Chapter 5 - THE NOTE IN THE LAUNDRY ROOM
By noon, Dominic’s mansion had become a fortress.
Extra guards stood at every entrance.
Every employee had been interviewed.
Every vehicle on the property had been searched.
No one had been permitted to leave.
Arthur hated it.
“This is becoming absurd,” he said as he followed Dominic through the great room.
Dominic walked slowly but steadily.
With the brace corrected, his leg still hurt, but the sensation was no longer unbearable.
“You’re free to find absurdity somewhere else when I’m finished.”
“You cannot imprison your own employees.”
“I asked them to stay.”
“With armed men at the doors.”
Dominic stopped.
Arthur stopped too.
“You’re worried,” Arthur said.
Dominic looked at him.
“I’m alive because I worry.”
Arthur lowered his voice.
“And because I’ve spent twenty-two years worrying for you.”
That sentence might once have mattered.
Now Dominic heard only the number.
Twenty-two years.
Long enough to know every routine.
Every weakness.
Every security pattern.
“Then help me,” Dominic said.
Arthur’s expression softened slightly.
“How?”
“Tell me what you were doing beside my brace.”
Arthur stared at him.
“I already did.”
“No.”
Dominic stepped closer.
“You told me you dropped something.”
Arthur’s face remained controlled.
“Correct.”
“What?”
“My pen.”
“Where is it?”
Arthur almost laughed.
“My pen?”
“The one worth kneeling beside my chair for.”
Arthur reached into his jacket.
He removed a black fountain pen.
Dominic looked at it.
Arthur extended it.
“Would you like fingerprints?”
Dominic ignored the gesture.
“Did Ellie see you touch the brace?”
“No.”
“Did you?”
Arthur’s eyes hardened.
“No.”
Dominic held his gaze.
Neither man blinked.
Then Clare screamed.
The sound came from the service wing.
Dominic turned immediately.
Vincent appeared from the hallway at a run.
They reached the laundry room seconds later.
Clare stood beside an open employee locker.
Her face was white.
Ellie clung to her skirt.
Dominic looked inside.
A folded piece of paper lay on top of Clare’s handbag.
Vincent put on gloves before touching it.
He unfolded the note.
Four words had been printed in black marker.
TAKE THE GIRL AND LEAVE.
Clare’s breath shook.
Dominic’s expression became cold.
“Who opened this locker?”
“No one,” Clare whispered. “It was locked.”
Vincent examined the latch.
“No damage.”
Dominic looked at Clare.
“Who has a key?”
“Housekeeping supervisor.”
“And you?”
“Yes.”
“Anyone else?”
“Master maintenance key.”
Vincent cursed softly.
Arthur arrived behind them.
“What happened?”
Nobody answered.
He saw the note.
His face changed.
“That could be a prank.”
Vincent turned on him.
“A threat against a four-year-old is not a prank.”
Arthur raised both hands.
“I agree. I’m saying whoever did this wants us reacting emotionally.”
Dominic looked at him.
“Interesting choice of words.”
Arthur sighed.
“You think I threatened the child?”
“I think somebody did.”
Clare knelt and wrapped both arms around Ellie.
The girl looked confused rather than frightened.
That somehow made it worse.
Dominic crouched carefully until he was closer to her height.
“Ellie.”
She looked at him.
“You and your mom are going to stay upstairs.”
“Why?”
“Because I need your help.”
Ellie considered that.
“With the latches?”
Dominic glanced at her wooden board.
“Yes.”
She nodded seriously.
“Okay.”
Clare looked at him.
“We can leave.”
“No.”
“If she’s in danger because of what she saw—”
“She’s in danger because somebody thinks frightening you will make a problem disappear.”
Dominic stood.
“I don’t reward that.”
Clare’s eyes filled with worry.
“We don’t belong in this.”
Dominic’s voice lowered.
“You didn’t choose it.”
Neither did Ellie.
That mattered to him.
More than he wanted anyone in the room to know.
Vincent began checking staff entries.
The locker had been accessed sometime between seven and eleven that morning.
Forty-three people had moved through the service wing.
No useful camera angle existed.
Another blind spot.
Dominic’s irritation grew.
His house had been built around protecting him from men carrying guns.
Nobody had considered the danger of someone who knew where cameras did not look.
At three that afternoon, a courier van arrived at the front gate.
Security stopped it.
There was no scheduled delivery.
The driver insisted the package had been prepaid.
Recipient:
Dominic Vale.
No sender.
Vincent ordered the package scanned before bringing it inside.
No explosive.
No electronics.
Dominic opened it in his office.
Inside was a small black case.
Mercer stood beside him.
Arthur watched from the doorway.
Vincent opened the case.
A silver orthopedic component lay inside.
Identical to the one removed from Dominic’s brace.
Beside it was Dominic’s hospital identification bracelet from the night of his original injury.
Mercer stared.
“How did anyone get that?”
Dominic picked up the bracelet.
His full name.
Date of birth.
Hospital number.
Everything.
Arthur’s expression finally lost its polish.
“That bracelet should have been destroyed.”
Mercer nodded slowly.
“Yes.”
Vincent looked at Dominic.
“This started before the brace reached the house.”
Dominic turned the bracelet over.
Something had been written on the inside in tiny black letters.
Not a threat.
A date.
Three days from now.
Dominic looked at Arthur.
“What happens Friday?”
Arthur did not answer.
Dominic already knew.
May you like
Friday was the quarterly council meeting.
And if Dominic was medically unable to attend, the man scheduled to preside in his place was Arthur Voss.
