Chapter 3 - The Woman in the Basement
For several seconds, the room seemed to tilt.
My father had been dead five years.
I had watched his coffin lowered into the ground.
Yet the document in front of me carried his signature dated three years after his funeral.
I looked at the scarred man.
“What is this?”
“A problem.”
“That isn’t an answer.”
“It’s the answer you came home to find.”
Valerie leaned back in her chair.
For the first time all day, she looked comfortable.
That frightened me.
I examined the document.
It appeared to be a property transfer agreement.
My father’s name was listed as a previous beneficial owner.
Valerie’s appeared beneath it.
My own name was mentioned in an attached clause.
“This is forged.”
The man shrugged.
“Maybe.”
“You brought it.”
“That doesn’t mean I believe it.”
Valerie snapped, “Marcus.”
So he had a name.
Marcus looked at her.
“Don’t.”
One word.
Her confidence slipped.
That interested me.
“You work for Valerie?” I asked.
“No.”
“Then why are you here?”
He looked toward the tenants.
“This conversation shouldn’t happen in front of them.”
I almost refused.
Then one tenant spoke.
Actually, she whispered.
“I want to stay.”
Everyone turned.
She was a college student named Nina.
She looked terrified.
“I think I know something.”
Valerie’s face changed.
“Nina, go upstairs.”
“No.”
“You’re renting a room in my house.”
“My house,” I corrected.
Valerie ignored me.
Nina swallowed.
“I saw Mrs. Mercer walking around normally.”
The room became silent.
“When?” I asked.
“Three weeks ago.”
Valerie stood.
“She gets confused. Sometimes she has good days.”
Nina shook her head.
“She wasn’t confused.”
“What did she say?” I asked.
Nina looked at Valerie.
“She told me she wasn’t sick.”
My pulse thudded.
“She said Valerie kept giving her something that made her sleepy.”
Valerie lunged toward the girl.
Marcus stepped between them.
He didn’t touch Valerie.
He simply stood there.
She stopped.
“You lying little—”
“Finish that sentence,” Marcus said quietly.
Valerie went silent.
I looked at him again.
This wasn’t what I expected.
“Whose side are you on?”
Marcus gave me a tired look.
“I stopped having sides a long time ago.”
Then my phone rang.
Hospital.
I answered immediately.
“Ms. Mercer? Your mother is awake.”
Everything else disappeared.
I grabbed my bag.
Marcus said, “I’ll drive.”
“No.”
“You need to hear something before you see her.”
“Then say it.”
He glanced at Valerie.
“Not here.”
I left anyway.
At the hospital, Mom looked tiny beneath white blankets.
But her eyes were open.
Clearer than I had seen them in months.
I approached slowly.
“Mom?”
She looked at me.
Then tears filled her eyes.
“My Chloe.”
I bent over her.
She held my face with both hands.
“You came home.”
“I’m sorry.”
“For what?”
“For not knowing.”
Her fingers trembled.
“You weren’t supposed to know.”
I pulled back.
“What does that mean?”
Fear crossed her face.
“Where’s Valerie?”
“At the house.”
Mom grabbed my wrist.
“Don’t trust her.”
“I don’t.”
“No.”
Her grip tightened with surprising strength.
“You don’t understand.”
“Then tell me.”
She looked toward the door.
“Your father left something.”
My breathing stopped.
“What?”
“Before he died.”
“What did he leave?”
She whispered two words.
“Behind furnace.”
The nurse entered before I could ask more.
Mom immediately closed her eyes.
Not because she was asleep.
Because she was afraid.
I sat there for another hour.
When I finally returned to the house, Marcus was sitting alone on the porch.
Valerie’s car was gone.
“Where is she?”
“She left.”
“You let her?”
“I’m not a cop.”
I stopped in front of him.
“Who are you?”
He stood.
“My name is Marcus Reed.”
“That tells me nothing.”
“I worked for your father.”
“My father owned a hardware store.”
Marcus almost smiled.
“Your father owned several things you didn’t know about.”
I stared at him.
“What does that mean?”
He held out another document.
This one was old.
A photograph was clipped to it.
Dad stood beside Marcus.
Both men were younger.
Behind them was the house.
On the back, Dad had written:
If anything happens to me, protect Evelyn. Protect the girls from the truth until the truth becomes safer than the lie.
I read it twice.
“What truth?”
Marcus looked toward the basement door.
“I think your mother just told you where to find it.”
We went downstairs.
The cot was empty now.
Without Mom lying there, the basement somehow looked worse.
I moved toward the furnace.
“Behind it.”
Marcus switched on his phone flashlight.
There was barely enough room between the furnace and the concrete wall.
I reached behind.
Nothing.
Then my fingertips touched metal.
A small latch.
Marcus helped move an old shelving unit.
Behind it was a rectangular panel painted the same gray as the wall.
My heart began pounding.
I opened it.
Inside was a narrow compartment.
Empty.
Except for one thing.
A fresh white envelope.
My name was written across the front.
CHLOE.
I recognized the handwriting immediately.
Valerie’s.
I tore it open.
There was one sentence.
May you like
If Mom told you about this place, you’re already too late.
Then the basement lights went out.
