Chapter 7
The wind picked up suddenly, rustling the high canopy of the oak trees and sending a flurry of dry leaves skittering across the flagstones. Elena froze, her hand hovering just inches from the back of the patio lounger.
"An entry alert?" Elena repeated, her voice dropping to a tense whisper. "The alarm system is hard-wired. Only the master code can disarm it from the inside."
"And the master code was known by exactly three people," Marcus said, his eyes locking onto Elena with a terrifying intensity. "Dad, you, and..." He trailed off, his jaw tightening as the realization hit them simultaneously.
"Julian," Elena breathed out, the name tasting like ash in her mouth. "He must have slipped in through the side garage door while we were arguing out here by the pool."
Sarah didn't waste a second. She reached behind her back, pulling a small silver key ring from her waistband and tossing it deftly to Marcus.
"The back staircase leads straight up to the guest wing above the garage," Sarah said quickly, keeping her voice low. "If Julian is heading for the cedar chest in the master suite, he has to cross the landing. We can cut him off before he reaches the ledger."
Marcus caught the keys out of the air with a sharp snap of his wrist, his eyes darting toward the sliding glass door. "Elena, stay out here. If he panics, I don't want you anywhere near him."
"That is my son up there tearing my house apart," Elena snapped, her maternal protective instinct overriding her fear as she marched past Marcus toward the open door. "I am going with you. Move."
They moved in single file through the cool, dimly lit interior of the ground floor, the ambient hum of the refrigerator the only sound breaking the oppressive quiet. The smell of floor wax and old cedar grew stronger as they climbed the carpeted stairs to the second-floor landing.
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The door to the master suite was slightly ajar, a sliver of warm afternoon light cutting across the dark hardwood floor of the hallway. From inside the room came the unmistakable sound of wood scraping against wood—someone dragging the heavy cedar chest away from the base of the bed.
Marcus raised a hand, signaling for Elena and Sarah to stop just short of the threshold. He took a deep breath, braced his shoulder against the doorframe, and shoved the heavy wooden door wide open with a resounding crash against the wall.
