Chapter 3 - A House Full of Liars
I forgot the footsteps.
I forgot Julian.
I forgot poisoned medicine and hidden passages and every dangerous person beneath that roof.
Alexander had said my name.
His eyes were barely open, unfocused beneath the lingering effects of sedation, but they were open.
“Alexander?”
His gaze moved slowly toward me.
“Claire.”
Rebecca hurried to his side.
“Mr. Romano, don’t try to sit up.”
Naturally, Alexander tried to sit up.
Even half-conscious, apparently nobody told Alexander Romano what to do.
His muscles tightened beneath the blanket.
Then his face twisted with pain.
I placed my hand against his shoulder.
“Please.”
He looked at me.
And stopped.
Rebecca checked his pupils.
“Can you tell me your name?”
Alexander stared at her.
She waited.
Finally he said, “If you’re in my house and don’t know my name, security has gotten worse.”
Vincent almost smiled.
Almost.
Then the footsteps outside moved again.
Every trace of humor vanished.
Vincent drew his weapon and positioned himself beside the door.
Rebecca’s face went white.
Eleanor pulled her backward.
The handle moved.
Locked.
Someone entered a code.
A red light flashed.
Incorrect.
Again.
Incorrect.
Vincent gestured for silence.
Then a voice came from the hallway.
“Vincent?”
One of the guards.
Daniel Cross.
Vincent relaxed slightly.
“Identify.”
“Cross. Alpha-seven.”
Vincent opened the door two inches.
Cross stood alone.
“Why are you here?”
“Motion alert.”
“You weren’t assigned to this sector.”
“No. The system dispatched me.”
Vincent’s eyes hardened.
“I disabled automatic dispatch.”
Cross looked genuinely confused.
“Then someone turned it back on.”
That was worse.
Vincent stepped into the hall.
I turned back toward Alexander.
He was watching me.
More alert now.
His eyes moved to my hand.
I realized I was still holding his.
I tried to pull away.
His fingers closed around mine.
Weakly.
But intentionally.
“You stayed.”
It wasn’t a question.
“Someone had to.”
His expression changed.
“You always stay.”
My heart stumbled.
Did he remember?
The confession.
Rain.
My hand around his.
But before I could find out, Vincent returned.
“Alexander.”
The softness disappeared from Alexander’s expression.
“What happened?”
Vincent glanced at me.
I told him.
Everything.
The fever.
The pills.
Keller.
Julian.
The recording.
Alexander listened without interrupting.
When I finished, he stared at the ceiling for several seconds.
“My brother.”
“I’m sorry,” I said.
He looked at me.
“Don’t be. I’m not surprised.”
That answer somehow hurt more than anger would have.
Vincent stepped closer.
“Keller says Julian isn’t running it.”
“He’s right.”
We all looked at Alexander.
“You know who is?”
“No.”
“Then how—”
“Julian couldn’t organize breakfast without telling six people.”
Despite everything, Eleanor almost laughed.
Alexander continued.
“If he’s part of this, someone recruited him.”
“Who?”
Alexander’s eyes turned toward Vincent.
“You tell me.”
The room changed.
Vincent’s face became unreadable.
“You think I’m involved?”
“I think anyone capable of reaching me inside this house is someone I trusted.”
That included Vincent.
And Eleanor.
And perhaps me.
Alexander looked around the room.
“From now on, nobody is innocent because I like them.”
His eyes rested on mine.
“Not even you.”
The words stung.
But I understood.
If he survived by trusting emotion instead of evidence, he wouldn’t have survived very long.
“What do you need?” I asked.
“A list.”
“Of?”
“Everyone who knew I was sick before the public announcement.”
Vincent opened his tablet.
“Twenty-three people.”
“Cut it down. Who knew which medications Keller prescribed?”
“Seven.”
“Who could access my bedroom unsupervised?”
“Five.”
“Names.”
Vincent hesitated.
“Me. Eleanor. Keller. Julian.”
“And?”
Silence.
Alexander’s gaze sharpened.
“Vincent.”
“Claire.”
I stopped breathing.
Alexander looked at me.
“Claire?”
Vincent nodded.
“As part of domestic medical support, her access was unrestricted once you became ill.”
Alexander said nothing.
I felt suddenly exposed.
“I didn’t—”
“I know.”
“You just said nobody is innocent.”
“I said nobody is innocent because I like them.”
His voice remained weak, but his eyes were clearer.
“That isn’t the same as saying I think you did it.”
My face warmed.
Rebecca pretended to focus very intensely on the monitor.
Vincent continued.
“There is another problem.”
“What?”
“The fake medication appeared three days before Julian returned from London.”
Alexander became completely still.
That changed everything.
Julian might be involved now.
But someone had begun the plan before he arrived.
“Who handled the first delivery?” Alexander asked.
Vincent checked.
“Keller’s office sent it through a medical courier.”
“And who signed for it?”
Vincent’s expression changed.
“Eleanor.”
Everyone looked at her.
Eleanor seemed almost offended.
“Yes, I signed for it. I sign for half the deliveries in this house.”
“Where did you put it?” Vincent asked.
“In the locked medicine cabinet.”
“Who had the key?”
“Myself and…” She stopped.
“And?”
Her face lost color.
“Thomas.”
Alexander looked at her.
“Thomas Reed?”
The butler.
Seventy-one years old.
He had served the Romano family longer than Eleanor.
Alexander’s father had trusted him enough to hold the keys to almost every room.
I remembered Thomas as quiet, formal and unfailingly kind.
He had taught me how to polish the antique silver without scratching it.
He brought me soup when I had the flu.
“He wouldn’t,” Eleanor said.
Alexander’s expression was unreadable.
“Find him.”
Vincent called the staff office.
No answer.
He called Thomas’s private quarters.
Nothing.
Cross searched the kitchen.
Empty.
Laundry wing.
Empty.
Garage.
Empty.
Then one of Vincent’s men reported something unusual.
Thomas Reed’s car was still parked outside.
His coat was still hanging beside the servants’ entrance.
His wallet was in his bedroom.
But Thomas himself had vanished.
They searched the estate.
Thirty-eight rooms.
Four floors.
Two basements.
Guest cottages.
Gardens.
Boathouse.
Nothing.
At 2:43 p.m., Cross found the first clue.
A broken cup in the old wine cellar.
At 2:47, he found blood on the floor.
Not much.
But enough.
At 2:51, Vincent discovered that one of the cellar walls contained another hidden door.
The Romano mansion seemed to have more secrets than rooms.
Behind the wall was a narrow corridor.
At the end lay Thomas Reed.
Alive.
Barely.
His hands were bound.
A cloth covered his mouth.
Rebecca rushed downstairs.
We followed.
Thomas’s eyes fluttered open when Alexander, against every medical recommendation, appeared supported between Vincent and me.
The old butler stared at him.
“Sir…”
“Who did this?”
Thomas’s lips trembled.
“Couldn’t… stop them.”
“Who?”
“They wanted… your father’s papers.”
Alexander froze.
“What papers?”
Thomas’s gaze moved toward me.
Strangely.
Specifically.
Then he whispered something none of us expected.
“Ask Claire.”
I stared at him.
“Me?”
His fingers closed around my wrist.
“Your mother…”
My entire body went cold.
“What about my mother?”
Thomas struggled for breath.
“She knew.”
“Knew what?”
His eyes rolled closed.
Rebecca pushed us back.
But before Thomas lost consciousness, he managed four more words.
“Your mother worked here.”
The cellar suddenly felt smaller.
My mother had never told me she knew the Romanos.
She had never told me she had set foot on this estate.
And as Alexander stared at me, I realized something far worse.
May you like
My hiring here might never have been an accident.
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