Chapter 5 - The Man Behind the Kitchen Door
Vincent crossed the room and tried the handle.
Locked.
Enzo hit the door with his shoulder.
Nothing.
Daniel looked toward the ventilation grille.
“Smoke?”
A faint chemical smell entered the room.
Norah covered her mouth.
Vincent grabbed a heavy desk chair and slammed it into the window.
The first strike cracked the glass.
The second shattered it.
Cold air rushed inside.
An alarm began screaming.
Security arrived within minutes.
Nobody was seriously hurt.
The chemical released into the office proved to be a powerful irritant rather than a lethal substance.
A warning.
Vincent hated warnings.
They meant somebody believed he could still be controlled.
Security footage showed a maintenance employee locking the office door.
He was found unconscious in a storage room.
Someone had stolen his uniform.
Again, the intruder knew the estate.
Again, the intruder disappeared.
Vincent doubled security.
Norah hated every second of it.
By afternoon, she felt trapped.
Vincent found her in the kitchen peeling carrots.
“You don't have to work.”
“I know.”
“Then why are you working?”
“Because vegetables don't lie.”
Vincent leaned against the counter.
“You're angry.”
“Excellent detective work.”
“At me?”
“At everyone.”
She cut another carrot.
“My mother hid secrets. Daniel disappeared. Somebody broke into my apartment. Somebody locked us in a room. And I somehow became responsible for whether you eat.”
“You're not responsible.”
“Then stop looking at me like I'm the answer.”
Vincent went quiet.
Norah put down the knife.
“You need a doctor.”
“I have several.”
“A therapist.”
Vincent's eyebrow rose.
“Careful.”
“There. That.”
“What?”
“You look at therapy like I suggested interpretive dance.”
Despite himself, Vincent laughed.
It was brief.
Real.
Norah stared.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
“You laughed.”
“I occasionally do.”
“I'd heard rumors.”
He shook his head.
Then his expression became serious.
“You're right.”
“About?”
“You aren't responsible for fixing me.”
Norah nodded.
“Good.”
“But your food helps.”
“That doesn't mean I do.”
“No.”
The answer was immediate.
Honest.
Strangely respectful.
Vincent continued.
“It means my body associates something about it with safety.”
“Your grandmother.”
“Probably.”
“Then learn from that.”
“How?”
“Simple food. Same ingredients. Same preparation. No surprises.”
Vincent considered it.
“You make it sound easy.”
“It isn't. But simple and easy aren't the same thing.”
That sentence stayed with him.
That evening Vincent ate rice, broth, and roasted carrots.
Norah cooked.
But Vincent stood beside her and watched every ingredient.
Then she made him prepare part of it himself.
He hated chopping onions.
She found that deeply satisfying.
“You're enjoying this.”
“A little.”
“I could fire you.”
“You already told me I'm not working.”
Vincent looked at her.
She smiled.
For the first time in months, he finished two small servings.
Enzo appeared almost emotional.
Vincent threatened to remove him from the kitchen if he continued staring.
Later Daniel joined Norah outside.
“I owe you an apology.”
“You owe me several.”
“I know.”
She looked at him.
“Why the gambling?”
Daniel rubbed his hands together.
“Because I was stupid before I became useful.”
He had accumulated debt honestly.
Then he discovered their mother's old papers.
He realized Calder connected to Vale.
His debt became access.
Calder trusted desperate men.
Daniel allowed himself to appear more desperate than he was.
He gathered information.
Then he discovered someone knew.
So he ran.
“You should have trusted me.”
“I wanted to protect you.”
“You didn't.”
Daniel looked down.
“I know.”
Norah's anger softened.
Not disappeared.
Softened.
“I’m glad you're alive.”
Daniel looked at her.
“Even after everything?”
“Unfortunately.”
He smiled.
Then a car entered the estate.
Enzo appeared.
“We found Vale.”
Vincent came downstairs.
“Where?”
“He turned himself in.”
Everyone stared.
Thomas Vale stepped from the vehicle between two security men.
He was sixty, gray-haired, impeccably dressed.
He looked tired rather than frightened.
Vincent met him in the study.
Norah and Daniel remained.
Vale noticed them.
“Eleanor's children.”
Norah's skin crawled.
“You knew my mother.”
“Very well.”
Vincent said, “Sit.”
Vale obeyed.
“Did you poison me?”
“No.”
“Did you pay Calder?”
“Yes.”
Daniel leaned forward.
Vale continued before anyone interrupted.
“I paid Calder because he was blackmailing me.”
Vincent laughed coldly.
“Convenient.”
“Check the complete records.”
“You stole Eleanor's ledger.”
“No.”
“Then who did?”
Vale looked at Norah.
“Your mother.”
Norah stared.
“She died seven years ago.”
“The ledger everyone is searching for isn't the original.”
Vale leaned back.
“Eleanor copied it.”
Daniel frowned.
“Where's the original?”
Vale looked at Vincent.
“Your grandmother had it.”
Vincent's expression changed.
“My grandmother died three years ago.”
“Yes.”
“Where did she put it?”
“I don't know.”
“Why should I believe you?”
“Because if I wanted you dead, you would never have survived the first attempt.”
Enzo stepped forward.
Vincent raised his hand.
Vale continued.
“The person behind this doesn't want Vincent dead.”
Norah whispered, “They want him dependent.”
Vale looked at her.
“Exactly.”
“On whom?”
Vale smiled sadly.
“That is the question your mother asked twenty years ago.”
Daniel placed the black notebook before him.
“Explain this.”
Vale saw the entries.
His face changed.
“That isn't mine.”
“It was in your safe.”
“I don't have a safe in that office.”
Vincent went still.
Vale leaned forward.
“Vincent, somebody wanted you to find that.”
The room became silent.
Norah remembered the hidden compartment.
The conveniently placed notebook.
The call.
The trap.
Evidence too perfect.
Vale whispered, “You're still looking outward.”
Vincent's jaw tightened.
“Then where should I look?”
Vale glanced toward the door.
“At the one person who has controlled every meal, every employee, every security rotation, and every message reaching you since you became sick.”
Vincent slowly turned.
Enzo stood near the door.
His face had gone white.
“No,” Vincent said.
Vale whispered one name.
“Enzo.”
May you like
Enzo took one step backward.
And reached inside his jacket.
