Chapter 3: Footsteps in the Empty Corridor
Back at the residence, the flashing red and blue cruiser lights cast erratic geometric patterns across the high ceilings of the grand foyer. Rohesen paced the length of the Persian rug, his black tuxedo jacket discarded on a velvet armchair, his white shirt collar unbuttoned. He dragged both hands through his short brown hair, his chest heaving as the adrenaline slowly ebbed, leaving behind a cold, nauseating realization.
Clara stood by the heavy oak front door, her blue maid uniform looking somehow smaller, the white apron stained with spilled tea from the earlier panic. She kept her eyes glued to the floorboards, refusing to meet Rohesen’s erratic gaze.
"You saved my life tonight, Clara," Rohesen said, his voice dropping into a harsh rasp. "If you hadn't gone back in for those silver spoons... God, I don't even want to think about what would have happened if I'd shifted back and pressed my leg against that wooden leg."
"I was just doing my job, sir," Clara whispered, her voice tight and constrained. "The house rules state all dining areas must be cleared by nine. I saw... I saw the blue light reflecting off the polish. It didn't look right. People think domestic staff don't see things, Mr. Vance. We see everything. We see the closed doors, the late-night phone calls, the documents pushed under study doors."
Rohesen stopped pacing. His eyes narrowed slightly as he turned to face her. "What documents, Clara? What are you talking about?"
Clara swallowed hard, hugging herself against a sudden chill that seemed to seep through the heavy mahogany doors. "Nothing, sir. Just... tension. Mrs. Vance hasn't been happy in this house for a long time. Everyone on the staff knew she kept a locked drawer in her vanity. We weren't even allowed to dust inside that specific cabinet."
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"A locked drawer," Rohesen muttered, the gears in his mind turning rapidly. He walked past her toward the grand staircase, his leather shoes clicking sharply on the marble steps. "Wait here, Clara. The police secured the perimeter, but they haven't searched the master suite yet. Let's see what my loving wife has been hiding from the world."
Clara watched him ascend into the shadows, her expression shifting subtly from distressed servant to something much more calculated, her fingers twitching against the fabric of her apron as she listened to his footsteps fade down the long, empty corridor above.
