CHAPTER 3 — CELESTE’S VOICE
The steel door had no handle on our side.
Adrian’s officers pushed against it, but it did not move.
“Can you identify the speaker?” Adrian asked.
I could.
Celeste Holloway had hosted charity galas, funded political campaigns, and spent twenty years presenting herself as the refined heart of the Holloway family.
She had also raised Grant.
“Celeste,” I said.
A quiet laugh came through the door.
“You always were clever.”
Julian tried to sit up.
Adrian held him still.
“Don’t move.”
Celeste continued.
“I’m sorry about Director Mercer. He was loyal for longer than I expected.”
“You’re inside the museum.”
“Am I?”
“All exits are sealed.”
“Then perhaps you locked the wrong people in.”
Adrian removed a compact tool from his jacket and began working on the control panel beside the door.
“What do you want?” I asked.
“I want the same thing your mother wanted.”
“My mother is dead.”
There was a pause.
“Is that what Elias told you?”
The words struck harder than Grant’s hand.
Julian made a weak sound.
I turned toward him.
“What did she mean?”
He closed his eyes.
Celeste answered for him.
“Your father built his empire on secrets, Mara. Some belonged to other families. The most dangerous belonged to his own.”
“You attacked Julian to tell me a story?”
“No. Julian was attacked because he planned to give you something.”
The metal panel sparked beneath Adrian’s tools.
He cursed under his breath.
“What?” I demanded.
“A ledger.”
Julian’s hand moved toward his jacket.
Adrian searched the inner pocket and pulled out a small brass key.
Celeste laughed again.
“Now you have it.”
“What does it open?”
“The one place in this museum your father never wanted you to enter.”
The connection went silent.
Adrian struck the panel one final time.
The steel door unlocked.
We emerged into a narrow storage room filled with empty display cases.
There was no sign of Celeste.
Police officers met us in the adjoining hall. Paramedics rushed Julian toward the central gallery.
I found Grant seated beneath guard near the auction stage.
His arrogance had returned, but it looked forced now.
I held up the brass key.
His eyes flicked toward it.
Only for a second.
But I saw recognition.
“You know what this opens,” I said.
“I’ve never seen it.”
“You looked directly at it.”
“I looked at your hand.”
I stepped closer.
“Your mother is inside the building.”
Grant’s expression sharpened.
“My mother is in Washington.”
“She just spoke to me.”
“That’s not possible.”
For the first time, his fear looked genuine.
Before I could question him further, every light in the eastern half of the museum went out.
The central gallery remained illuminated.
The restoration wing disappeared into darkness.
Emergency alarms began flashing.
Adrian looked at his tablet.
“We have a second breach.”
“Where?”
He enlarged the floor plan.
A security door beneath the museum had opened.
The door required two family authorizations.
Mine.
And my father’s.
Yet neither of us had entered the code.
Then a new message appeared on my phone.
It came from my father’s private number.
Do not open your mother’s vault.
May you like
A second message followed.
Whatever Celeste told you, I can explain.
