Chapter 2 - What Pierre Buried
Thomas crossed the hallway before Madeleine could stop him.
“Thomas!”
He shoved open his father's study.
The smell hit him first.
Old books.
Leather.
Dust.
Pierre Delacourt had spent nearly every evening of Thomas's childhood inside this room.
Reading.
Working.
Making phone calls Thomas was never allowed to hear.
After Pierre died, Madeleine had kept everything almost exactly as he left it.
Thomas moved toward the desk.
“Where?”
Madeleine appeared behind him.
“Where what?”
“Where did Dad keep important things?”
“He had a safe.”
“I know about the safe.”
“It was emptied after he died.”
“Then he had another one.”
Madeleine didn't answer.
Thomas turned.
“Didn't he?”
She looked at the floor.
Thomas almost laughed.
“How many secrets did you two have?”
“That isn't fair.”
“Neither was twelve years of silence.”
He began pulling open drawers.
Receipts.
Pens.
Old business cards.
A watch strap.
Nothing.
Madeleine entered slowly.
“Pierre made me promise.”
“Dad is dead.”
“I know.”
“Émilie may not be.”
That stopped her.
Thomas held up the device.
“If this thing is transmitting, I'm finding out why.”
A sharp electronic chirp came from it.
Both of them froze.
The tiny red light changed.
Instead of blinking slowly, it pulsed rapidly.
Thomas pressed the black button.
“Don't!”
Too late.
The device vibrated.
A tiny display illuminated beneath what Thomas had thought was solid plastic.
Four numbers appeared.
719.
“What does that mean?”
Madeleine stared.
“I don't know.”
Thomas looked around the study.
Then he remembered.
His father's desk had four drawers on the right side.
The lowest drawer always stuck in July heat.
July.
Month seven.
Thomas crouched.
He pulled open the bottom drawer.
Nothing but old file folders.
Then he ran his hand underneath.
His fingers touched metal.
“Mom.”
A small key was taped beneath the drawer.
A paper label had been wrapped around it.
19.
20.
Madeleine whispered, “Pierre.”
Thomas ripped the key free.
“What does it open?”
“I don't know.”
But again, she answered too quickly.
Thomas stood.
“Try again.”
Madeleine looked toward a painting behind the desk.
Thomas followed her gaze.
It was a landscape Pierre had owned for thirty years.
A gray shoreline beneath a stormy sky.
Thomas took it off the wall.
There was no safe.
Only plaster.
Then he noticed something.
One screw was newer than the others.
He removed it.
Behind it was a narrow brass slot.
The key fit.
A section of wooden trim beside the bookcase released with a soft click.
Madeleine covered her mouth.
“I never knew that was there.”
Thomas pulled the panel open.
Inside was a black metal box.
He placed it on the desk.
The same initials were engraved on the top.
E.S.
His hands shook now.
He unlocked it.
Inside were three things.
A photograph.
A digital recorder.
And an envelope with Thomas's name on it.
He picked up the photograph first.
Émilie stood beside a lake.
She looked exhausted.
Her dark hair was shorter than Thomas remembered.
One hand rested against her stomach.
Thomas narrowed his eyes.
Then his blood ran cold.
She was pregnant.
Very pregnant.
On the back of the photograph Pierre had written a date.
Seven months after Émilie vanished.
Thomas gripped the desk.
“No.”
Madeleine whispered his name.
“No.”
“Thomas—”
“She was pregnant.”
Madeleine stared at the photograph.
“I didn't know.”
“Seven months.”
His voice cracked.
“She was seven months gone after she left me.”
He looked at his mother.
“Was it mine?”
“I don't know.”
Thomas grabbed the envelope.
Inside was one page in Pierre's handwriting.
Thomas,
If you're reading this because the red unit activated, then the protection agreement has failed.
Do not call anyone connected to Delacourt Holdings.
Do not contact Gabriel.
Find Locker 314 at Union Station.
The key is inside the recorder.
And Thomas—
Émilie did not leave because she stopped loving you.
Thomas read that last sentence twice.
Then a third time.
Madeleine stepped closer.
“What else?”
Thomas lowered the letter.
His heart was pounding.
“Dad specifically says not to contact Gabriel.”
Madeleine frowned.
“Your godfather?”
“Yes.”
Gabriel Renaud had been Pierre's closest friend for forty years.
He was also Thomas's attorney.
The man who had managed Pierre's estate.
The man who had comforted Thomas after Émilie's disappearance.
Thomas reached for the digital recorder.
Before he could touch it, headlights swept across the study window.
A vehicle stopped outside.
Madeleine looked toward the glass.
“We aren't expecting anyone.”
Thomas moved closer.
A black SUV sat at the curb.
May you like
Its lights went dark.
Then both front doors opened.
