Chapter 2 - The Man Behind the Wall
There are moments in life when the world doesn't become louder.
It becomes quieter.
That was what happened to me when I heard my uncle's name.
Elias Duca.
Dead.
That was the story I'd been told.
His car had gone over a bridge outside Worcester when I was twenty-five. No body had ever been recovered, but my father had identified the vehicle, the insurance company had paid the claim, and the family had held a private funeral.
For fourteen years, I'd believed my uncle was dead.
Now his voice was behind a wooden door in a secret passage inside my own house.
I looked at Grace.
She looked as confused as I felt.
Mia simply whispered, "Is he a ghost?"
"No."
The answer came from behind the door.
Elias laughed softly.
"Not quite."
I put my hand on the lock.
"How long have you been in there?"
"A long time."
"How long?"
"Long enough to stop counting."
I looked at the scratches on the door.
"Why didn't you call the police?"
"Because the people who put me here were standing beside the police."
The words landed heavily.
I stepped back.
My family had money.
Influence.
Connections.
None of that explained a hidden prison in my library.
"What happened to you?"
Silence.
Then Elias said, "Your father found out I was keeping records."
"What records?"
"The ones he didn't want you to see."
I looked at Grace.
Her face had gone white.
"What does Grace have to do with this?"
Elias didn't answer.
I turned toward the mother.
"How do you know about this room?"
Grace shook her head.
"I don't."
"Did you ever hear these knocks?"
She hesitated.
"Yes."
"Then why did you tell Mia she imagined them?"
Grace looked ashamed.
"Because I knew if someone found out we'd heard anything, we'd lose the job."
That sentence opened another door.
"Who told you that?"
"My former supervisor."
"Who?"
"Mr. Vale."
I knew the name.
Arthur Vale.
My father's old attorney.
He had stayed in the business after my father's death, then disappeared from my circle when I dismissed him two years ago.
"Why would he care if you heard knocking?"
Grace's eyes filled with tears.
"Because he told me never to go near the library after midnight."
I turned toward the door.
"Elias."
"Yes?"
"Do you know Arthur Vale?"
A pause.
"I know exactly who he is."
"Did he put you here?"
Another pause.
"No."
"But he knew about this."
"Yes."
My mind raced.
I unlocked the door.
The hinges groaned.
An old man stepped into the passage.
He was thinner than I expected.
Much thinner.
His gray hair fell over his forehead, and his beard was uneven. His shirt hung from his shoulders. There was a bruise near his temple that looked old.
But the eyes were unmistakable.
My uncle.
Same dark eyes as my father's.
Same narrow nose.
Same crooked left eyebrow.
Elias looked at me for a long moment.
Then he said, "You got your mother's eyes."
I didn't know what to say.
Instead I stepped forward.
He raised both hands.
"No."
"Why?"
"Because if you touch me, I might believe this is real."
The sentence broke something in me.
I moved anyway.
I wrapped my arms around him.
For a few seconds, neither of us spoke.
Then Elias whispered, "I'm sorry."
I released him.
"For what?"
"For leaving you with him."
My stomach tightened.
"My father?"
Elias nodded.
"Your father was not the man you thought he was."
I wanted to be angry.
Instead, I felt exhausted.
"Everyone says the dead are allowed to have secrets."
Elias gave a bitter smile.
"Your father wasn't supposed to take his secrets with him."
We moved into the study.
Grace brought tea.
Mia refused to leave.
She sat on the rug with Lily sleeping against her shoulder.
Elias stared at the baby.
"That's Grace's?"
"Yes."
"She has your sister's expression."
Grace looked startled.
"You knew my family?"
Elias looked at her.
"I knew your mother."
Grace nearly dropped the cup.
"My mother died when I was eleven."
"I know."
"How?"
"Because I sent the flowers."
Grace stared at him.
"You knew her?"
Elias nodded.
"She worked for your father."
"My father?"
"Your father wasn't a Harper?"
"No."
Elias sighed.
"This gets complicated."
I leaned against my desk.
"Good. Start talking."
He looked at me.
"Twenty-two years ago, your father established a private emergency fund for employees who were being threatened by outside lenders."
I frowned.
"I've never heard of it."
"Of course not."
"Why?"
"Because the fund was used for something else."
"What?"
Elias looked at Grace.
"Protection."
Grace went very still.
Elias continued.
"Back then, certain people were using the Duca family's businesses to move money through shell companies. Your father discovered it and wanted out."
"Who?"
"Arthur Vale was one of the architects."
I stared at him.
That didn't make sense.
Vale had been the family attorney for thirty years.
"He worked for my father."
"Exactly."
"Why would my father let him—"
"Because Vale knew where every body was buried."
The room went quiet.
Mia slowly looked up.
Elias noticed.
He lowered his voice.
"Not literal bodies."
Mia nodded.
Then she asked, "Why did they put you behind the wall?"
Elias looked directly at her.
"Because little girls notice things grown men don't."
She tilted her head.
"I don't understand."
"Neither did I at first."
He looked at me.
"Your father discovered that Vale was planning to use a property transaction to take control of the family company. I found proof."
"And?"
"I was preparing to take it to federal investigators."
He touched the scar above his eyebrow.
"I never made it."
"What happened?"
"They intercepted me."
"Who?"
"Vale."
My fists tightened.
"Then he put you here?"
"Not alone."
"Who helped him?"
Elias lowered his eyes.
"Your father's closest security adviser."
I felt a strange chill.
There had been only one person who could have accessed every part of the house without triggering the alarm.
Daniel Cross.
My family's head of security.
A man who had worked for us before I was born.
I pulled out my phone.
I called the security station.
No answer.
I called again.
Still nothing.
Elias noticed my expression.
"He is not there."
"How do you know?"
"I've been listening."
"For fourteen years?"
"For fourteen years."
Mia slowly stood.
"Mr. Duca?"
"What?"
"That wall."
She pointed.
"The knocking wasn't always three."
Elias looked at her.
"What do you mean?"
"Sometimes it's four."
Elias's face changed.
"What?"
Mia approached him carefully.
"Sometimes three knocks means he wants someone to come."
Elias stared.
"And four?"
She whispered, "It means he's warning us."
I looked at my uncle.
"Who is he?"
Elias didn't answer.
Mia looked at the wall.
Then she said something so quietly that we almost missed it.
"There's another room."
I crouched.
"What?"
"Behind the big cabinet."
"How do you know?"
"Because once Mama dropped something."
Grace stood.
"Mia."
But the little girl kept speaking.
"I saw a crack. There was light behind it."
I looked at Grace.
She slowly nodded.
"It was years ago."
"Why didn't you tell me?"
She looked terrified.
"Because Arthur Vale told me that if I ever discussed anything I saw in this house, my children would be taken away."
My blood ran cold.
I stood.
"How long has he been threatening you?"
"Years."
"And you never told anyone?"
"Who would believe me?"
I couldn't answer.
Because I knew exactly why.
I'd been the wealthy man at the top of the house.
I'd assumed silence meant peace.
I'd mistaken obedience for loyalty.
I walked toward the cabinet.
The cabinet was three hundred pounds of walnut.
I pushed.
It didn't move.
Elias stepped closer.
"Wait."
He pointed toward a brass lion's head near the fireplace.
"Press the eye."
I did.
A latch clicked.
The cabinet rolled sideways.
Behind it was another opening.
Inside, hidden among pipes and dust, was a narrow metal box.
I opened it.
There was a stack of envelopes.
One had my name.
Leo Duca.
My handwriting wasn't on it.
My father's was.
I opened it.
Son,
If Elias ever returns, don't trust the man who protects the house.
I read it twice.
Then a second sentence made my breath stop.
Do not let Arthur Vale reach the children.
Behind me, Grace made a broken sound.
Elias closed his eyes.
May you like
And from somewhere outside the library came the soft mechanical click of a door unlocking.
Someone else had entered the house.
