Chapter 3 - The Locked Drawer
The grandfather clock in the hallway chimed two A.M.
The mansion was completely silent, swallowed by the darkness of the Winnetka night.
I slipped out of my private quarters, wearing dark clothes and silent socks.
Richard was waiting in his room, sitting perfectly still in the dark.
“The security cameras in the west wing are on a looped feed for maintenance between 2:00 and 2:15 A.M.,” he whispered.
“How do you know that?” I asked.
“I paid the security firm to install them. I know their protocols.”
He handed me a small, metallic key.
“Bottom right drawer of Nathan’s desk. Bring me the red ledger.”
I nodded, gripping the cold key in my sweaty palm.
The hallway felt miles long as I crept toward the west wing.
Every creak of the floorboards sounded like a gunshot in the silent house.
I reached Nathan’s office and carefully turned the brass handle.
It was unlocked.
I slipped inside, closing the door with a soft click, and pulled out a small penlight.
The room smelled of expensive leather and stale scotch.
I moved to the massive oak desk and knelt by the bottom right drawer.
The key slid into the lock smoothly.
Click.
I pulled the drawer open and shone the light inside.
There it was. A thick, red leather-bound ledger.
I grabbed it, my heart pounding, and started to close the drawer.
Suddenly, a floorboard groaned right outside the office door.
I froze, killing the penlight instantly.
“Nathan?” Claire’s groggy voice drifted through the wood.
I held my breath, pressing my back against the side of the desk.
The doorknob rattled.
“Nathan, are you in there?”
She pushed the door open.
A slice of yellow light from the hallway spilled into the dark office.
I crouched lower, praying the desk hid my silhouette.
Claire stepped into the room, pausing for a moment.
She let out a frustrated sigh, muttered something under her breath, and pulled the door shut.
I stayed frozen for two full minutes before I dared to exhale.
Clutching the ledger to my chest, I slipped out of the office and hurried back to the east wing.
When I locked Richard’s door behind me, my knees nearly buckled.
I tossed the ledger onto his lap.
“Got it,” I gasped.
Richard opened the book, his eyes scanning the pages in the dim light.
May you like
A cold, hard smile spread across his face.
“He’s not just taking the company, Emily. He’s liquidating it.”
