Chapter 7 - The Red Dot

Vincent pulled Miriam to the floor. The shot blew apart the lamp behind her, showering the room with glass. Grace grabbed the blue-bird photograph and crawled toward the back door.

“Stay down,” Vincent ordered.

“You don't get to order me around.”

“Then consider it a desperate request.”

Marco's team arrived from the street. The shooter fled across the roofs, leaving behind a rifle with its serial number filed off. By the time police reached the cottage, the car with the woman was gone.

Sister Miriam refused an ambulance until Grace promised to listen. “There are people who get paid to bury the truth. Some wear badges. Some wear diamonds. Some dress like grieving mothers.”

Grace went cold. “You think that wasn't Clara?”

“I think whoever it was wanted you to follow.”

The nun opened a loose floorboard beneath her kitchen table. Inside was a cassette tape and an old Polaroid of a child holding a blue music box. The child's face was Grace's. On the back: WITNESS ONE.

Miriam pressed the tape into her hand. “Your mother recorded this the day before she disappeared.”

Back at the mansion, Marco located a cassette player in a storage closet. The recording began with static, followed by a woman's tense, low voice.

“My name is Clara Vale. If you're hearing this, I failed to get us out.”

Grace clasped her hands so tightly her nails cut her palms.

“Daniel, the ledger isn't enough. They have people in Family Services, police, and the courts. The children are being reassigned identities. Salvatore says he'll help us, but I don't trust his partner. The one they call the Broker.”

The tape clicked. Another voice spoke in the distance, male and impatient: “Clara, he's here.”

Then Clara whispered, “If Grace remembers the blue room, tell her not to open the red door.”

The tape ended in a burst of noise.

Grace whispered, “What blue room?”

Vincent looked at Marco, who had suddenly gone pale.

“Tell her,” Vincent said.

Marco shook his head. “Boss, there's something about your father's old property you need to see first.”

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“Where?”

Marco swallowed. “Under this house.”