Chapter 3 - SOMEONE INSIDE THE HOUSE
Ethan stared at the photograph until the numbers in the timestamp blurred.
Twenty minutes earlier.
He had not been in his bedroom.
He had been sitting beside his mother in the hospital.
"That is not from tonight," Brennan said.
Ethan shook his head.
"Look at the clock."
In the photograph, the digital clock beside his bed displayed 9:14.
The current time was 9:36.
Claire reached for the photograph.
Her hand trembled.
"It is not Ethan."
Brennan looked at her.
"What?"
Claire pointed toward the bed.
"The hair is wrong."
Ethan looked again.
The figure under the blanket was turned away from the camera.
Only the back of a head was visible.
At first glance it looked like a sleeping boy with brown hair.
But Claire was right.
The hair was too dark.
The shoulders were too broad.
Someone had put a person, or perhaps a mannequin, in Ethan's bed and photographed it from the doorway.
"Why?" Ethan asked.
Brennan turned the photo over.
Words had been written on the back.
YOUR HOUSE IS OPEN.
Claire inhaled sharply.
Ethan understood before anyone explained it.
Someone was inside their home.
Someone wanted them to know.
Brennan called two officers and ordered them to secure the Parker residence.
Claire grabbed his wrist before he could step away.
"The music box."
Brennan looked down.
"What music box?"
Claire hesitated.
Ethan saw the decision happen in her eyes.
Trust was becoming a luxury they could not afford.
"There may be evidence in the house," she said.
"Where?"
"I will tell you when we get there."
Brennan shook his head.
"You are not leaving this hospital tonight."
"Then send Ethan with someone I trust."
"Absolutely not."
Ethan crossed his arms.
"I am going."
Brennan gave him a tired look.
"You are twelve."
"Everyone keeps saying that like it means I did not hear my mother knocking from a coffin."
Brennan stopped.
Claire looked away, hiding the beginning of a smile.
The detective sighed.
"No one is going to that house until my team clears it."
The argument ended when a woman in a gray suit entered the room carrying a leather briefcase.
She was in her early forties, with dark hair pulled into a severe knot and rain on the shoulders of her coat.
"Claire Parker?"
Claire stared at her.
"Yes."
The woman handed Brennan a business card.
"Nora Vale."
"Attorney?"
"Her attorney, if she still wants me."
Claire sat up straighter.
"Nora."
It was the first name Claire had spoken with relief all night.
Nora moved to the bed.
"Your mother hired me before she died."
"I know."
"And you called me Wednesday morning."
Claire looked startled.
"I did?"
"You left a voicemail."
Nora opened her briefcase and removed her phone.
"You sounded frightened."
She played the message.
Claire's own voice filled the room.
"Nora, it is Claire."
A pause.
"I think Richard has been accessing trust records without my authorization."
Another pause.
"If I do not call you back by Friday, do not believe anything he tells you about me."
The message ended.
Ethan looked at his mother.
Claire closed her eyes.
"I forgot I sent that."
"You were right to send it," Nora said.
Brennan frowned.
"Why did you not report this before today?"
Nora looked at him coolly.
"Because on Friday morning Richard Parker called me and said Claire had suffered a fatal cardiac event."
"And you believed him?"
"No."
Nora leaned closer.
"I called Dr. Voss."
Ethan felt the room tighten.
"What did he say?" Claire asked.
"He confirmed the death."
"He lied."
"Yes."
Nora opened another folder.
"And then I received a certified copy of the death certificate."
Brennan looked at it.
"Same document."
"Same serial number."
Nora's gaze shifted to Claire.
"That is why I came to the funeral."
Claire frowned.
"You were there?"
"Outside."
Nora's jaw tightened.
"Chief Collins stopped me at the entrance."
Brennan stared at her.
"On what grounds?"
"He said the family had restricted attendance."
Claire looked toward the hallway.
"Richard knew you would ask questions."
Nora nodded.
"Apparently."
Ethan remembered the woman in the red coat.
"What about Mara Keene?"
Nora's expression changed.
"She made it inside?"
"You know her?"
"I invited her."
The room went silent.
Nora explained that Mara was an investigative reporter who had spent years documenting financial fraud involving private medical clinics and probate estates.
Claire had mentioned Dr. Voss during the Wednesday voicemail.
Nora searched the doctor's name and discovered that Mara had written about a clinic linked to him seven years earlier.
Nora contacted Mara Friday night.
She asked her to attend the funeral quietly.
"I did not know Claire was alive," Nora said.
"I thought Richard had done something that caused her death."
Claire looked at Ethan.
"Instead, he needed everyone to witness a death that never happened."
"Why use a real coffin?" Ethan asked.
Nora looked toward Brennan.
"Because a closed coffin creates certainty."
Brennan nodded reluctantly.
"People see flowers, a death certificate, a funeral director, and a grieving husband."
"And they stop asking whether the body was ever legally identified," Nora added.
Claire pressed one hand to her forehead.
"He planned all of it."
A nurse entered and whispered something to Brennan.
His expression tightened.
"Excuse me."
He stepped into the hallway.
Nora waited until he was gone.
Then she leaned toward Claire.
"Do you trust him?"
Claire looked at Ethan.
"I do not know."
Nora lowered her voice.
"Do not tell anyone about the safe deposit box yet."
Ethan stared at her.
"How do you know about that?"
Nora blinked.
Claire sat upright.
"I never told you about it."
For the first time since arriving, Nora looked genuinely surprised.
"Your mother did."
Claire went still.
"My mother?"
"Two weeks before she died."
Nora reached into her briefcase and removed a sealed envelope.
"She instructed me to give this to you if anyone ever tried to take control of the trust after her death."
Claire took it carefully.
The envelope was addressed in Evelyn Parker's handwriting.
Claire broke the seal.
Inside was a note and a small photograph of the blue porcelain music box.
The note contained only three lines.
Claire read them aloud.
"If they come for the company, do not fight them in the boardroom."
"Open Box 314."
"And do not trust the man who signs Daniel Collins's checks."
Ethan looked at Brennan's empty chair.
"Chief Collins?"
Nora's face had gone pale.
"Your mother suspected him two years ago."
Before anyone could speak, Brennan returned.
"The house is clear."
Claire folded the note immediately.
"Did they find anyone?"
"No."
"Then who took the photograph?"
"We do not know."
Brennan placed his phone on the table.
"But there is another problem."
He showed them a live feed from an officer's body camera.
The camera was inside Claire's dressing room.
The shelf where the blue music box had always stood was empty.
Claire stared at the screen.
"It is gone."
Brennan looked at her.
"What was supposed to be there?"
Claire did not answer.
Ethan looked at the live video again.
Something on the carpet caught his eye.
"Zoom in."
Brennan did.
A small piece of blue porcelain lay beneath the shelf.
It was shaped like a bird's wing.
The music box had not simply been taken.
Someone had broken it open.
Nora stood.
"We need to leave."
Brennan frowned.
"Leave where?"
Nora looked at Claire.
"Somewhere Chief Collins cannot find us."
Brennan's voice hardened.
"I am not Chief Collins."
"No," Nora said.
"But somebody told him where this room was."
Brennan stared at her.
Nora pointed to the envelope on the floor.
"And somebody walked through a secured hospital corridor to deliver that photograph."
Then Ethan's temporary phone vibrated.
A message had arrived from an unknown number.
It contained a picture of the missing music box.
The blue bird had been snapped off.
Beside it lay a brass key.
Nora copied the threatening message before Ethan's phone could be taken as evidence.
She sent the image to three separate encrypted accounts and wrote the time on paper.
Claire watched every movement.
"Why three copies?"
Nora did not look up.
"Because one copy can disappear."
Mara nodded.
"Two can become an argument."
"Three becomes inconvenient."
Ethan thought about the three knocks again.
The number seemed to follow them everywhere.
Three taps had been love.
Now three copies meant survival.
Claire looked toward the hospital door and lowered her voice.
"From now on, nobody carries the only copy of anything."
It was the first rule they created for themselves.
It would save them more than once.
May you like
Under the photograph were five words.
YOU SHOULD HAVE STAYED QUIET.
