Chapter 4 - The House With No Cameras
Alexander drove.
Samantha hated that.
She hated almost everything about the plan.
They should have called the police and stayed where they were.
They should have sent professionals.
They should not have been racing north through rain toward a house that someone had clearly penetrated.
But the photograph changed everything.
Claire and Theo were not theoretical risks.
They were already inside the danger.
Alexander’s hands locked around the steering wheel.
“Faster,” Samantha said.
He looked at her.
“I am going eighty-two.”
“You’re a billionaire. Buy the ticket.”
He pressed the accelerator.
The roads outside Manhattan thinned.
Rain softened.
Samantha tried Claire’s phone again.
Nothing.
Theo’s phone went directly to voicemail.
“What kind of security does the house have?” she asked.
“Perimeter sensors. Cameras. Three rotating guards.”
“And nobody called you?”
“No.”
“Who controls the system?”
“Nolan Price.”
“Your head of security?”
“Yes.”
“The man you wanted to call earlier.”
Alexander’s jaw tightened.
“I get your point.”
“No, I want you to get another one. Someone didn’t only know where Claire was. They knew how to make three professional guards disappear from communication.”
“Maybe they’re dead.”
Samantha looked at him.
“Don’t say that unless we know.”
Ten minutes later, the estate appeared beyond stone gates.
No guards.
The gates stood open.
Alexander slowed.
Samantha grabbed his arm.
“No headlights.”
He turned them off.
The vehicle rolled forward in darkness.
The mansion was visible through the trees.
Three floors.
Large windows.
No lights except the warm glow of the living room.
Alexander whispered, “That’s where the photograph was taken.”
Samantha studied the property.
No visible movement.
No damaged doors.
No broken windows.
Almost too normal.
“What are you seeing?” Alexander asked.
“Nothing.”
“That’s good.”
“No.”
She unfastened her seat belt.
“That’s bad.”
They parked fifty yards from the house.
Samantha opened the glove compartment.
A flashlight.
Vehicle registration.
Emergency kit.
Nothing useful as a weapon.
She took the flashlight.
Alexander watched.
“You expect me to stay here?”
“I expect nothing useful from you right now.”
“I own the house.”
“Congratulations.”
“My sister is inside.”
“And if you rush through the front door and get shot, I’ll have two patients instead of one rescue.”
“You’re very comforting under pressure.”
“People tell me that.”
They approached from the side.
The front security camera was dark.
Samantha pointed.
“Disabled.”
Alexander whispered, “Could have lost power.”
“The porch light is on.”
They continued.
Samantha stopped near the garage.
She smelled something.
Faint.
Not enough to identify.
Then she heard a generator running.
“Does this house have backup power?”
“Yes.”
“Where’s the generator?”
“Separate building behind the garage.”
“This sound is inside.”
Alexander frowned.
Samantha moved toward a side door.
Locked.
She looked through the glass.
A security guard was on the kitchen floor.
Alexander pushed past her.
She grabbed him.
“He might be alive.”
“That’s why I’m going in.”
“Then do it without becoming the second body.”
Alexander entered his code.
The door unlocked.
They stepped inside.
The air felt wrong.
Heavy.
Warm.
Samantha’s head began to ache almost immediately.
She looked toward the floor.
A portable gasoline generator sat near the mudroom entrance.
Running.
Inside the house.
Her blood turned cold.
“Alexander, out.”
“What?”
“OUT!”
She dragged him backward.
“Carbon monoxide.”
His face changed.
“Claire.”
Samantha covered her mouth with her sleeve.
“Open every exterior door you can reach without going upstairs.”
“I’m coming with you.”
“No.”
“Absolutely not.”
“You go upstairs, you pass out, and I have to carry a six-foot-three billionaire down two flights of stairs.”
“I’m six-two.”
“This is your objection?”
Alexander yanked off his shirt, soaked it beneath an exterior rain gutter and pressed the fabric over his mouth.
Samantha stared at him.
“I’m going.”
She knew that look.
There would be no stopping him.
“Thirty seconds inside, then out for air.”
They ran.
Claire was in the living room.
Unconscious.
Theo was beside her.
Neither moved.
Alexander’s face went white.
Samantha dropped to her knees.
“Claire has a pulse.”
She checked Theo.
Weak.
Too slow.
“Theo!”
Alexander lifted the boy.
“Outside!”
Samantha took Claire beneath the arms.
Alexander carried Theo onto the lawn.
Then he ran back.
Together they dragged Claire into the rain.
Samantha rolled her onto her side and opened her airway.
“Theo’s not breathing right.”
She moved to him.
Shallow respirations.
Gray lips.
“Call 911.”
Alexander did.
Samantha began assisted breaths.
“Theo, stay with me.”
No response.
“Come on.”
She opened the emergency kit she had carried from the car and fitted the small barrier mask.
Another breath.
Another.
Theo’s chest rose.
Alexander knelt beside Claire.
“She’s breathing.”
“Keep her on her side.”
A groan came from the house.
The security guard.
Alexander looked up.
“I’m getting him.”
“No.”
“He’ll die.”
Before Samantha could stop him, Alexander ran inside.
“Damn it.”
Theo coughed.
Samantha turned his head.
He sucked in a ragged breath.
“Good boy. Again.”
His eyelids fluttered.
“Uncle Alex?”
“He’s here.”
“Where?”
Samantha looked toward the house.
No Alexander.
Twenty seconds.
Thirty.
Forty.
She stood.
“Stay with your mom.”
She ran inside.
The headache hit harder.
Alexander was in the kitchen, trying to drag the guard.
Samantha grabbed the man’s other arm.
Together they pulled him through the side door.
They had barely reached the lawn when glass exploded behind them.
A gunshot.
Samantha dropped.
“Down!”
Alexander covered Theo.
A second shot struck the brick wall.
Someone was firing from the trees.
Samantha crawled toward the stone garden wall.
“Can you move Claire?”
“Yes.”
“Take her and Theo behind the wall.”
“What about you?”
“I’m right behind you.”
“You said that last time.”
“And I meant it.”
Sirens sounded far away.
Whoever was attacking heard them too.
Two more shots came.
Then silence.
Samantha waited.
Ten seconds.
Nothing.
She looked toward the tree line.
A dark figure ran between the trunks.
Alexander reached for his phone.
“Police are eight minutes out.”
“The shooter won’t stay eight minutes.”
Theo coughed.
Samantha crawled to him.
“Hey.”
His eyes opened.
He looked frightened and confused.
“You’re the nurse.”
She blinked.
“What?”
“Uncle Alex has a picture of you.”
Samantha slowly turned toward Alexander.
Even in the dark, she saw him freeze.
“This feels like a conversation for another time,” he said.
Claire groaned.
Alexander focused on her.
Samantha almost smiled.
Then the security guard began waking.
He gasped.
“Mr. Cole?”
Alexander moved closer.
“Daniel, what happened?”
The guard’s eyes widened.
“Price.”
Alexander stiffened.
“Nolan Price?”
“He came around eleven.”
“Why?”
“Said he was updating the alarm software.”
The guard coughed violently.
“Then... then we got dizzy.”
Samantha looked toward the disabled cameras.
Nolan Price had access to Alexander’s routes.
His security systems.
His family’s locations.
And Victor Dane, the man who had attacked them earlier, had worked under him.
Alexander stood.
“Price is behind this.”
Samantha wasn’t convinced.
“Maybe.”
“He turned off the cameras.”
“Yes.”
“He knew Claire was here.”
“Yes.”
“He had access to my route tonight.”
“Yes.”
“So what are you waiting for?”
“People who plan this carefully don’t usually walk into the house themselves.”
Alexander stared.
“You think Nolan’s being used.”
“I think somebody wants you looking at Nolan.”
Police vehicles finally flooded the drive.
Paramedics followed.
Theo and Claire were placed on oxygen.
The guard was transported immediately.
An officer approached Alexander.
Before he could speak, Alexander’s phone rang.
His attorney.
He answered.
“Margaret?”
Samantha watched the color drain from his face.
“What do you mean, emergency meeting?”
A pause.
“On whose authority?”
Another pause.
Alexander’s expression became frighteningly calm.
“When?”
He ended the call.
Samantha stepped closer.
“What happened?”
“The board is meeting at eight tomorrow morning.”
“For what?”
“To remove me as CEO.”
“On what grounds?”
Alexander laughed once.
There was no humor in it.
“Psychological instability. Reckless behavior. Financial misconduct.”
“That’s convenient.”
“They have signed medical documentation saying I suffered cognitive impairment after my accident.”
Samantha frowned.
“From whom?”
Alexander looked directly at her.
“The documentation claims it was prepared by the trauma nurse who treated me that night.”
Her stomach dropped.
“No.”
“They attached a name.”
Samantha already knew.
May you like
His voice turned quiet.
“Yours.”
