Chapter 2 - The House With Too Many Locks
Rue had imagined Harlan Voss lived in a mansion.
She hadn't imagined the gates.
There were three.
The first was iron.
The second required a security code.
The third opened only after a guard leaned toward the SUV and physically looked at Harlan.
Beyond them stood a stone house overlooking the frozen Detroit River.
Belle slept against Harlan's chest during the entire drive.
Rue sat opposite them.
Nobody spoke.
She kept thinking about the camera.
And the cuff link.
And her eviction notice sitting inside a purse one of Harlan's men had retrieved from the garage.
At the house, Belle disappeared upstairs with two doctors.
Rue tried to follow.
A security man blocked her.
Harlan appeared behind him.
“Let her through.”
Rue looked at him.
“Why?”
“Belle asked for you.”
That answer landed differently than she'd expected.
Upstairs, Belle had been tucked beneath white blankets. Color had begun returning to her cheeks.
Rue sat beside her.
Belle reached for her hand.
“You stayed.”
“I told you I would.”
Harlan stood in the doorway.
Something shifted in his expression.
Small.
Gone almost immediately.
Belle fell asleep ten minutes later.
Rue quietly left the room.
Harlan waited in the hall.
“Thank you.”
She stopped.
Those two words sounded expensive coming from him.
“You're welcome.”
“I owe you.”
“No.”
His eyebrow moved.
“No?”
Rue folded her arms.
“I know men like you hate owing people. So don't.”
“You don't know men like me.”
“Probably a good thing.”
For the first time, Rue thought he might smile.
He didn't.
“Come downstairs.”
The library looked like a room built by somebody who didn't believe in comfort. Dark wood. Leather. A fireplace burning behind black iron.
Three men waited around a table.
One introduced himself as Jonah Pike, Harlan's security chief.
Another was Elias Trent, family attorney.
The third said nothing.
On the table lay photographs.
Employees.
Drivers.
Housekeepers.
Security personnel.
Family.
Harlan placed one photograph in front of Rue.
A handsome man in his late thirties.
“Victor Voss,” he said.
“Your brother.”
“Yes.”
Rue studied him.
Victor looked nothing like Harlan except around the eyes.
“Was he here tonight?”
“He was at dinner.”
“With Belle?”
“With all of us.”
“Did they argue?”
Harlan's expression hardened.
“She is six.”
“That wasn't my question.”
Jonah glanced at Harlan as though waiting for an explosion.
None came.
Harlan sat opposite Rue.
“Victor gave Belle a music box last month. She broke it. He was angry.”
“How angry?”
“Not enough to hurt her.”
“You're defending him now?”
“I said he was angry. I didn't say he was a monster.”
Rue pushed the photograph back.
“Then why did you look like you wanted to kill somebody when you saw his cuff link?”
Silence.
Elias suddenly found the fireplace fascinating.
Harlan leaned back.
“Victor and I have been fighting over control of Voss Meridian Holdings.”
“What does that have to do with Belle?”
“I don't know yet.”
Rue noticed something.
“You said Voss Meridian?”
“Yes.”
“The garage was beside the Meridian Theater.”
Harlan became still.
Jonah looked up.
Rue continued.
“Coincidence?”
“No,” Harlan said.
One word.
Heavy.
The abandoned theater had once belonged to Harlan's father.
That changed the room.
Harlan explained that Augustus Voss had built the family's original shipping business from an office above the Meridian Theater. After his death, the building was abandoned during a property dispute.
Victor had recently pushed to sell it.
Harlan refused.
“Why?”
“My father wanted it kept.”
Rue looked at Victor's photograph again.
“So Belle was left at a building your brother wants sold while holding something belonging to him.”
“Yes.”
“That's too obvious.”
Harlan's gaze sharpened.
“Explain.”
“If Victor wanted to hurt Belle, why leave his jewelry in her hand?”
Nobody answered.
Rue pointed at the photograph.
“Either your brother is the stupidest criminal in Detroit, or somebody wants you looking at him.”
Jonah exhaled softly.
Harlan stared at Rue.
“You wait tables?”
“Yes.”
“You always interrogate customers?”
“Only the ones who kidnap me after midnight.”
“I didn't kidnap you.”
“You have three gates.”
That almost-smile appeared again.
Then Jonah's phone rang.
He stepped away.
Rue reached into her purse for her own phone.
Six missed calls.
Her landlord.
She turned the screen facedown.
Too late.
Harlan had seen.
“Problem?”
“No.”
“Rue.”
“My life existed before tonight.”
“What problem?”
She hated how quickly embarrassment heated her face.
“Rent.”
Harlan said nothing.
Rue stood.
“And before you reach for your wallet, don't.”
“I wasn't.”
“You were thinking about it.”
“I was thinking your landlord has remarkable timing.”
“He's changing the locks Friday.”
Harlan's eyes lowered briefly to her waitress shoes.
Then back to her face.
“How much?”
“No.”
“Rue—”
“I didn't save your daughter for money.”
“I know.”
His answer came instantly.
That stopped her.
Harlan stood.
“I know exactly why you saved her.”
“How?”
“Because you didn't know whose daughter she was until after you'd already taken off your coat.”
Rue didn't have an answer.
Jonah returned.
His expression had changed.
“Harlan.”
“What?”
“We pulled the exterior footage from the house.”
He placed a tablet on the table.
The video showed Belle leaving the dining room at 8:14 p.m.
At 8:17, Victor entered the west corridor behind her.
At 8:21, a security camera went black.
At 8:29, Victor's car left the property.
Harlan stared at the screen.
Rue leaned closer.
“Can you see who's driving?”
“No.”
Jonah froze the image.
Victor's black sedan passed the gate.
A small silhouette was visible in the rear seat.
Rue felt cold.
Belle.
Harlan's hand closed around the edge of the table.
Then Rue's phone vibrated.
UNKNOWN NUMBER.
She opened the message.
A photograph loaded.
Rue standing in the parking garage.
Holding Belle.
Taken from behind the concrete pillar.
Underneath were five words.
YOU SHOULD HAVE KEPT WALKING.
Rue stopped breathing.
Harlan took the phone from her.
The room changed instantly.
“Jonah.”
“I'll trace it.”
Harlan looked toward the windows.
Then back at Rue.
“You're staying here.”
Rue wanted to argue.
She couldn't.
Because the photograph hadn't come from a security camera.
It had been taken by a person.
Someone had been standing less than twenty feet away while she tried to keep Belle alive.
Watching.
May you like
And whoever it was now knew exactly who Rue Callaway was.
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