Chapter 2 - Footsteps Above the Cellar
The handle stopped halfway down.
Roman raised one finger toward Claire.
Stay quiet.
She nodded.
The door opened three inches.
A narrow beam from a flashlight cut across the darkness.
Roman waited behind the stone column, controlling his breathing.
The intruder outside did not enter immediately.
Professional.
Roman understood what that meant.
Whoever stood beyond the door expected resistance.
The flashlight moved slowly across the wine racks.
Then a voice whispered, “Caleb?”
The man on the floor had a name.
Claire looked at Roman.
He pressed a finger to his lips.
“Caleb?”
The door opened wider.
A shadow stepped inside.
Roman moved.
Fast.
He caught the stranger’s wrist, drove it away from Claire and forced him against the wall.
The flashlight struck the floor.
The stranger twisted hard.
Roman recognized the movement.
Security training.
Blackridge security training.
Roman froze for half a heartbeat.
That was enough for the man to tear free.
He fled through the doorway.
Roman followed.
“Stay here!”
Claire ignored him.
Roman reached the staircase as the shadow disappeared around the upper landing.
He caught only a glimpse.
Black uniform.
Broad shoulders.
A familiar radio clipped to the belt.
One of his own guards.
By the time Roman reached the hall, the man had vanished.
Then emergency lights flickered on.
Red illumination filled the corridor.
Claire appeared behind him.
“I told you to stay downstairs.”
“You also told me somebody dead is attacking your house.”
“Fair point.”
A distant alarm finally began sounding.
Roman’s phone regained one bar.
He called Ethan Mercer.
His security chief answered on the first ring.
“Boss?”
“Where are you?”
“West security station.”
“Stay there.”
A pause.
“Something happened?”
Roman looked at Claire.
“You tell me.”
Silence.
Then Ethan said, “The east network just crashed. I’m sending men.”
“No.”
“Roman—”
“Nobody moves until I arrive.”
Roman ended the call.
Claire studied him.
“You don’t trust him.”
“I trust patterns.”
“What pattern?”
“The man downstairs knew how my systems worked. The person who entered the cellar knew exactly where to look. Somebody disabled communications without triggering the primary alarms.”
“And Ethan controls security.”
“Yes.”
Claire hugged herself.
“But if Ethan wanted you dead, wouldn’t he have had a thousand easier opportunities?”
Roman looked at her.
That was a good question.
It was exactly the kind of question most terrified employees would never ask him.
“Which is why we don’t accuse him yet.”
They crossed toward the west wing.
Halfway there, they encountered two security officers.
Both drew their weapons until they recognized Roman.
“Mr. Vale.”
“Lower them.”
They obeyed.
“Where’s Mercer?”
“Control room.”
“Has anyone left the property?”
“No, sir. Gates automatically locked when the network crashed.”
Roman stopped.
“Automatically?”
“Yes.”
That was not standard protocol.
Blackridge’s gates were designed to open during a total electrical failure.
Roman had personally ordered it years earlier after a fire made him understand the danger of electronically sealed exits.
Someone had changed the system.
“When was that protocol updated?”
The guard looked uncertain.
“I don’t know.”
Roman turned to Claire.
“Stay with them.”
“No.”
It came out instantly.
All three men looked at her.
Claire straightened.
Roman raised an eyebrow.
She lowered her voice.
“Respectfully… no.”
One of the guards suddenly found the floor fascinating.
Roman almost smiled again.
“Why?”
“Because somebody downstairs already grabbed me while your security system was working perfectly.”
Fair point number two.
“Stay beside me.”
They reached the control room.
Ethan Mercer stood before twelve monitors.
He was fifty-three, silver-haired, broad-shouldered, and had worked for Roman for fourteen years.
More importantly, he had saved Roman’s life twice.
Ethan looked from Roman to Claire.
Then to Claire’s bruised wrist.
His expression hardened.
“What happened?”
Roman placed the bypass device on the desk.
Ethan stared at it.
“Where did you get that?”
“East cellar.”
Ethan picked it up carefully.
“Whoever brought this knew exactly what system we use.”
“I know.”
“Was somebody down there?”
“Yes.”
Ethan looked at Claire.
She said nothing.
Roman answered.
“One dead intruder. One living person escaped.”
Ethan’s head snapped toward him.
“Escaped where?”
“Upstairs.”
“You saw him?”
“Partially.”
“Description?”
“Security uniform.”
Everything in the control room changed.
Four guards immediately looked at one another.
Ethan’s expression became ice.
“Seal interior zones.”
A technician started typing.
Roman stopped him.
“No.”
Ethan turned.
“Roman, one of my people may be compromised.”
“Or someone wants us to think that.”
Ethan stared at him.
“Explain.”
“The man who entered the cellar used Blackridge defensive movement.”
Ethan’s jaw tightened.
“Half the guards I’ve hired came through the same training company.”
“And the radio?”
“What about it?”
“Current model. Current Blackridge frequency.”
Ethan looked toward his own radio.
Then he understood.
Someone was not merely impersonating security.
Someone had access to their equipment.
Roman leaned closer.
“Who can issue replacement radios?”
“Me. Operations manager. Equipment supervisor.”
“Names.”
“Lena Ortiz and Marcus Reed.”
“Where are they?”
Ethan looked at the monitor.
“Ortiz is in security housing. Reed…”
He stopped.
Roman noticed.
“Where is Reed?”
“Supposed to be off tonight.”
Claire spoke quietly.
“Supposed to be?”
Ethan checked another screen.
“His vehicle is still on the property.”
Roman stared at the image.
Marcus Reed’s black SUV sat beside the employee garage.
No driver.
No movement.
Then Claire pointed.
“What’s that?”
Camera twelve showed the eastern courtyard.
At first Roman saw nothing.
Then movement appeared near a row of hedges.
A person.
Black clothing.
Running.
“Zoom.”
The technician enlarged the image.
The figure sprinted toward the old greenhouse.
Ethan reached for his radio.
Roman stopped him.
“No transmissions.”
“Why?”
“Because whoever is doing this may be listening.”
Ethan looked furious.
“You think one of my people is feeding them information?”
“I think somebody wants me to react before I understand the game.”
Roman turned.
“Ethan, you stay here.”
“That’s a terrible idea.”
“It wasn’t a suggestion.”
Roman looked at Claire.
“You stay too.”
She crossed her arms.
“No.”
Roman stared.
Ethan actually coughed to hide his amusement.
Claire added, “The intruder saw me. If this has something to do with what I heard, I may recognize something useful.”
Roman wanted to argue.
Instead, he handed her a heavy flashlight.
“Stay behind me.”
They approached the greenhouse through an interior passage.
Rain had begun outside.
The old glass structure stood fifty yards from the main house.
Roman opened the side door.
Inside, tropical plants cast distorted shadows against fogged glass.
No lights.
No movement.
Roman stepped between the rows.
Claire followed.
Something clicked.
Roman turned.
A tiny speaker sat on a potting table.
A red light blinked.
Then a recorded voice filled the greenhouse.
“Hello, Roman.”
Roman stopped breathing.
Seven years disappeared.
Claire looked at him.
He knew that voice.
Gabriel Kane.
Older.
Rougher.
But unmistakable.
“You buried me too quickly.”
Roman approached the speaker.
The recording continued.
“You’ve always had one weakness. You believe that once you survive a betrayal, you understand it.”
A small screen beside the speaker illuminated.
One photograph appeared.
Roman at twenty-one.
Beside him stood Gabriel Kane.
And between them stood Roman’s father, Vincent Vale.
Claire watched Roman’s face.
The recording continued.
“You never understood what happened that night.”
Another image appeared.
A hospital corridor.
Timestamped seven years earlier.
Two hours after Gabriel supposedly died.
Gabriel Kane was walking through it.
Alive.
Roman felt the ground shift beneath everything he believed.
Then the final image appeared.
It had been taken that evening.
Inside Blackridge.
Claire carrying a tray through the dining room.
Someone had photographed her from less than twenty feet away.
Words appeared beneath it.
SHE WAS NOT SUPPOSED TO SEE HIM.
Claire went pale.
Roman stepped in front of the screen instinctively.
The speaker crackled one final time.
“Give me what your father stole, Roman, and perhaps the girl gets to keep breathing.”
The recording ended.
Silence filled the greenhouse.
Claire’s voice shook.
“What did your father steal?”
Roman stared at the photograph.
“I don’t know.”
That was true.
And for the first time in twenty years, Roman Vale realized the most dangerous secret inside Blackridge might be one he did not possess.
Behind them, the greenhouse door slammed shut.
May you like
Then somebody locked it from the outside.
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