Chapter 7 - Room Seventeen
We did not chase Victor directly.
That would have warned him.
Instead Marcus coordinated three vehicles and a helicopter owned by a company nobody connected publicly to Blackwell.
I called Detective Mills.
He did not enjoy hearing from me.
“Please tell me you’re not about to commit a felony.”
“I found a possible kidnapping.”
That changed his tone.
“Who?”
“Elaine Mercer.”
“Where?”
“Likely Rockford.”
“What evidence?”
I sent him the security clip.
“You need local police.”
“They may be compromised.”
“Based on what?”
“Twenty-three years of payments tied to law enforcement contacts.”
Silence.
“You understand how serious that accusation is?”
“Yes.”
“You have names?”
“Some.”
“Send them.”
I did.
Mills swore.
“Two of these men are still active.”
“That’s why I called you.”
He promised to contact federal authorities through someone he trusted.
For once, I hoped bureaucracy moved quickly.
The Blackwell Recovery Center sat six miles outside Rockford behind dead trees and chain-link fencing.
Officially, it had been abandoned for nine years.
Unofficially, it had active security.
Victor’s SUV entered through the rear gate.
Martin’s car was already inside.
We stopped half a mile away.
Marcus handed me a vest.
“You stay in the vehicle.”
I looked at him.
“You hired me to keep you alive.”
“I didn’t hire you to give ridiculous instructions.”
“There could be armed men.”
“There usually are.”
He sighed.
“This is why Evelyn called you arrogant.”
I froze.
Marcus realized what he said.
Then I laughed.
The first real laugh in days.
“She told you that?”
“Frequently.”
“Good.”
I put on the vest.
We entered through the eastern fence.
No dramatic gunfire.
No alarms.
Marcus’s team disabled two exterior cameras.
We moved through a service entrance.
The building smelled abandoned.
But it wasn’t.
Fresh footprints.
New locks.
Fiber-optic cabling.
Someone had spent money keeping this place invisible.
We found the server room first.
Rows of machines.
Accounting infrastructure.
Encrypted backups.
Enough computing equipment to run a medium-sized corporation.
Marcus photographed everything.
Then voices echoed from the floor above.
We moved toward the staircase.
Room numbers appeared along the hall.
Twelve.
Thirteen.
Fourteen.
Fifteen.
Sixteen.
Seventeen.
The door was locked.
Marcus examined it.
“Reinforced.”
We heard something inside.
A chair scraping.
A woman.
Elaine.
Marcus’s men prepared to breach.
Then another voice came through the door.
Victor.
“You were warned.”
Elaine answered.
“I did everything you asked.”
“No.”
“You said June would be protected.”
“You were told to keep her away from Adrian.”
“I tried.”
“She works in his house.”
“I couldn’t control placement.”
“You controlled the payroll.”
My jaw tightened.
Elaine had altered the payments.
But perhaps not for the reason we thought.
Victor continued.
“You should have transferred her.”
“She needed the money.”
Victor laughed.
“She wasn’t getting the money.”
“I know.”
“Then why keep her there?”
Elaine’s voice shook.
“Because Evelyn told me Adrian would protect her if he ever saw the truth.”
My chest tightened.
Evelyn had planned farther ahead than I imagined.
Victor said, “Evelyn is dead.”
Silence.
Then Elaine answered.
“That doesn’t mean she lost.”
Marcus looked at me.
Victor’s voice became colder.
“Where are the photographs?”
“I don’t have them.”
“Samuel gave them to you.”
“No.”
“He said he did.”
“He lied.”
A second man spoke.
Martin.
“Victor, this is getting us nowhere.”
So Martin was there.
Victor replied, “Stay out of it.”
“Elaine knows nothing.”
“You’ve defended her for twenty years.”
“And you’ve been hunting ghosts for twenty years.”
There was tension between them.
Important tension.
Perhaps they were not partners.
Perhaps each was hiding something from the other.
Victor said, “Adrian found the payroll discrepancy.”
Martin went quiet.
“How?”
“June.”
“And you know this because?”
“I have eyes inside the house.”
Marcus’s expression hardened.
We still had a leak.
Martin said, “Then this ends now.”
“How?”
“We give Adrian what he expects.”
“What’s that?”
“You.”
Victor laughed softly.
“You think he’ll believe you acted alone?”
“He wants someone to blame.”
“And you?”
“I can protect the rest.”
Rest.
What rest?
Elaine spoke.
“You’re both fools.”
A slap.
I moved.
Marcus grabbed my arm.
“Wait.”
I looked at him.
He pointed toward the hallway camera.
Still active.
Someone else might be watching remotely.
If we entered now, we exposed our presence before learning who.
Marcus connected a small device to the local network.
Thirty seconds later he whispered, “Camera feed routes to an external IP.”
“Where?”
He checked.
“Chicago.”
“Specific?”
His face changed.
“Your house.”
My blood froze.
Someone inside my mansion was watching Room Seventeen live.
June and her children were there.
I pulled out my phone and called the estate security command center.
No answer.
Again.
Nothing.
Marcus called one of the guards stationed inside.
No answer.
The dread was instant.
I called June.
One ring.
Two.
Three.
She answered.
“Adrian?”
I had never been so relieved to hear someone’s voice.
“Where are you?”
“The library.”
“Kids?”
“With Rosa.”
“Listen carefully.”
“What?”
“Lock the library door.”
“Why?”
“Do it.”
I heard movement.
Then the lock.
“What’s happening?”
“Someone inside the house may be compromised.”
Silence.
“Who?”
“I don’t know.”
A floorboard creaked through her phone.
June stopped breathing.
“Did you hear that?”
“Yes.”
Someone tried the library handle.
Once.
Twice.
June whispered, “Adrian.”
“Get behind the desk.”
Another sound.
Metal against the lock.
Someone was attempting to open it.
“Is there another exit?”
“The terrace.”
“Go.”
She moved.
I heard glass doors open.
Then June gasped.
“What?”
“There’s someone outside.”
My chest tightened.
“Who?”
She didn’t answer.
“June?”
Then a familiar voice came through the phone.
Rosa.
“Don’t scream.”
I froze.
Our cook.
Rosa had worked for me for eleven years.
June whispered, “Where are the children?”
Rosa answered.
“Safe.”
“Where?”
“Not here.”
My vision narrowed.
I had trusted Rosa inside my home.
She cooked for Evelyn.
She attended the funeral.
She baked my birthday cake every year.
June’s voice hardened.
“Give me my children.”
Rosa said something strange.
“I’m trying to keep them alive.”
Then the library door opened from the hall.
Someone else had entered.
June gasped.
The phone fell.
I heard a man’s voice.
“Take her too.”
The line went dead.
I looked at Marcus.
“We’re leaving.”
“What about Elaine?”
I turned toward Room Seventeen.
Inside sat Victor.
Martin.
Elaine.
Twenty-three years of secrets.
But back home were June’s children.
No choice.
I raised my weapon.
“Breach it.”
The door came apart in seconds.
Victor turned.
For the first time in fourteen years, I saw fear on his face.
Martin stepped back.
Elaine was tied to a chair.
Victor said my name.
“Adrian.”
I pointed the weapon at him.
“You have exactly ten seconds to tell me who is inside my house.”
Victor stared at me.
Then, incredibly, he smiled.
“You still don’t understand.”
“Nine.”
Martin shouted, “Victor.”
“Eight.”
Victor’s smile widened.
“The person inside your house isn’t working for me.”
“Seven.”
“Adrian.”
“Six.”
“He’s working for your father.”
I stopped.
May you like
Victor looked almost sorry for me.
“And Thomas Blackwell is very much alive.”
