Chapter 3 - THE HOUSE WAS NEVER SECURE
The alarm was not a fire alarm.
I learned that because Damon’s entire security team reacted as if someone had fired a gun.
One man seized my arm and pulled me away from the windows.
Another spoke rapidly into his sleeve microphone.
“North gate breach. Camera loss, sector four. Repeat, sector four is dark.”
My first thought was Talia.
I ran.
Damon caught my shoulder.
“She’s with Rosa.”
“I don’t care.”
“Mara.”
“I am not standing here while my daughter—”
“Go.”
He did not finish the sentence.
He was already moving with me.
We reached the main house through the service corridor.
The Reyes estate looked almost peaceful from outside—gray stone, tall windows, ocean beyond clipped hedges—but inside, every hallway had become controlled chaos.
Security men closed interior doors.
Kitchen staff were moved into one room.
Visitors from Damon’s meeting were being escorted away from windows.
I found Rosa near the pantry with Talia in her arms.
My daughter reached for me.
“Mommy!”
I took her so fast I nearly knocked Rosa over.
“I’m here.”
Talia buried her face against my neck.
Damon’s security chief, Adrian Cole, appeared from the east hall holding a tablet.
“Gate sensor triggered at the north service entrance. Camera feed dropped four seconds before.”
“Vehicle?” Damon asked.
“None recorded.”
“Person?”
“Unknown.”
“Roy?”
Adrian’s mouth tightened.
“In the library.”
That surprised me.
“He didn’t leave?” I asked.
Damon shook his head.
“Roy doesn’t run when running makes him look guilty.”
He walked toward the library.
I should have stayed with Talia.
Every reasonable instinct told me to stay far away.
Instead, I followed.
Damon glanced back once but did not tell me to stop.
Roy stood beside the fireplace when we entered.
A leather folder rested on the table in front of him.
“I assume the lockdown theatrics are finished?” he asked.
Adrian placed the tablet beside Damon.
“Someone disabled a camera.”
Roy shrugged.
“Then replace the camera.”
Damon pointed to the folder.
“What’s that?”
“Evidence.”
My stomach tightened.
Roy opened it.
Inside were printed access logs.
Photographs.
A copy of my employment agreement.
Then he placed one page in front of Damon.
“This is the record of Mara Bell entering the restricted marine storage area four times in the past month.”
I stared.
“I’ve never been inside that boathouse before today.”
Roy did not look at me.
“The logs say otherwise.”
“They’re false.”
“Of course you’d say that.”
He removed another paper.
“This is a still image from the south service camera three weeks ago.”
The photograph showed a woman in a housekeeping uniform walking toward the cove.
Her face was partly turned.
Same hair color.
Same height.
At a glance, it could have been me.
It was not.
“That’s not me.”
Roy finally looked at me.
“You expect Damon to believe a housekeeper over encrypted access records?”
Talia heard him.
Her little fingers tightened around my collar.
Damon noticed.
“Don’t call her that like it makes her less credible.”
Roy’s eyes flicked toward him.
Damon picked up the access log.
“When did you print these?”
“Ten minutes ago.”
Adrian leaned over.
“These logs came from the internal archive?”
“Yes.”
Adrian zoomed in on a code at the bottom.
Then he smiled.
It was not a pleasant smile.
“No, they didn’t.”
Roy stopped.
Adrian turned the page toward Damon.
“Our archive changed checksum protocols eleven weeks ago. This report uses the old identifier.”
Roy recovered instantly.
“Then someone printed an archived template.”
“Why?”
“To produce the record.”
Adrian shook his head.
“No. The system does it automatically.”
Damon looked at Roy.
The room changed.
For the first time, Roy Castellin seemed to understand that history might not save him.
He closed the folder.
“You are making a serious mistake.”
“No,” Damon said. “I think my father made one.”
Roy’s nostrils flared.
Talia whispered against my shoulder.
“Mommy.”
“Yes, baby?”
“The bird man.”
Every adult turned toward her.
I felt cold.
“What?”
“The bird man.”
She pointed toward the garden windows.
“He was outside.”
Damon crossed the room.
“When?”
Talia looked frightened by the attention.
I rubbed her back.
“It’s okay. Tell Mommy.”
“When Miss Rosa made chocolate.”
“Where?”
“The flowers.”
Rosa covered her mouth.
“The greenhouse.”
Adrian was already speaking into his radio.
“Teams two and three, greenhouse. Now.”
Damon crouched in front of Talia.
“Did the bird man see you?”
She nodded.
“What did he do?”
“He said shhh.”
My heart slammed against my ribs.
“Did he come near you?”
“No.”
“Did he say anything else?”
Talia hesitated.
Then she whispered, “He said Mommy was naughty.”
Every muscle in Damon’s face went rigid.
Adrian ran from the room.
Roy said, “This is absurd.”
Damon turned.
“You know Blue Heron Freight?”
“I told you it is a vendor.”
“Then you’ll know the employee.”
“No.”
“Convenient.”
Damon ordered one of his men to remain with us, then went after Adrian.
This time I did stay behind.
For approximately forty seconds.
Then we heard shouting.
A crash of glass came from the rear hall.
I handed Talia to Rosa.
“Lock this door.”
“Mara—”
“Lock it.”
I stepped into the corridor.
A security man ran past.
“What happened?”
“Suspect in greenhouse.”
“Blue cap?”
He did not answer.
That was answer enough.
The greenhouse sat fifty yards from the main house.
By the time I reached it, one glass panel had shattered.
A man lay facedown in damp soil with Adrian’s knee between his shoulders.
The blue-heron cap had fallen beside a row of orchids.
I knew the narrow face immediately.
“That’s him.”
Damon looked at me.
“The boathouse?”
“Yes.”
The man began swearing.
Adrian pulled his arms tighter.
Damon crouched.
“What’s your name?”
No answer.
“Who hired you?”
The man laughed through a split lip.
“You know who.”
Damon glanced toward Roy, who had followed us with two guards.
Roy’s expression showed disgust.
“I have never seen that man.”
The prisoner laughed harder.
“Sure.”
Roy’s face changed.
Only a little.
Damon saw it.
“What did he pay you?” Damon asked.
The man’s grin disappeared.
“You think this is about money?”
“What is it about?”
The man turned his head enough to look at me.
“Cleaning a mistake.”
I felt my stomach contract.
Damon stepped between us.
“Look at me.”
The man did.
“Who ordered you to take Mara?”
His jaw tightened.
Damon did not threaten him.
He simply waited.
The man’s eyes moved toward Roy.
Then away.
That was enough for me.
But apparently not enough for Damon.
“Say it.”
The man swallowed.
“Castellin.”
Roy exploded.
“That is a lie.”
“Five grand up front,” the man continued. “Five after she disappeared.”
“Disappeared where?” I asked.
The man looked at me.
“Water.”
Rosa was right.
I should have stayed with my daughter.
My knees almost gave way.
Damon caught my elbow.
Roy stepped forward.
“This man is clearly being paid to implicate me.”
“By whom?” Damon asked.
“I don’t know.”
The prisoner smiled again.
Then he said something none of us expected.
“Roy isn’t the one you should be worried about.”
Everyone went silent.
Damon’s eyes narrowed.
“Explain.”
The man looked toward the house.
“Castellin organizes freight.”
“So?”
“He doesn’t control what’s inside the cartons.”
“Who does?”
The man hesitated.
Then every light in the greenhouse went out.
The estate fell dark.
A second later, someone screamed from the house.
“TALIA!”
I did not remember running.
I remembered only the darkness, the wet grass, and my own voice ripping out of my throat.
By the time I reached the pantry, the security lamp above the door had turned red.
Rosa was on the floor.
Alive.
Dazed.
May you like
The hot chocolate mug was shattered beside her.
And Talia was gone.
