Chapter 2: The Woman My Wife Trusted
For three seconds, nobody moved.
The refrigerator hummed to a stop. The little clock above the stove went dark. Outside the kitchen windows, the afternoon sun still illuminated the gardens, but inside the house, the darkness felt deliberate.
I reached for my daughters.
"Stay behind me," I ordered.
Grace gathered them close.
A soft electronic beep sounded from the hallway.
Then the emergency lights flickered on, painting the kitchen in a dim red glow.
I checked my phone. No signal.
That was impossible. The house had three separate communications systems, a backup generator, and enough security equipment to protect a small government building.
I had personally approved every installation.
"Grace, take the girls to the pantry," I said.
"Lock the door and don't open it for anyone except me.""
She shook her head.
"Sir, we can't use the pantry.""
"Why not?""
"Because Vincent had the locks changed last week.""
The answer struck me harder than the blackout.
"Why didn't you tell me?""
"I tried. He said it was part of a security upgrade.""
I looked toward the ceiling camera.
Its red indicator light had gone dark.
Someone had not merely switched off the electricity. They had disabled the system that was supposed to protect my family.
"Where is the backup control room?"" I asked.
"Basement level two.""
"Stay here.""
Grace caught my wrist.
"Please don't go down there alone.""
For the first time since I had hired her eleven months earlier, she looked at me without the deference she usually showed.
She looked frightened.
Not for herself.
For me.
"Why?"" I asked.
Her lips trembled.
"Because your wife went down there the night before she died.""
I stared at her.
"What did you just say?""
Grace released my wrist and glanced at the children.
"Not in front of them.""
I crouched beside Olivia.
"Sweetheart, I need you to stay with Grace for a little while. I promise I'll come back.""
Olivia seized my sleeve.
"Don't go downstairs, Daddy.""
"Why?""
Her lower lip quivered.
"That's where Mommy heard him.""
A cold sensation crawled up my spine.
"Heard who?""
Before she could answer, footsteps sounded in the hallway.
Slow. Heavy. Deliberate.
Grace pulled the girls behind the kitchen island.
I reached inside my jacket for the pistol I carried when traveling alone.
A man's voice came from the darkness.
"Dominic? You home?""
Vincent.
My oldest employee. My most trusted adviser. The man whose photograph had just arrived on my phone.
I stepped into the hallway.
"Why is the power out?""
Vincent appeared at the far end, wearing his black security uniform. He held a flashlight in one hand and a tablet in the other.
"System malfunction," he said.
"I'm handling it.""
"Why were you watching my daughters sleep?""
He stopped walking.
For the first time in eighteen years, I saw Vincent hesitate when I asked him a direct question.
"What are you talking about?""
I held up my phone.
He glanced at the photograph.
Then he smiled.
It was a small, almost disappointed smile, as though I had failed an examination he had expected me to pass.
"Boss, you've been under tremendous stress. You shouldn't believe everything you see on a screen.""
"You sent it.""
"Did I?""
I stepped closer.
"Who killed Isabelle?""
Vincent lowered the flashlight.
"Marcus Bell. We went through this fourteen months ago.""
"My daughter says we caught the wrong man.""
"Your daughter hasn't spoken in fourteen months. Now she suddenly makes an accusation against the man who has protected your family for nearly two decades?"" He shook his head.
"Doesn't that strike you as suspicious?""
Behind me, a small voice answered.
"No.""
Olivia stood in the kitchen doorway.
Her face was pale, but she was no longer hiding.
"You're the suspicious one.""
Vincent stared at her.
Something shifted behind his eyes. It was gone almost immediately, replaced by concern so convincing that a stranger might have mistaken it for kindness.
"Olivia, sweetheart," he said softly.
"You must be confused.""
She backed away.
"You told Mommy you would make Daddy disappear.""
Vincent's flashlight slipped in his hand.
I raised my pistol.
"Don't move.""
He lifted both hands.
"Dominic, think carefully. This girl has been through something terrible. She's repeating fragments of conversations she doesn't understand.""
"Then you won't mind explaining why she knows what you said to my wife.""
Vincent glanced at the kitchen.
At Grace.
That was when I noticed the tablet in his left hand.
A live video feed showed the basement corridor.
At the end of the corridor stood a woman.
She wore a dark coat and had long brown hair.
For one impossible second, I thought I was looking at Isabelle.
Then the woman turned toward the camera.
It wasn't my wife.
But the resemblance was close enough to make my breath catch.
"Who is that?"" I demanded.
Vincent turned the tablet facedown.
"No one you need to worry about.""
I moved toward him.
He stepped back, and two security guards emerged from the side corridor.
I recognized both men. They had been assigned to the house after Isabelle's murder.
"Take the gun, gentlemen," Vincent ordered.
Neither man moved.
I looked from one to the other.
"Did you hear him?""
The older guard, Raymond, swallowed.
"Sir, Mr. Hale told us you might become unstable.""
I almost laughed.
"Unstable?""
"He said you were having trouble distinguishing reality from grief.""
Vincent's expression hardened.
"Do your jobs.""
Raymond reached toward me, but the younger guard suddenly seized Vincent's arm.
"Enough," he said.
"I saw the message too.""
Vincent struck him across the face with the tablet.
The younger man stumbled into the wall.
I raised my weapon, but Vincent was already moving. He threw the flashlight into my face and disappeared through the side passage.
Raymond chased him.
I ran after them, but by the time I reached the garage, both men were gone.
A car engine roared outside.
Then silence.
When I returned to the kitchen, Grace was sitting on the floor with my daughters gathered around her.
Nora clutched a small silver locket.
I'd never seen it before.
"What is that?"" I asked.
Grace looked down at the locket.
"Something Isabelle gave me.""
I knelt beside her.
"Why would my wife give you jewelry?""
"Because I wasn't only your housekeeper.""
She opened the locket.
Inside was a tiny photograph of Isabelle holding a newborn baby.
On the back, someone had written a date.
A date from twenty-nine years earlier.
Grace's hands trembled as she looked at me.
"Your wife hired me because she knew the truth about my birth.""
I stared at the photograph.
Then at Grace.
"Who are you?""
Her eyes filled with tears.
"I'm Isabelle's daughter.""
The room seemed to disappear around me.
Before I could speak, the basement door opened behind us.
A woman's voice floated up the stairs.
"Dominic?""
It was a voice I had heard in my nightmares for fourteen months.
A voice I would have recognized anywhere.
Isabelle's voice.
Grace went completely still.
My daughters began crying.
May you like
And from the darkness below, my dead wife's voice spoke again.
"Don't let Vincent get to the girls.""
