Chapter 4 - THE CHILD’S DRAWING
I stepped in front of Ethan.
Dominic stepped into the moonlight.
He was wearing a tailored black suit, his tie perfectly straight.
He looked entirely too calm for a man whose treason had just been discovered.
“How did you get in here?” I demanded, keeping my voice steady.
“It’s my family’s house,” Dominic said, smiling slightly. “I have keys to everything.”
He looked at Ethan.
“Hey, kiddo. Time to go with Uncle Dom.”
Ethan whimpered and grabbed the fabric of my skirt.
“He’s not going anywhere with you,” I said.
Dominic sighed.
He reached into his jacket.
I braced myself, expecting a weapon.
Instead, he pulled out a folded piece of paper.
He tossed it onto the desk.
“Show him what you drew, Ethan.”
I glanced at the paper.
It was one of Ethan’s coloring pages.
A crude drawing in blue and red crayon.
I picked it up.
It showed three stick figures.
A tall man in black.
A small boy.
And a woman with yellow hair lying on the ground with red x's for eyes.
Underneath, in shaky child’s handwriting, it said: UNCLE DOM HURT MOMMY.
My blood ran cold.
“He saw me,” Dominic said, his voice devoid of emotion. “Three years ago. He was supposed to be asleep. But he wandered into the garage.”
I looked at Ethan.
He was covering his ears, his eyes squeezed shut.
“You killed her,” I whispered.
“Elena was going to the police,” Dominic said. “She found out I was skimming from the union contracts. She was going to ruin me.”
He took a step closer.
“And now, this little brat has finally started remembering. He’s been leaving these drawings in my briefcase when I visit. Haven't you, Ethan?”
That was why Ethan had been hiding.
That was why he put the note in my hand.
It wasn't just Vivienne he was afraid of.
He knew Dominic was here tonight.
“Vivienne was supposed to bring him upstairs to me,” Dominic said, checking his cufflinks. “But you ruined that, Claire. You just couldn't be a quiet little babysitter.”
He lunged forward.
I didn’t think.
I grabbed the heavy gold pocket watch from the desk and threw it as hard as I could.
It struck Dominic squarely in the forehead.
He stumbled back with a curse.
I scooped Ethan into my arms, unlocked the side door that connected to the library, and ran.
We burst into the dark library.
I locked the door behind us.
Footsteps pounded against the wood on the other side.
Then, a heavy thud as Dominic threw his weight against the frame.
“You can’t hide, Claire!” he shouted through the wood.
I looked desperately around the dark room.
And then I saw it.
Lying draped over one of the leather reading chairs.
A heavy, beige trench coat.
May you like
I recognized the smell immediately.
It was the cheap cologne worn by the driver of the agency that had hired me.
