Chapter 5 - THE BLUE COAT
“What do you mean she’s gone?!”
Luca sprinted toward the doors, nearly knocking over a silver tray of champagne glasses. Caroline was right behind him, a frantic scream building in her throat.
“I just turned around to get her a glass of water from the hall table,” Hannah cried, pointing down the massive, dimly lit corridor. “I was gone for ten seconds! When I looked back, she wasn't on the bench.”
“Isabella!” Luca shouted, his voice echoing off the vaulted ceilings.
“Isabella!” Caroline screamed, running toward the grand staircase.
I didn't run with them.
I knew this house better than anyone. I cleaned the corners they never looked in. I knew the hiding spots.
When a child is terrified, they don't run upstairs into open hallways. They run to small, dark places where they feel secure.
I turned and sprinted toward the East Wing. It was the oldest part of the estate, mostly used for storage and seasonal coats. The lights were always kept off to save electricity.
I pushed through the heavy oak doors, the silence immediately swallowing me.
“Isabella?” I whispered, not wanting to scare her if someone else was nearby.
No answer.
I walked slowly down the hall, checking beneath the velvet window drapes and behind the large marble busts.
Then, I saw it.
Poking out from the bottom of the heavy cedar door of the winter coat closet.
A piece of blue fabric.
It was the hem of the coat Isabella had been wearing when she arrived.
I hurried over and gently turned the brass handle. I opened the door just a crack.
It was pitch black inside, smelling of mothballs and expensive wool.
“Isabella?” I whispered.
I heard a tiny, suppressed whimper.
I opened the door fully and knelt. She was curled into a tight ball beneath a row of heavy winter coats, her knees pulled to her chest, her hands covering her ears.
“Hey,” I said softly. “It’s Claire.”
She slowly lowered her hands. Even in the dim light from the hallway, I could see she was shaking so violently her teeth were chattering.
“Did you see him?” she whispered, her voice barely audible.
A chill ran down my spine. “See who, sweetheart?”
“The man with the red eyes.”
My blood ran cold. The drawing.
“Isabella, nobody is here but me. You’re safe.”
I reached out to pull her into my arms, but she shrank back against the cedar wall.
“He was in the hallway,” she cried softly. “When Miss Hannah turned around. He grabbed my arm. He said if Mommy didn't leave right now, he was going to make sure Daddy went away forever.”
I felt sick. Someone was in the house. Tonight.
“Who was it?” I asked gently. “Did you recognize him?”
She shook her head. “He smelled like cigars. And he was holding something.”
“What was he holding?”
Isabella reached into the pocket of her dress. Her small hand was trembling as she pulled out an object.
She held it out to me.
It was a heavy, silver pocket watch.
The chain was broken.
I recognized it instantly. I polished it every Thursday on the desk in the master study.
It belonged to Richard Vance. Eleanor’s father.
“He dropped it when I pulled away and ran,” Isabella whispered.
I took the watch. The metal was still warm.
“We have to get this to your dad,” I said, standing up and holding my hand out to her.
She took it, and I pulled her out of the closet.
But as we turned to walk back down the East Wing hallway, a tall shadow stepped out from behind the velvet curtains.
A man in a perfectly tailored tuxedo blocked our path. The smell of expensive cigars immediately filled the air.
May you like
Richard Vance smiled.
“Well,” he said smoothly, stepping forward. “It seems the little maid found something that belongs to me.”
