Chapter 2 - The Piano Behind the Locked Doors
Rachel stared at him.
“Your uncle?”
“Victor Vale.”
“Is he alive?”
“Yes.”
“Does he know you have this?”
“No.”
“Then maybe we should keep it that way.”
Dominic looked at her differently.
Rachel shrugged.
“I clean houses, Dominic. I’m not stupid.”
It was the first time she'd used his first name.
Marcus entered moments later.
Dominic played the recording again.
Marcus’s face changed immediately.
“That’s Victor.”
“I know.”
Marcus looked at Rachel.
“She heard this?”
“She found something I missed.”
“I didn't find anything.”
Rachel pointed at the recorder.
“The background.”
Dominic turned.
“What background?”
“Play it again.”
Marcus obeyed.
Rachel closed her eyes.
Sofia’s voice.
The unidentified argument.
Then—
Three faint piano notes.
Rachel opened her eyes.
“Someone else was in this room.”
Dominic frowned.
“How do you know?”
“Because Sofia wasn't sitting at the piano.”
Rachel pointed toward the recorder.
“She sounds farther away. But those keys are close to the microphone.”
Marcus stepped toward the piano.
“So somebody was listening.”
“Or warning her,” Rachel said.
Dominic’s expression hardened.
“Who had access to this room?”
“My family. Senior staff.”
“Eight years ago?”
“Yes.”
Rachel hesitated.
“Do any still work here?”
“One.”
“Who?”
Marcus answered.
“Eleanor Price.”
Rachel knew Eleanor.
The mansion’s sixty-two-year-old house manager.
The woman who had interviewed Rachel.
An hour later, Eleanor entered Dominic’s study.
“You wanted me?”
Dominic placed the recorder on his desk.
He played it.
Eleanor turned pale.
Dominic watched her.
“You recognize it.”
“Yes.”
“Were you in the music room?”
Eleanor looked at Rachel, then Marcus.
Finally she sat.
“I promised Sofia.”
“Promised her what?”
“To protect you.”
Dominic’s voice dropped.
“From Victor?”
Eleanor nodded.
“Sofia discovered Victor was moving money through one of your father's companies.”
Marcus leaned forward.
“How much?”
“Millions.”
Dominic remained frighteningly calm.
“And Sofia confronted him?”
“She intended to tell your father.”
“What happened?”
“I don't know.”
Dominic stared at her.
Eleanor’s voice broke slightly.
“I swear.”
Rachel watched the older woman carefully.
“But you know more.”
Eleanor looked at her.
Rachel continued.
“You're terrified of something that happened eight years ago.”
Dominic’s eyes shifted toward Eleanor.
“Rachel.”
“What?”
“This isn't housekeeping.”
“Neither was listening to an eight-year-old recording.”
Marcus muttered, “She has a point.”
Dominic ignored him.
Eleanor finally whispered,
“Sofia left something.”
Dominic stood.
“What?”
“A key.”
“Where?”
Eleanor looked toward the west wing.
“Inside the piano.”
They returned immediately.
Eleanor removed a narrow wooden panel beneath the keyboard.
A small brass key dropped into her palm.
Attached was a paper tag.
Three handwritten characters appeared on it.
B-17.
Marcus frowned.
“Bank box?”
Dominic shook his head.
“Sofia hated banks.”
Rachel studied the tag.
“Could B mean basement?”
Everyone looked at her.
“What?”
Dominic’s mansion had an enormous wine cellar beneath the east wing.
Along one wall were private storage compartments built decades earlier.
B-11.
B-12.
B-13.
They reached B-17.
Dominic inserted the key.
Inside sat a folder.
And a photograph.
Dominic lifted it.
Sofia stood beside another young woman.
Rachel leaned closer.
The second woman wore a housekeeping uniform.
Dominic turned the photograph over.
Sofia’s handwriting covered the back.
If anything happens to me, find Anna Bennett. She knows everything.
Rachel’s face emptied.
Marcus noticed first.
“Rachel?”
She stared at the name.
Dominic slowly turned toward her.
“Bennett.”
Rachel took the photograph with shaking fingers.
May you like
“My mother's name was Anna.”
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