Chapter 17 - The Last Person in the House
The photograph had been taken from inside the nursery.
After the lockdown.
After police.
After every employee had been checked.
Someone still had access.
Vincent reviewed the logs.
One credential entered the nursery at 5:12 a.m.
CLAIRE WHITMORE.
Alexander stared at the screen.
“That card was deactivated when she died.”
“Someone cloned it,” Vincent said.
The camera showed only six seconds of static.
Then a figure in a maintenance uniform crossing the hall.
I recognized the limp.
“Victor Cole.”
Vincent went pale.
His brother had escaped the barn before police secured the perimeter.
He had never been arrested.
And now he was inside the estate.
We moved Noah to the panic room.
Alexander refused to leave.
At 5:40, the fire alarm activated in the west wing.
At 5:42, power to the security hub failed.
At 5:43, I heard a knock on the panic-room door.
Three slow taps.
Then Victor’s voice.
“Rachel, I only need the baby.”
I held Noah tighter.
Alexander stood beside the door with a fireplace poker because security weapons were locked outside.
Victor laughed softly.
“You still think this is about inheritance?”
Alexander said nothing.
“It’s about leverage.”
“For who?”
Victor paused.
Then said a name we had not expected.
“Vanessa.”
Alexander frowned.
“She’s in custody.”
“No,” Victor said. “She was.”
Vincent’s phone buzzed.
May you like
County transport had been attacked twenty minutes earlier.
Vanessa Whitmore was gone.
