””
He moved toward the hallway.
“Police!””
No answer.
He disappeared around the corner.
Then came a crash.
My father grabbed my arm.
“Emily, don't move.””
A shadow crossed the kitchen doorway.
For one terrible second, I thought it was Julian.
Then Detective Lewis appeared, holding a torn piece of black fabric.
“He's gone.””
“Who?””
He looked toward the open back door.
“Someone was inside.””
I stared at the fabric.
Sewn into it was a silver emblem.
A small crown.
My father recognized it.
“Richard Vale.””
Then my phone rang.
The screen showed Julian's name.
I answered.
His voice was barely above a whisper.
“Emily, you found the notebook, didn't you?””
I couldn't speak.
“Listen to me,” he said.
“I lied to you about almost everything.””
“Why?””
“Because if I told you the truth, they would have killed you.””
“Who?””
A pause.
May you like
Then Julian said the one thing I never expected.
“Your father.””
